I grew up in Kentish Town in North London, now the house of bouji 20-somethings hooked on kombucha. Back then, within the early noughties, it was the fifteenth most deprived area of the country, with child poverty at 40.3%. I used to be one in all those kids. I grew up poor and in social housing. I used to be the kid and grandchild of Irish migrants who consequently of poverty, social exclusion and trauma lived with tricky relationships with food, booze and medicines. I adopted a few of their addictions and made poverty shame my very own. In consequence I grew up as, and still am, what doctors call ‘morbidly obese’.
As an adolescent I did all the pieces to not...
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