LIFE Story: The early years.

My life story begins in Altringham, South Manchester. Manchester is the greatest city in the UK and, although I no longer reside there, it is still my home, my life.

With two brothers, one older, I felt ignored through my childhood. My older brother loved football and has supported the blues all his life. He had hopes of being a professional. His dream became my parent’s dream, and the pursuit of that dream took the parental time. They took him to games, both to watch and play. He had trials for all the professional teams around Manchester – except for United. He refused to play for them – he said he would rather cut off his leg than wear the red shirt.

My younger brother is the intelligent one and went to Altringham grammar school, where he thrived. After he finished education, university in Cambridge, he joined the Army. I always felt his joining the army was a shock but those last two years we shared fleeting times together, someone recruited him and changed him. He is still in the Army, risen through the ranks, he works in the capital.

As a child, when new people were introduced to the family, my parents would speak of my brothers’ achievements and introduce me with the simple this is our daughter. I lived without superlatives till I was a teenager.

My grandfather, in the Italian army during WW2, captured he served his time here in Britain. After the war he settled in Burnley and married the English woman he fell in love with. Where would my life story be without that English blood? My Grandfather paid me the most attention when I was a child and I adored him. It brings tears to my eyes when I think of him.

Following my older brother into the local comprehensive I did well at school. Boys liked me, my confidence grew as did my bitchiness. Cross me and you will see the bitch in me. The boys built up my belief that I was pretty, beautiful, and girlfriend material. Both my brothers struggled with finding girlfriends. Finally, I found my place in the family – I was the pretty one.

Success in school led me to university. I wanted to move away from my home, but not so far that I would feel isolated. I chose Sheffield for my further education.

Life Story: the young adult.

For two years I worked hard on my business administration course. I also partied hard. No debt, grants and a little help from my parents, life was easier for a student back then. In my final year I met my husband to be. A handsome man, with great prospects, and high ambition. He was certainly affable, great at conversations with an elevated level of attention. There was no reason not to marry him. Except one. Conchita did not like him. Conchita is my sex organ, and although he could satisfy her with skill, she never lusted.

I, Mia Presso, wanted a family. I, Mia Presso, desired comfort. Conchita had no say in my life story. I married my man.

My first vocation was working in an estate agent, selling the houses of Sheffield. Not a fantastic job, but one I excelled in. To be honest, I loved looking at how other people decorated their homes. The colour schemes, the choices of furniture, the flow of the homes, was complete fascination for me. For fourteen months I was selling houses, dating my husband to be, and enjoying life,

A grand church wedding with a reception under canvas on a glorious June Saturday, a honeymoon in the Canaries, which, I came back pregnant. Eight months later I left the estate agent.

Life Story: Adult, Family

I could have returned to work. But I wanted to be the one raising my children, not a pseudo mother that my boys might find prettier than me. My husband worked hard, he was a great provider, so I took that option to stay at home. It might not be a glorious decision for the sisterhood, but it was mine alone.

Never think I did not love my husband. I always did; I always will. He made me laugh when I was down. He provided comfort when the isolation tried to overcome me. He was, and is, lovely to me.

Conchita has her needs. She needs satisfaction. Conchita is obsessed with lust. If you are familiar with my blog posts, you will know I had affairs. Brief, often one night – one experience, but never more times than threatened my marriage.

Life Beyond.

Yes, I am a total cliché of the middle-class English woman. One of my friends once said it was my Latin blood. But haematology can wither, it was lust, pure animal lust. My life story is not about history, it is about the middle child in a middle class family struggling to be seen. I lust to be noticed, especially by those conchita wants. And I am pretty enough to attract most of them.

It was not my infidelity that caused the divorce. That was my husband who could not separate lust from love.

The new Mia is a divorced woman. A different family dynamic, a different life. Still comfortable, still dull, but gaping, horrific freedom that has me confused.

Why Write?

I started a journal of my scribblings when I was a child. They continued until I had my second child and life got too busy to write every day. The narrative always rolled around my head. After we moved, as a family, into Derbyshire, Ashley Lincoln was my postwomen for years. Over those years she and I chatted on the doorstep. Never much, never more than minutes here and there. I liked her, she was open and refreshingly honest. When she moved to another delivery, I missed her. The new guy was brusque and never had time for anybody.

Ashley entered my life a month or two later when we met in a pub. We chatted for longer that night and became friends. This friendship eventually led to chatting about writing. She added me to the roster of Wingerworth Writers’ Association, and I started my writing career.

Writing is a hard hobby to pursue. It would be easier to be a collector. You cannot buy words. Words need to put one after another in a coherent and interesting way. I hope I can do that.

Writing is an art that anyone can practice.

What I hope to bring is an insight into my life. I will confess all, not just the good bits. I am not a hero, nor am I a despicable one. I am just Mia. Judge me, hate me, love me, it is all the same to me.

I doubt I will ever draft a novel. I do not have the time and patience. I enjoy penning my short stories and blog posts. I hope to pen more in the future.

I am Mia Presso. I am a published author.

When I first started writing I was married. The name I write under is a version of my maiden name. Nigel used an app that doctored my photo to keep the essence of me but giving me a total deniability that the written confessionals were not me. Now that I am divorced, I do not see the point of changing any of that persona. The moral obligation to not hurt my husband and to keep our divorce amicable is paramount to me. Also, this character I write behind gives me freedom to be as open as I desire and yet will protect those about which I could write.

Life is about connection. On a planet of billions, there are only two – you and me.

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