Dear Warrington

Just a note to let you know that I’ve come out. All these years I’ve felt ashamed of you and I felt that you weren’t good enough. You were a neglected and ugly place when I first knew you in 1981 and from the moment I left I never wanted to admit that I knew you.

I had assumed that being close to Manchester and Liverpool you would be exotic, exciting and different from all that I had known in my 18 years and I would be emotionally and educationally nourished, I would form my first adult relationships, I would be an adult in an exciting new world!

Imagine my disappointment when I found that your pavements were not sprinkled with glitter and I felt ashamed of who I was and where I’d come from – in an effort to fit in I sold copies of the Socialist Worker on your high street.

Recently I have started talking about you and discovered that other people have a Warrington of their own. I needed you in order to access another part of myself. You shaped me; opened my eyes and helped me to understand who I am and how to grow up. I wonder if I’m engaging in my own truth and reconciliation event.

Warrington, I’m surprised how happy I feel about owning you now.
Thank you.


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