After my crisis, everyone became more supportive and realised I was vulnerable. I learnt how to cope better by expressing myself when I felt too much pressure instead of pretending I was invincible. For me, it was the beginning of the realisation that I don’t have to sound like Aretha or anyone else. I just have to sound like me.
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As the second eldest, I was old enough to be aware of how difficult the situation was for my mum, and so I was the quietest. Sometimes, the person who is the best behaved receives the least attention and is the most overlooked. I tried to be good, not causing my mum any more grief, but in doing that I tended to make myself disappear. At home in England I was often subdued, but when we went to Jamaica I felt carefree and happy and able to express myself in a completely different way.
I snatched my power back and healed myself by confronting him, the anger making me courageous. That day I pulled something out of myself, a fearlessness that never left, that I could channel into my voice, my music and my songs. I found my strength.
It was those conversations at the Rape Crisis Centre that gave me a clearer understanding of the impact of trauma, and how it’s possible to not be treated as a powerless victim. I don’t want to be pitied. I’m very uncomfortable with that. I want options and opportunity, and I want to be listened to and respected. I don’t want anyone to do all that for me because then I’ll never learn how to do it for myself. Songwriting is very cathartic and provides a method for doing that. In those days, I couldn’t find the words in conversation to express how I felt, but strangely I could sing them.
As we got bigger, so my interest in fashion grew, and I started to see the art in fashion instead of just clothes that cover my back. Style and music are interlinked, feeding off each other. I was becoming aware of how I could use fashion as a tool to enhance my stage show and my personal self-worth. Clothes directly influence my mood – if I get it right my confidence is boosted and I feel high on life with the audience in the palm of my hand. Get it wrong and I feel like a scruy mouse that needs to crawl back into its tiny hole. I have to feel comfortable in my own skin, so what I wear has to be functional and suit my shape.
So, after all the positive things that I had come to believe about myself, like being open and political about my sexuality, I suddenly found myself having to be guarded about my life. I tried to get round it by convincing myself I was just being economical with the truth, but you get yourself into trouble pretending to be single when you’re not.