With her house repossessed and deep in depression, Caroline Strawson, 50, was determined to transform her life
WORDS: ELAINE HAYWARD. MAIN PHOTO: BRY PENNEY
Pulling up outside a house with a car full of boxes, I turned to my children, William, then eight, and Maddie, five. ‘Are you excited to see our new home?’ I asked them. ‘Yes!’ they chimed, nodding with enthusiasm.
To William and Maddie, moving home felt like a new adventure, but they were too young to understand the desperate situation we were really in, and as they jumped out of the car, I painted on a smile to hide my worries.
It was April 2013 and our family home had just been repossessed. As a struggling, single mum, I’d failed to keep up the mortgage repayments and I felt so ashamed because this wasn’t how I’d expected life to turn out.
FINANCIAL STRUGGLE
My nightmare had begun four years earlier in 2009, after my mum Linda died suddenly, aged 67, from an aortic aneurysm. Then not long afterwards, my 12-year marriage to the children’s father fell apart. In 2011, we filed for divorce and my ex moved two-and-a-half hours away while the children and I stayed living in the house in Northampton.
He’d always been the main breadwinner while I’d been a stay-at-home parent. I was a qualified podiatrist, though, so over the next few months I worked one day a week while also juggling caring for the kids. The money was good but I could still barely find enough each month to pay for the mortgage and bills – I was always short and struggling with debt. I knew I could ask my dad for help, but I didn’t want to burden him.
‘I need new shoes, Mum,’ William, then seven, said one night after school, showing me all of the scuffs on the toe. ‘I’ll get you some tomorrow,’ I smiled, but inside I just felt dread because I knew full well I couldn’t afford new shoes, but I was desperate to keep up the pretence that everything was normal. Somehow, I scraped the money together, selling old clothes on eBay and delaying bill payments for a month.
Each morning I’d go into my bathroom while the kids were downstairs having breakfast and desperately try not to have a panic attack. I’d clutch the sink and take deep breaths but I just couldn’t shake the overwhelming anxiety.
After three months of missed mortgage payments, the house got repossessed and it dawned on me just how bad things had got. ‘Me and the kids are homeless,’ I sobbed on the phone to Dad in utter despe
