At 3, writing notes and leaving them everywhere to be rescued. At 15, left school. At 16, first baby. In those days, married to a sadist, you'd only finally escape horror, violence and madness 10 years later. Then in a women-only world, an activist invading the Sun offices. My poetry collections again destroyed at 32 and told my writing wasn't poetry. I was crushed. At 49, my first live performance. I admitted I had learning difficulties, wrote a play on domestic violence and devised a creative writing programme. My dreams are slowly becoming a reality.