Rylan Clark-Neal - The Life of Rylan

Firstly Id like to emphasise that I have WRITTEN THIS BOOK MYSELF, so be assured youre getting the TOOTH, the WHOLE TOOTH and NOTHING BUT THE TOOTH! (Which was my original choice of title, but babe, we're so over that.)

This book documents my story, year by year, from my humble beginnings growing up in the East End of London, to becoming one of the nations most talked-about people overnight, to finally moving up the spectrum from guilty pleasure and getting nearer to national treasure. It will make you laugh, cry, and most importantly youll discover who I really am. If it doesnt do any of those things youre not legally entitled to a refund just clearing that up ;-).

I hope you enjoy reading this book as much as I have enjoyed writing it. Its been like therapy, and LORD was I in need. Enjoy!

Rylan Clark-Neal has quickly risen to be one of the UKs most successful and in demand presenters. Since finding fame on The X Factor, Rylan went on to win Celebrity Big Brother, present the sister show Big Brothers Bit on the Side, become a full-time member of the This Morning team, as well as reach the final of Celebrity MasterChef.

Rylan was raised by his mum and grandmother in East London before moving to a small town in Essex. He had big dreams from an early age and followed them with unflinching determination. This is his first book.

This book is dedicated to my mum, Linda Clark.

Shes my biggest fucking headache, but I dont know what Id do without her.

I WAS BORN on Tuesday 25 October 1988 in the Royal London Hospital to my mum, Linda Clark. A good woman friendly, caring, mouth like a gutter, every other word is fuck, but everyone loves her. My dad wasnt at the birth (well get back to him later) as he was crashed out drunk on the sofa at home, so my godfather Chrissy stepped in. This may have been a shock to some, but not to my mother.

I lived my early years on Stepney Green Road in East London with my mum, my Nanny Rose and my brother Jamie. My nan was like a second mum to me and has always lived with us as my mum suffers from severe Crohns disease. Shes always been there for my mum. Especially in later years when we didnt know how this would all turn around... shes one of a kind. She grew up during the war, singing in all the pubs, probably showing a bit of ankle, the cheeky mare. I could recite every word to Roll Out the Barrel, and to this day I still love a good ol Cockney knees-up. She taught me well. My brother Jamie is fourteen years older than me. Hes been like a second dad to me, or as you will learn more like a first dad. Hes your typical bloke. Carpenter, plasters walls and ceilings, owns a drill, that type.

We werent rolling in money as youve probably gathered by this point, seeing as Mum couldnt work due to her illness, but thats where my brother stepped up. He always made sure I had what I wanted, as did my mum and my nan with any money they had. We didnt have loads, but I never went without. I was so lucky to have them. We lived in a terraced council house where you knew all your neighbours. The kind of road where you could leave the front door open, knowing that if anyone dared come in it would be someone you knew. I was the bastard child, that little ginger kid that always wanted to know everything, talk to everyone and get involved in everyones business. I still am, to be fair...

Growing up we were a very close family. One of my fondest memories took place early one Friday evening. Each week, my mum, Nan, Auntie Sue and a couple of the golden girls (as they called themselves) would go down the bingo on a Friday night. Before each outing they would all come to our house for a Friday night buffet. You know, jacket potato, Batchelors Pasta n Sauce, boiled bacon and salad (because we were well healthy). It was your average Stepney Friday night. I was sat at the table, greedily eyeing up the food, when I heard my mum and Auntie Sue start to argue. Within seconds I could see the both of them pulling each others hair and trying to rip each others faces off. I was only young, around seven or so, and immediately started to cry. Our neighbour from next door was round our house and she took me outside to the adjoining park to play catch. I couldnt stop crying as in my head I thought that my mum and my aunt were about to kill each other and Id be left orphaned. The genuine fear of any seven-year-old.

About twenty minutes later I returned to my house to find that everything was absolutely fine and everyone was sat around the table tucking into their jacket potatoes and Pasta n Sauce. I didnt really understand why it was so calm. But that is just us. Have your row, have your fight, and get the fuck over it. They went to bingo that night and my mum won on the party bingo slots. Only forty quid, but think of the treats we could have for the next buffet. FYI, they fell out over a Quality Street. I can neither confirm nor deny whether the noisette triangle was to blame, but all was now well. Serious stuff.

I went to St Marys and St Michaels Primary School on Commercial Road in East London. I was a popular kid surprising as I was the ginger, pasty one, but nevertheless I had lots of friends. I was friends with mostly girls a few boys, but mostly girls. During playtime, the boys would be playing football, whilst the girls and me would be putting on shows next to the church. Our little dance shows would nine times out of ten revolve around the Spice Girls, and the fight for who would be Geri would arise without fail every break-time. I normally won the fight playing the ginger card, I got my way. It was around the age of nine or ten that I realised I was different to the other boys. I did the standard... Had a bit of a girlfriend, bought her a necklace from Argos, gave her a couple of Happy Meal toys I had doubles of, the usual, but deep down I knew I was a bit different. It wasnt until one evening at one of my mates birthday parties I really felt it. He was a bit of a cool kid, one of the boys. It was his birthday party and he had it at his house. He had friends from outside of school as he only joined ours in Year Four. Everyone was out playing football, and getting off their faces on Smarties and Asda cola. I was with them, kicking the ball around and getting on well with these boys Id never met before. After about an hour of playing, I saw my girl mates dancing out in the road. I knew I really wanted to go and join them but it felt nice being one of the boys. As time went on I could feel myself itching to go and dance with them and after about a half-hour I did. Next thing I remember is country dancing to B*Witcheds Jessie Hold On. Proper going for it, full out under the streetlights of the council estate.

One of the boys came over and said, What are you doing?

I looked at him (still full-on country dancing) and said, Its B*Witcheds new song! He looked at me like I was a donkey with three heads and a handbag, laughed and walked off. I knew he thought there was something wrong with me. But I didnt care, I genuinely didnt care. I carried on dancing with the girls until we all had to go home and to this day I still smash that routine... Yee-haaaaaaa!

I was a clever child at school, always top of the class with maths, English, etc., so when it came to applying for secondary school I wanted to go where all my friends would be going, which was St Michaels in Bermondsey, South London, but another option soon came up.