London calling

It's the city that calls to me.
No matter where I am.

The biggest "positive over negative" I'm yet to stamp.

It was the city that made me and I'm about to make it my own. Hows that for a turn around?

I went to London on Friday, I stepped off the train and felt it run through me, the feeling, the knowing, that it is there I am meant to be. Sarah and I have been playing with the idea of moving to the country, getting away from it all, commuting, baking, living, loving.... and then we got off that train.... we are London.

We walk through Euston hand in hand like we've done it every day of our lives, we glide through the underground barriers with the grazing of an oyster card and we are rolling through the caverns of the city to a better place. That's what London is to me.. now.

It's a city of demons, and memories and hurt. It's a city of dreams and hopes and futures.
My future.

I had the greatest opportunity of my life on Friday. For the first time since starting out on this adventure, I felt really really worth something.... like all the hard work, it's been worth it. Every day, a struggle, striving, it's all worth it.

Late rent days, credit card bills, council tax monsters, and a court case or two from hell. It is worth it. Because I know exactly who I am meant to be. Not disillusion. Not lost.
This Francesca Barker, is destined to be great. To make change. To build and bring hope.
Why?
Because it's entirely possible.
Anything is possible.

One of the greatest inspirations anyone could have in business, as a woman, is Michelle Mone, magical, beautiful, and ferociously brilliant and if you were ever in doubt of such thing, then you've obviously not been paying enough attention to the Scottish Referendum!
We all have people in our lives, through TV screens, magazines, business and more, that we want to emulate, that we want to become.
Well she is exactly that.
One of the first few people I followed on Twitter, fascinated by the drive and determination to be distinctive and dominant, successful, independent.
Who wouldn't want all of those things?

There are women in business, who have inspired me to make this business something formidable, something known, something powerful, it is going to be the vehicle for change I dreamt it would be and I going to make it happen.
So thank you to people like Hilary Devey, Michelle Mone and Lorraine Pascale, to name a few. Through the power of social media, I find it hard not to feel invigorated and determined to do more!

Struggling with mental health issues and battling drug addiction often leaves you feeling ironically powerless. You let your demons run your life and find excuses a-plenty as to why you can't take control.
So what do you do?
In my case? You waste a decade of your life lost in a world of over compensating, over eager people pleasing, over selling bullshit, when all you needed to do was take control.
I did.
I took it. I held it. I ran with it and I won't ever stop.

London. Friday. Mentoring session with Michelle Mone and an award for Best Female Entrepreneur.

Bonkers.

I have pieces of paper, ten to the dozen, that say who I am, what I've done, the good and the bad.
I now have a piece of glass in my living room and it's my pride and joy.
I've never felt such pride. Such vision. Such inspiration.
The Barker Baker has only just begun, that's a scary concept considering how much has come to pass for this little business and me in just a year!

Next week, I'm going to a prison. To talk bread.
I said to Sarah whilst walking home from our grocery shop this morning, I'm the luckiest baker in the world.
My workshops arn't just about baking. It's about showing people what can happen with a little bit of faith and a lot of hard work.
A future.

So you can bake a loaf, you can bake ten, you can start a business, you can feed your family. Semantics.
You can spend an hour of your day, free, creating, learning, thinking, sharing.
You can plan your life and see new choices. Choices you didn't even know were there.

Jane Mason and her amazing Virtuous Bread changed my life.
I baked one day. I baked for two. I baked for three.
I had no job. My life was a mess. I had no self worth, no confidence, no hope.
I baked again.
I baked for gifts.
I baked for friends, I baked for thank you's, I'm sorry's, I love you's.
Bread. It made me.

A year ago, a follower on Twitter, said this :-

On Friday this happened :-

Michelle Mone hugged me on Friday and said I was an inspiration. That she had read all about me and was inspired.
The woman who inspired me, inspired by my life?

I'm going to hold that in my heart.

Positives over negatives.

Come on London, lets have you!

Friday 13th October 2006, the day that changed my life

I found my student card from when I was at University today.
I spent the first 10 minutes romanticizing the time I had there and then the slow dawning of the realization of when that photo was taken.
I started my second term at Uni, happy, free from family drama, ready to take on the world. That photo was taken at the end of September, with me, hungover from a mad night, sat in the library rather unimpressed at having to have a photo etched onto a piece of plastic when not looking particularly attractive... I'm looking at it now, and jesus, time has changed me.
Second year at University began, with relief, escapism from a family situation which was splitting my mind in two. Playing the part I thought I was supposed to at home, and counting down the days to when I could take the mask off - all very dramatic for a 19 year old girl, but life was hard.
Easy in so many ways, so fortunate, so lucky, but so trapped.

I remember unpacking the day I got back to campus, I was with my dad for the last 5 minutes while my mum sat in the car downstairs. I had a great room. Top floor, sea view. Massive. Freedom.
Only downside - it was pink?!
I have the same problem with my dad, whenever I see him, even if its recently. I dread it. I faff. I dress up. I fake it. I smile. I lie. (not these days!)
I worry.
And still to this day, he never fails to rip me with the opening line. Last time it was "Lost weight have we?" sarcasm loaded like a bullet.
My favourite was last year, when he came to see me in hospital, he glanced at my food menu, I had ordered chocolate sponge and custard for the pudding, he laughed and crossed it out.
To say I have a problem with my weight would be an understatement, but looking at this photo on my old student card, I can see I've taken the "I don't care" diet a little too far.

That photo was taken at one of the happiest times of my life. I had aced my first year of Uni, was steam rolling into second year with not a care in the world. On Friday 13th October, everything changed.
A night that has destroyed me.
A night that I can't get out of my head and it's nearly 10 years ago.

After that night, I never said a word. I found out I was pregnant, I felt sick, disgusted, angry.
Still, I didn't say I word. I booked my abortion and fell apart.

I didn't leave that pink room at University for weeks, waiting for the date, first week of December. Bronglais Hospital. Counting down.
I hid in the daytimes and went out and drank myself into oblivion masquerading as student living, night after night, burning money, so much money. Washing it away.
I felt guilty, selfish.
The day came, I went to the hospital, it was hell.
Tablets. I fainted. I bled. I cried.
It went wrong. I had to have an operation. Some things don't change!!
I was so scared. I had hidden it all away and now I had explaining to do.

I couldn't be the perfect daughter over Christmas break, I was so ill. I had to tell them.
So I lied. And I still don't know if it was for my sake or for theirs.
If I told them I was raped by a big black man 1 month into Uni, would they care? Would they help?
Would they say it was my fault? Would they discard my attempts at coming out as a casualty of that night?
So I lied.
Fit, fantastic Fran, had a one night stand and made a mistake.
My dads response? He was an emotional wreck. Said I should have had the baby, he could have looked after it while I finished Uni and we could have gone from there. Desperate for the straight life much?
My mums response? I was a selfish cow. How could I have had an abortion when there were women like her who couldn't have children?
It cut me like a knife.
I hadn't thought of it that way.
Was I wrong?
No. It was toxic. A reminder. And it had to go.

I never pulled myself together after that. The lies split me in two.
Such a huge secret to carry. Only to have it aired in a court room as mitigation, a sob story.
It didn't feel real hearing it out loud, reading the doctors notes, the personal tutors emails, the head of department report.
One night and my life, my future was gone.

I pulled myself back together and plodded on into third year, left uni, left it all behind and made a hundred mistakes thereafter.

I'm looking at this photo. I am that girl again. With a purer heart (and a wider waistline)
But its beautiful closure.
I was determined to be something then.
To be proud of.
To be heard of.
To be respected.
To be loved.

I strive for those things every day.

I'm a fucked up 27 year old with a head full of vision and a heart full of truth.
It's only taken me a decade to find it.

I'm so lucky to have a second chance.

Secrets and lies, destroy us.

Set them free