A teen in any other age....
I think I would have fared better as a teenager today, despite the social media pressures, than I did in the 1970s. Back then, parent power ruled and you needed to be quite 'hard' to rebel. I wasn't yet made of rebellious material. I look back at what ought to have been a time of blossoming and realise how stunted I was in so many ways.
I gave the impression of being confident but it was my act of swimming rather than drowning. I had to be that way in our house. A strong mother who was living out her wishes through her daughter and a weak father who did anything for a quiet life. They kind of waited to see what each day had to bring instead of steering the day to suit them. That is of course easy to say from this distance and with the knowledge I have now, and maybe that was how everybody lived. But goodness me, the 60s were still ringing in their ears! And we were on Merseyside where it really was happening!
Oh how I would have loved the Internet then to get inspiration from others. To read about somebody else feeling the same way. There was a resentment on my mother's part that adolescence existed at all; she was always saying how lucky we were and how selfish we were in equal measure. That was her inability to move forward from a childhood which was tortured by her own mother leaving her father when she was 9. It is a tragic tale, but she quite simply never got over it and it was a present cloud raining small droplets into our lives.
I look at the photos of my adolescence and cringe. I go back to the frumpy teen whose mother also punished her for wanting not to have a 'short back and sides' any more from Mrs Jones, the barber. When I said I wanted to grow my hair, she said I could but she would not take me to the hairdressers as she could not afford it and so I could have my long hair and see how it felt. It, of course, looked a complete mess (no Purdy cut for me!) and when I got to 6th form, I had it cut shorter again, (giving my mum her 'I told you so ' moment, but at least had some control now, aided by a bit of pocket money. However, teenagers were just not given any empowerment back then, so you ended up in an adult world, trying to find your way and being put down at every chance. People didn't care to make you look your best; and unless you had a strong image, you were lost. That was me.
I would have so benefited from external influences and guidance; from seeing that other people felt the same way. I used to buy teen mags when I could afford it - in fact I used to skip lunch and spend my lunch money at the local shop and devour Jackie in the hope that the problem pages might have some enlightenment.
By 14 I had glasses and a very large, oval face. Interestingly as a personality I was quite sunny and funny. Oh I could make people laugh; it was during these years that I developed my wit and speed of response. And, thank the Lord, I had music. I played the piano and I could sing and I poured everything into that. Later in life I heard that many parents would come up to mine and ask if they were proud of their daughter and her singing; how I seemed to be able to communicate and how they felt something when I sang. My mother never wanted to appear big-headed, so she dismissed the praise and instead would tell me of the things I hadn't done - words not clear enough, standing badly; hair in my eyes etc
Oh gosh, writing this, it is clear how strong an influence she was at that time and how negative it all was. But this is my point. Seeing others who may be rebelling against all that parent power or knowing that I was not the only one going through this, would have been so helpful and enlightening. Knowing I was not alone.
By 16, many of the girls in my school were quite glamorous, with boyfriends, and going out to the occasional party. Definitely not allowed those. By now though, I was part of the YPF - the Young Peoples' Fellowship at a local church and I made new friends away from school - some of them BOYS! When you have been as sheltered as I was, boys become something else and I soon found out my place in that sphere. Turns out a personality is not quite enough for teenage boys and in the '70s, how you looked was 100% vital. So that was that. I don't write this to be maudlin (I made up for it later!), but those formative years were very damaging without a level of support and understanding and kindness. Not one male gave me the time of day, but I wasn't surprised.
Is it just the times that have changed? My daughter looks at the 60s and says how fabulous it all looks, particularly the clothes. Only a minority of girls had access to that, even those clever with a needle and thread. No. The rest of us were stick with the itchy wool and the nylon fabrics which could be made cheaper!
I reached 6th form and finally had some make up, but even that wasn't subtle or a great enhancer. Again, anything I tried had to be by myself as my best friend didn't wear make up so we didn't do the girlie things of trying to make each other up etc I was resigned to my lot and seemed to be stuck with this moon face and terrible mop of unruly hair.
At nearly 19 I looked very staid when I finally got to teacher training college, very suitable and unalarming for a prospective teacher and I remember some pretty bad clothing disasters there too. However, away from home, I could finally try things out and learn, the hard way, but nevertheless, it was the start.
I often wonder now how I would be different. Did this struggle make me into what I am today, or did it hinder me into being a late developer? One thing is for sure, I took charge of my life eventually and started to run it to suit me and what I wanted to achieve. There is no way one could have predicted how I would turn out and have this much fun; I was on track for a very ordinary life. It turned out it was not to be that ordinary after all. So, maybe all that dull time was to strengthen me for what lay ahead.
I feel sad and lonely when I look at these pictures and then a sense of relief that I got through it and didn't stay so stuck. Also a mild panic for what could have been. I can't even think how that happened, but it happened gradually and I gained confidence and made new friends from many different backgrounds, and my singing was indeed the ticket out that I needed. I went from somebody who never had an opinion, to feeling comfortable about expressing myself.
What would I say to my teenage self? To hang onto that nugget of belief inside. To keep being truthful and curious and passionate about life. To believe against all hope that something good was coming and that one day, Life WILL come and get you and then you will shake it up and run with it. Oh, and you will go back to your childhood blonde.
I gave the impression of being confident but it was my act of swimming rather than drowning. I had to be that way in our house. A strong mother who was living out her wishes through her daughter and a weak father who did anything for a quiet life. They kind of waited to see what each day had to bring instead of steering the day to suit them. That is of course easy to say from this distance and with the knowledge I have now, and maybe that was how everybody lived. But goodness me, the 60s were still ringing in their ears! And we were on Merseyside where it really was happening!
Oh how I would have loved the Internet then to get inspiration from others. To read about somebody else feeling the same way. There was a resentment on my mother's part that adolescence existed at all; she was always saying how lucky we were and how selfish we were in equal measure. That was her inability to move forward from a childhood which was tortured by her own mother leaving her father when she was 9. It is a tragic tale, but she quite simply never got over it and it was a present cloud raining small droplets into our lives.
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| 12 years old |
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| 14 years old |
By 14 I had glasses and a very large, oval face. Interestingly as a personality I was quite sunny and funny. Oh I could make people laugh; it was during these years that I developed my wit and speed of response. And, thank the Lord, I had music. I played the piano and I could sing and I poured everything into that. Later in life I heard that many parents would come up to mine and ask if they were proud of their daughter and her singing; how I seemed to be able to communicate and how they felt something when I sang. My mother never wanted to appear big-headed, so she dismissed the praise and instead would tell me of the things I hadn't done - words not clear enough, standing badly; hair in my eyes etc
Oh gosh, writing this, it is clear how strong an influence she was at that time and how negative it all was. But this is my point. Seeing others who may be rebelling against all that parent power or knowing that I was not the only one going through this, would have been so helpful and enlightening. Knowing I was not alone.
 |
| 16 years old |
Is it just the times that have changed? My daughter looks at the 60s and says how fabulous it all looks, particularly the clothes. Only a minority of girls had access to that, even those clever with a needle and thread. No. The rest of us were stick with the itchy wool and the nylon fabrics which could be made cheaper!
 |
| aged 17 |
At nearly 19 I looked very staid when I finally got to teacher training college, very suitable and unalarming for a prospective teacher and I remember some pretty bad clothing disasters there too. However, away from home, I could finally try things out and learn, the hard way, but nevertheless, it was the start.
 |
| 18 going on 19 |
I often wonder now how I would be different. Did this struggle make me into what I am today, or did it hinder me into being a late developer? One thing is for sure, I took charge of my life eventually and started to run it to suit me and what I wanted to achieve. There is no way one could have predicted how I would turn out and have this much fun; I was on track for a very ordinary life. It turned out it was not to be that ordinary after all. So, maybe all that dull time was to strengthen me for what lay ahead.
I feel sad and lonely when I look at these pictures and then a sense of relief that I got through it and didn't stay so stuck. Also a mild panic for what could have been. I can't even think how that happened, but it happened gradually and I gained confidence and made new friends from many different backgrounds, and my singing was indeed the ticket out that I needed. I went from somebody who never had an opinion, to feeling comfortable about expressing myself.
What would I say to my teenage self? To hang onto that nugget of belief inside. To keep being truthful and curious and passionate about life. To believe against all hope that something good was coming and that one day, Life WILL come and get you and then you will shake it up and run with it. Oh, and you will go back to your childhood blonde.
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