When I was a kid, I was obsessed with weapons. At the time, I did not see it as dangerous or unusual. My dad wanted me to join the army like him, and weapons were part of that world. We watched army films together, war films, shooter films. He bought me army toys and shooter games for my PlayStation like GTA and Call of Duty. It felt like bonding. It felt like approval. I wanted to be what he wanted me to be.
At the same time, school was not a safe place for me. I was bullied constantly. It chipped away at me day by day until I became angry and reactive. One day, a group of boys I thought were my friends cornered me. We played football together. I trusted them. They kicked and punched me until I was bleeding. I remember the shock more than the pain. The confusion of how quickly people can turn on you.
My parents had been divorced since I was one. I never really had a dad in the house. For a short time, my mum had a boyfriend who filled that space, but not in a good way. When I was eleven, he would shout at me and beat me. That violence stayed with me. By the time I was twelve and thirteen, I was acting out at home. I became violent towards my mum, kicking and punching her when she told me to go to bed. I hate admitting that now, but it is part of my story. Hurt does not disappear, it leaks out.
When I was fourteen, I went to Thailand with my dad for a month over Easter. The school gave permission for extra time off. While we were in Bangkok, when my dad was not around, I bought a taser. I knew it was wrong, but I also felt powerful holding it. I hid it from him and brought it back to England. I also brought back knives and air guns. At the time, airport security was poor and no one stopped me. I hid everything.
Back at high school, the bullying continued. One day, I snapped. I was tired of feeling scared and small. I took the taser into school. I showed it to my best friend. He wanted to try it and ended up getting caught with it. We were both suspended for about a month. At fourteen, we thought it was great. Time off school. Playing games online. We had no understanding of the seriousness of what had happened.
The police got involved. There were investigations. My dad was arrested on suspicion of weapons trafficking. That is when reality hit. I admitted it was me. I said I did not intend to hurt anyone. The charges against my dad were dropped, but I nearly got expelled from school. The police searched our house and confiscated all the weapons I had hidden.
What I did not understand then, but do now, is that tasers are classed as firearms in the UK. That weapon could have killed someone. Even though it was not a knife, the outcome could have been just as devastating. That day could have changed multiple lives forever.
Looking back, I do not see a bad kid. I see a scared one. A child surrounded by violence, trying to feel safe, trying to feel strong, trying to belong. But intentions do not erase consequences. Understanding that has shaped everything I do now.
This is why I speak out. This is why I care about prevention. Because I know how easily things can escalate, and how close I came to becoming another statistic rather than a warning.