H was raised in a small town a few miles south of the border of Northern Ireland. “We had a mixture of Catholic and Protestant in our area, 60% - 40% ratio. Our area is an industrial area with many factories from shoe manufacturers, furniture and other wood working companies, food processing plants … The other options are farming and construction. My farther was a builder in his day. He had a family of seven children and my mother to take care of on one wage.” H struggled in school.
The teachers pushed those who wanted to move forward academically, and as for the rest of us, we lagged behind. They helped to prepare those for college and the rest for work. Personally I’ve had learning problems/difficulties all my life. It has never been easy, I really need to concentrate when I work, which has always been a constant battle. I have never looked for anyone to play the violin for me, I just had to work hard. It’s always got me when everyone around me would be finishing school work or homework, I would not even know how to start it. And always been compared to others at school and at home didn’t help either.
He opted to leave for good at the age of 16 to go to work to “contribute into the household.” He started in a shoe factory which led to other factory jobs that left him feeling hopeless.
I decided to pack it all in and come to the U.S. I hadn’t a clue what I was doing. Cut to me living in New York, sleeping on my cousin’s couch for about four months, with no papers or job, no real home, and no friends. Was a shitty feeling. I did what a lot of Irish did and started to pound the pavement, looking for bar work, waiting tables and building work. Nobody wanted or was willing to hire me. I finally got work, working in a restaurant on 7th Ave. very close to the Garden. I hated it so much, the owners were so strict, I just felt confused all the time, and the people made me feel so stupid. It wasn’t long before they fired me, which had never happened before.
I met someone who owned an Irish store in Queens, near my apartment and began working there. It let me meet a lot of people and make a lot of new friends. One was a trainer who opened up a gym on the Lower East Side. I started working with him on my two days off from the store. Three years of working seven days a week. I had only three days off … Christmas. I thought, what the fuck am I doing? But it taught me I had a drive, something I never knew I had.
I was heading to the gym one evening when some guy happened to make a comment on my rear. I told him to ‘go fuck yourself.’ He offered me a drink, and I married him. That was eight years ago tonight. Wasn’t an easy road, but we are happy.
With all that experience behind me I still didn’t know what I wanted to do. Both of us sat down one day to figure out what I really like to do, which came back to helping people. I started to look into massage therapy and enrolled in school. Then I hit a snag, my qualifications from school in Ireland had gotten lost. I traveled home, checked with both Dublin and London, nothing. I had to quit the program. I’ve had a few days while living here that really kicked me in the teeth, and the day that I had to leave school was one of them. I had even considered packing it all in, only for my husband. He secretly contacted another school to see if I could enroll for my High School Equivalency. I did so reluctantly, and here we are.
Six weeks ago, I opened up my own practice, all in the middle of doing my schoolwork. I am really loving what I do now, and when I get my qualifications as a massage therapist I will incorporate it into my practice. I finally figured out that I am here to help.
No comments:
Post a Comment