My Childhood :)

Hey there, Sparklers ๐Ÿ™‚


I’ve been thinking a lot about my childhood lately and how much fun I had. And considering I don’t really have anything else to blog about, I thought I’d tell you all about it!

Growing up I was a very shy, introverted kid. I never really played with anyone outside of school, I was quite happy playing on my own in my room. Plus, all the kids on my street that were my age were boys, and just like every other little girl, I didn’t like boys and thought they were yucky. ๐Ÿ˜›

Once I started to get older, around the age of 9 or 10, I grew out of my shyness ever so slightly. I would stop and chat to the kids playing on my street and eventually we became friends. I started hanging out with them every day, but because they were all boys, all we ever did was play football, rugby, bulldog, kerby or we’d wrestle each other. I was pretty much a tomboy, I never wore pretty clothes because I knew that if I did, they’d only get ruined. I was an ‘old jeans and tee’ kind of girl. Even though I joined in when everyone played football, it doesn’t mean I was good at it. In fact, I SUCKED. My way of “kicking” the ball was to drop kick it, even though I wasn’t supposed to, and even then I didn’t use any part of my foot to kick it. I used my shin. MY SHIN. No wonder the guys teased me about it.

The thing I loved the most about my group of friends was that, even though I was a girl, I wasn’t treated differently. They didn’t go easy on me, and they’d actually wrestle and play fight with me without making a fuss over “not wanting to hurt me.” They knew that if I didn’t want to get hurt, or I wanted to keep my clothes clean, I wouldn’t be joining in whatever they were doing. Getting hurt or getting dirty didn’t bother me in the slightest. As far as I was concerned, if didn’t go home with a couple of bruises or scratches and the odd mud or grass stain on my clothes AT LEAST, it was a boring day.

As I said earlier, I sucked at football. So after a while, whenever they had a game, I would just sit and watch and shout the occasional comment. Sometimes the ball would go over a 7ft wall that was near the place we hung out most of the time, and into an overgrown garden that was full of nettles and brambles. Before the boys would finish arguing over who should go in and get it, I’d climb over, carefully find my way through the thorns, get the ball and climb back over. I didn’t see what the big deal was. And on the street where we all lived, there was an old lady who hated us. She was called Muriel, but we always called her Mint Imperial (don’t ask). She hated us because we were always running around and shouting, and sometimes when we played football or rugby, the ball would end up in her garden. Everybody was scared of her, because if she saw the ball go into her garden, she’d come out with a knife and pop it in front of us and then threaten to ring the police on us. It scared us to death until one day we realised that when she was in the window “phoning the police”, she was using a shoe, not a phone. It was all for show to try and scare us away, so we weren’t scared of her anymore.

After a while I’d complain whenever they wanted to play football, because I was bored of just sitting and watching. So we’d wrestle and have different kinds of races instead. By races I don’t just mean who can run the fastest, but who could do certain things for longer, who was stronger etc. The first bad injury I got was from when we were seeing who was the strongest out of our group. There were three large solid slabs of concrete stood up on a patch of grass which the council had left behind, so we decided to try and pick one of them up and carry it. They were probably about 2 ft long and 10 inches thick. I somehow managed to pick one up about 2 inches off the floor. It was really heavy and there was no way I could have carried it anywhere. But before I could place it safely back on the grass, my grip loosened and I dropped it. Right on to my foot. I fell onto my back and screamed out in pain, unable to move my leg because of the weight that was crushing my foot against the floor. I knew I’d broken something. So my friends worked together to get it off my foot before they ran to my house and got help. I went straight to the hospital and I’d broke three of the bones on the top of my foot, just beneath my toes. I had to wear a plaster cast and an ugly blue shoe for 6 weeks. But that didn’t stop me from attempting to carry on wrestling. I’d lean my crutches against a wall and start hopping around after my friends, trying to catch them and put them in a headlock, and then before they could knock me over, I’d kick them in the back of the knee with my cast (not too hard, I didn’t want to really hurt them or myself) and then sit on them to stop them getting up. It was so much fun ๐Ÿ˜€

At this point we weren’t using anything but our bodies to wrestle each other, but after a while we got more confident and trusted each other enough for things to get a bit more “savage” ๐Ÿ˜›

We’d climb up onto things and jump on the other person whilst they lay either on their back or their stomach to make the impact bigger. We’d use a trampoline as a ring sometimes (not the best idea). This didn’t last long because most of the time we’d fly off it and hurt ourselves, or land on the metal parts of the trampoline which hurt like a BITCH. So we stuck to the grass, but started using anything we could find to get the other person with. Planks of wood, garden chairs and tables, old swings and slides that weren’t used anymore, the list goes on. Over the years, in total, I’ve broken around 22 bones, dislocated 3 bones, damaged the majority of the tendons and ligaments in my body and have gotten quite a lot of stitches. But I wouldn’t change it for anything. I love being so fearless and daring, I love the adrenaline rush that comes with taking risks, and even though there were plenty of times I felt guilty for causing injuries to my friends, it never affected our relationship in a bad way, it never caused any fallouts. We all loved it and we all trusted each other.

I haven’t done any of that stuff in years and it kind of makes me sad. After that group of friends moved on with their lives, whether it was moving to a different neighbourhood or going to college, I never found another group of friends who loved wrestling and stuff as much as I do. It sucks, and I really miss it at times, but I definitely feel like I had the best childhood in the world.

Sometimes when I get bored I’ll try and do stupid little stunts like jumping off the roof of my house or off abandoned bridges onto old train tracks, but it isn’t the same haha. So, if any of you reading this love this kind of thing as much as I do, lets be friends! ๐Ÿ˜›

Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed this little insight into my past.

Lots of love,
Sarah Sparkles xxx



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