Greetings from Brighton, on the south coast of the UK.
I’m here for a week, holed up in a hotel to finish writing a book, occasionally popping out to catch up with local friends.
Brighton is one of my favourite places in the UK and all through my teens and twenties I dreamed of one day living here, and would hop on a train from London at every opportunity.
Brighton was edgy and quirky and colourful and creative. It was home of the mods and Quadrophenia and Brighton rock and two piers.
I always felt as if I could be my true self in Brighton and pictures of the pavilion and the pier featured on many of my vision boards!
In 2016 I moved to town just a 15 minute train ride away, and in 2019 I finally achieved the dream and moved to Brighton itself.
I had a wonderful whirlwind of a few months - and even achieved a long held mod dream of riding on my then boyfriend’s scooter along the seafront on the August bank holiday. But then…disaster struck.
My relationship imploded and covid exploded and the world as we knew it changed forevermore.
Lockdown caused my new Brighton life to shrink down to my bedroom, over before it had really begun.
Six months into the pandemic I met a new guy and began a new relationship, and as we weren’t able to see any other people due to the ‘covid bubble’ regulations, it seemed to make sense to move closer to him.
And so I left Brighton after just 18 months for a town a few miles along the coast.
A chapter of my life that had begun full of excitement and hope fizzled out like a damp firework and subsequently, whenever I’ve thought of Brighton, I’ve always felt a gnawing disappointment that it never lived up to my dreams.
But staying here this week has been a bit of a lightbulb moment.
It’s made me see that although some chapters of our lives don’t end happily, not only is that OK, but sometimes it’s essential for the good of our over-arching life story.
The novel I’m currently writing is full of chapters that end unhappily for the protagonists - a device that all novelists use to propel their characters forwards, and force them to dig deep so that they might change things for the better.
Obstacles and how they’re overcome don’t just make for a good story, they make for interesting and inspirational characters.
As I walked around Brighton today I was bombarded with wonderful memories going back years and years.
And as I walked along the seafront and retraced the route my ex-boyfriend and I had taken on his scooter, laughing our heads off on that hot and sunny mod weekender, I also remembered how six months later I would be pounding that same seafront on my daily runs during the one hour a day we were allowed to leave our homes during lockdown.
There was something so beautifully bittersweet about being able to hold both memories up to the light and see how they had made for such a rich and interesting chapter. And even though my Brighton chapter ended sadly it wasn’t the end of my story.
It wasn’t the end of my story.
I’m writing this to you on the very last day of the year. The chapter that was 2023 is drawing to a close and I know that for many people it has been a challenging one.
But it’s not the end of the story. And if it has been a hard chapter for you, I’d advise you to take a leaf out of a novelist’s book (‘scuse the pun) and ask yourself how this unhappy chapter ending can be a catalyst for you, the protagonist, to go on to better and brighter things.
I’ve returned to Brighton this week ready to embark upon the next chapter of my adventures as a digital/writer nomad, and I can see so clearly how my previous chapter in Brighton had to end unhappily in order to trigger the chain of events that led to this.
I hope this gives you the faith to believe in your own happy new beginnings.
Wishing you a wonder-full 2024.
Siobhan
(TW: SA) I SO needed to read this. You probably can't tell from the name/profile pic/handle but I'm the one who moved to Brighton in May 2022 after a day trip two months earlier and before that reading Clementine & Rudy being told by my manager that the look on my face while reading it was that of someone really drawn in. I was enchanted and knew I had to move there.
Within a week of moving to Brighton while handing out CVs, somebody groped me as I was walking down the steps to Brighton Music Hall. I reported it anonymously, then after a week of stewing in rage and pain and anger I reported it by name to Brighton police, following it up after witnessing another friend being groped at a gig and feeling the effects of it happening to me all over again.
In the end, the police found no CCTV evidence to back up my case and so they dropped it, much to my chagrin and pure unadulterated rage and pain. I was feeling so let down by Brighton and the police force and was finding it hard being on my physical transition from mtf and I was having a hard time as well with the fact that I was scared to be in a crowded place and was being forced to move again only three months after being in Brighton.
Memories were coming up. And they needed attention. Over a year and a half later I'm planning on moving back to Reading- my hometown for most of my life - feeling a bit more powerful and resolving to reclaim myself again regardless of what anybody says about me
Beautiful. Thankyou for this inspiration.