As I wrote in my last blog, I find myself in the position of being homeless along with my family. In order to work through my emotions around this, I am writing this blog. It’s also proving useful to also bring forward my learnings and experiences of homelessness.
The first thing that has occurred to me, as I said in my previous blog, is it’s so interesting how people you thought you could rely on kick you when you’re down. And in some instances, come back and kick you again and again. You know, just to make sure you really are down. Sometimes, that comes in really surprising packages. For me now, it’s my mother.
I have been staying with my mother, along with my son, since we lost our house at the end of August 2025. My stepfather was unexpectedly taken very ill and was rushed into hospital and so I have been staying with her not only as somewhere to stay but also to help and support her.
My mother is an interesting character. I love her of course, but I often don’t like her very much if I am being brutally honest. Many, many times in my life she has blown up at me and told me, sometimes in excoriating detail, just how much of a disappointment I have been to her. She will (and has) denied this is true, that apparently my ‘fall from grace’ has been over the last 15 years or so which conveniently coincide with when I married and she lost a semblance of control over me in her eyes. But I remember at 14 years of age being shouted at ‘why can’t you be more like…’ insert then my childhood friend who was probably more the ideal daughter than me. Someone who was perfectly presented at all times, and rigidly controlled. Not someone who thought differently, didn’t always have her hair perfect, and who was a dreamy creative.
I will be the first to admit I am not a saint, but the mistakes I have made have been mine to deal with. I don’t need them constantly thrown back in my face – something she and my stepfather excel at. I can almost hear anyone reading this think ‘why didn’t she walk away?’ and, believe me, I have asked myself the same question. The simple answer is, since I was 26 years old until I met my husband 14 years later, they were my only family. Indeed, from the age of 16 I didn’t spend much time with them but instead all but moved in with my grandmother then went off to university. My brother died as a baby, all my grandparents have now passed, my natural father has not been in my life since I was 10, neither has his family, and I have very few other relatives. When my grandmother passed, I felt the need for family and they were my only choice for that.
This time, my mother threw me out of her house because I had the temerity to answer her back. She had been screaming at me all morning, telling me what a loser I am and that she was tired of hearing about my writing ‘flights of fancy’ and my plans to travel. They are, she told me, all dreams and will never become reality. She also told me I am a useless mother and human being. And threw me out. Luckily, my son can still stay there because at that point, I and the dog had nowhere to go. I had no car and no means of transport with a dodgy heart that still isn’t allowed to go outside of certain parameters in terms of beats. Oh, and the things I had moved into her house. Luckily, my husband sorted things out for me.
When I returned to my mother’s house to collect the remaining things and pick up my son to visit with my husband and I where we are staying, one would think nothing had happened. She was perfectly fine and reasonable with me. While I was perfectly civil, I am now done with her. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful she continues to take care of my son, but as soon as I possibly can I will be taking him out of there. My husband is of the view that he will then also have to break from her. My son is not immune to her blowouts though she isn’t as vicious with him.
Thanks to a very kind friend, we have somewhere to stay for now.
The other thing I have learned is that being homeless is very expensive. You can’t do a weekly Aldi shop because there is nowhere to store it so you have to shop daily. And if you have nowhere to cook anything, it’s not easy to eat particularly healthily either. Sleep can be elusive when you’re not sure where you will be resting your head the next night, the lack of which messes with your eating habits. And all of that combines with a situation where you don’t have much money. It’s a vicious circle, really. None of this is anything I have ever thought about before for obvious reasons. I’ve always had an innate sympathy for homeless people, have often donated to charities etc., but I’ve never thought their situation through. I’ve been too busy with my own life.
I’ve also never realised just how lucky I was before. We take having a roof over our heads for granted quite often. It might not be where we want to live, it might not be the type of property we want to live in, we might not like our neighbours, it might not be decorated as we would like…a whole list of things. But it’s a roof over your head and when you don’t have one, you miss it immediately.
Realising that you do not have an address is quite startling. I know I need to change my address details but, to what? I don’t have one. And when you need to be registered to a GP as I do currently, that is really concerning.
I am constantly looking for somewhere affordable to stay that takes dogs to give us some consistency, which is not an easy task. We are also looking for places to rent but, thanks to the previous government and this one lots of landlords have sold their properties because it’s now no longer financially viable. So, there are very few homes available none of which are in our price range and/or are pet friendly.
One of the things I have been considering also is my spiritual faith. My friend said the other day that she admired me for giving myself over to the universe to see what happens. Have I done that? I don’t know. I know I have lost everything, including my relationship with my mother. I have lost things materially and emotionally. Maybe the only way is up from here, it has to be really. I’m just not entirely sure what that looks like…and then I am reminded that perhaps I needed to lose the illusion of control. I have always needed to know what the next steps are, to define them for myself and anticipate the ‘how’. The one thing I know we are to surrender to Source or God or the universe – whatever word appeals. For me, it’s interchangeable depending on my mood. My need for control isn’t working. I am living proof that what we resist, persists because I have resisted this for so long and it all persisted.
So, I guess it’s time to try and give up the control and resistance and see where the universe takes me. Because there is a part of me, perhaps my gut instinct/intuition, that is whispering it will all be fine. More than fine. And to believe in that.
What will Day 3 bring? Who knows. I am going to go and collect my son so he can spend the day with us, and we will see what fresh insights today brings. Whatever they are, I will write about them for anyone who is interested in reading about it!
Louisa Simpson 