Writing an autobiography is a statement declaring that you are unique . However , I don ’ t really think I ’ m that different to anyone else ; I just think I have a story that people will want to hear . Maybe it will inspire others to write their own story , or maybe it won ’ t , but if it helps one person make a positive change their life , then my story is worth sharing .
My earliest memory in life is sitting at a railway station in Frankston ( Victoria , Australia ). My mother was talking to her mother inside one of those old , red , wooden phone boxes , and I was holding on to my cat . Before I knew it , my mum told me to let go of the cat and leave it at the station because it couldn ’ t come with us . Never did see that cat again .
My next earliest memory is of my father screaming at my mother . The police came and I ended up outside our house sitting in a police van , while they used a megaphone to instruct my father ( who was inside with my sister ) to surrender himself . Unfortunately , this scenario was to be repeated many times in my life . We even made the news on TV once !
People think you don ’ t remember events from when you were young but I do . It ’ s hard to forget the violence , blood , screaming and police ; and sadly , it ’ s these events that can ingrain themselves into who we become , how we see things , and how we act – and all without us even realising .
As long as I can remember people have complained that I don ’ t smile much . I suppose if you don ’ t smile a lot in those early years it can become a habit that you carry into adulthood . But , if you see me without a smile it doesn ’ t mean anything other than the fact that a habit is at play ; just like smoking or eating . It ’ s not deliberate , it doesn ’ t mean I ’ m unhappy , it ’ s just a habit .
It ’ s sad that we remember the bad stuff and not the good . Was
there good ? If there was , I don ’ t remember it . I know I had a white poodle called Pepi when I lived with mum , and when I got home from school this dog would be so excited to see me . But one day the dog was gone – Pepi had gone to live with somebody else .
I don ’ t , however , believe the bad stuff will make you a bad person . I think a lot of people use their past as an excuse to avoid making changes ; from my experiences , many people are scared of the grass being greener . The thing is , we all have choices . The key is to avoid letting negativity define your love for others or your ability to be loved . Instead , be the opposite and show those who screwed you up that you ’ re better than them . You can have the last say !
I remember when we moved into my grandparent ’ s townhouse on the beach . The three of us all slept in one big bedroom with a double bed and a set of bunks . It also had a little verandah and from it , I could see all the way past the old tin gates and down to the beach . I remember the flowerbed of daisies that sat to one side of the path ; it took you right up to the sand . It was like our own private beach .
One day , when I was about four years old , an ambulance arrived and my grandmother ( mum ’ s mum ) walked down the stairs climbed into the ambulance and never came back . She died of kidney failure . I remember her yelling that she didn ’ t want to go and that she could get in the ambulance on her own . She couldn ’ t have been any older than 45 at the time . I ’ ve seen black and white photos of her – she reminds me of a movie star . She played the violin . I went on to learn a little myself , and have actually kept her violin .
When I went back to the townhouse years later , it didn ’ t seem that big at all . Little children have big eyes !
I remember being about four or five years old , walking by myself along Nepean Highway , wearing my gymnastics outfit . I was going to buy a bottle of milk at the local milk bar . I used to peel back the foil lid on the bottle and suck the cream off
2 FROM SURVIVING TO THRIVING : THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF MEL TEMPEST