My Strong Woman Is - Pauline Medlicott

Defining why a woman is strong is not about what they have overcome in life or what they have been through. Nor’ is it about how successful they are, what car they drive and how much money they make. Not only for women, when anyone is proud of who they are, what they do and the people they have around them that is what makes them strong. For me, pride feeds strength.

My friend and member of the Under 27 and Above Club, Carl Fowler, is currently working on a project as part of his University degree. The project is called MyStrongWomanIs, you may have seen it on social media. Celebrating the works of Eleanor Rathbone this group are producing a fantastic little project and need our stories of who our strong woman is and why. Because of this, I’ve decided to share a few stories with you all about my strong woman. Pauline Medlicott.

My mum was born on the 12th March 19** (I’ll box clever and not mention years) in Bootle Maternity Home weighing five pounds eight ounces. (Tiny) She was raised by Maureen and Tony Lonorgan, or as I like to call them, Nan and Grandad, and grew up with my uncle and her younger brother, Terry, in Bootle, Liverpool. She went to St Joans Primary school and then moved on to St Augustans High School where my Grandad claims she was always in trouble (I think she might argue that one Grandad). She grew up to achieve what she set out to do and work in one of Liverpool’s top salons as a hairdresser and being the self-proclaimed number one David Bowie fan. BUT the day had to come for her to leave Bowie behind and she met my Dad, Frankie Medz’ and from then on the game changed forever.

You see, she had kids. If you asked my mum what she has achieved in life she’d say one thing. Not that she lived her dream of working in a top Liverpool salon, not that she won a fancy dress competition as a child where she covered herself in toilet rolls, bars of soap and tree branches and went as the slogan “Boots have branches everywhere”, she’d say that her biggest achievement is being a mother. And from experience, I can tell you she’s pretty good at it. She gave the three of us the best upbringing we could ask for, sacrificing a lot to send us to a certain school and taking us to places we could only dream of going. As well as doing all these nice things she’s not a novice when it comes to disciplining and if given cheek, she’s not afraid to put you in your place. I’ve got scars to prove that.

I was mid argument with her once on the train and decided to sit on the seats opposite the rest of the family in a true thirteen year old fashion. I put my headphones in and put my feet up on the seat, cutting myself off from the stresses of reality, thinking to myself “People just don’t get how hard it is being thirteen”. As we we’re travelling I was looking out of the window, taking in suburban Formby, listening to Tupac with my feet up on the seats. Whilst minding my own business, a man approached me smacked my legs and shouted something. I thought, ‘Has he just hit me?’ he stood there shouting and pointing at my feet so I guess he had an issue with my feet being on the seats. Before I knew it, he did it again. I pulled my headphones out in quite a panicked state, getting ready to play out the age old tale, Boy VS Man, who would prevail, when from over his shoulder all I heard was “HEY! THAT’S MY SON!” The child abusers face dropped. I thought to myself ‘Go ed’ Mum! You tell him!’ She had my back. I was her son and she had my back. I sat staring at this man feeling like I had a force-field around me, like I was untouchable. My feet were going to stay firmly on the seat in question and they would remain there for the rest of the journey. Thanks Mum… But, then she finished her sentence… “AND IF ANYONES GONNA TELL HIM WHAT TO DO AND GIVE HIM A SMACK, IT’LL BE ME!” My face dropped, so did the force-field. It’s safe to say I took my feet of the seat.

She pushes me. (Not literally obviously) She pushes me to better myself every day and every achievement I have gained in life I owe to her. As without her belief, her drive and her guidance I would not be where I am today. The same goes for my brother and sister. Her achievements in life will come from us because her passion in life has been us three. She allowed me to discover for myself what it was that I was passionate about and then she inspired me to push myself. In the arts, I probably won’t earn a lot of money and have material objects but I will be passionate about what I do and I will be proud of myself. And that, I will owe to my mum.

My mum is strong because she is filled with pride, for her family, her friends and herself. I don’t have to tell you what she’s been through in life and how she’s overcome everything. And how I am constantly amazed with how she deals with everything life throws at her. If you know her well enough you’ll know. So, sitting here writing this the day after her **rd birthday, I’d just like to say thank you.

So do me a favour and tell my mate Carl who your strong woman is.

Here’s to the my mum!

Love ya’ Pauls!

Alex.