Growing up in Western Sydney, I couldn’t have been happier.
The Hawkesbury was – and still is – my own little world.
I attended a pre-school down my street, a public school around the corner, and a high school just a few blocks away.
I stood beside friends from pre-school at high school graduation. Everyone really did know everyone.
Weekends were spent swimming in the Hawkesbury River, eating ice cream in Windsor’s historic Thomspon Square, and riding our bikes through the local nature reserves.
I was proud of where I lived and I was truly adamant that one day, I would own my own home in the Hawkesbury region.
I was proud of – and content with – my Hawkesbury heritage.
Then I encountered Sydney. And snobbery...
Suddenly I realised, after 21 years of naive bliss, that I should be ashamed of where I came from.
After all, apparently living in Western Sydney made me uncultured, unintelligent and all-round undesirable.