Alex Scott - How (Not) to Be Strong: The inspirational instant Sunday Times Bestseller

PENGUIN BOOKS

UK | USA | Canada | Ireland | Australia
New Zealand | India | South Africa

Penguin Books is part of the Penguin Random House group of companies whose addresses can be found at global.penguinrandomhouse.com.

First published by Century in 2022

Copyright Alex Scott, 2022

The moral right of the author has been asserted

Cover photo Shamil Tannar

ISBN: 978-1-529-15914-1

This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorized distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the authors and publishers rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

This book is dedicated to the dreamers. It might not always feel like it, but youve got this!

As difficult as it may be, we have to reach a point where we let go of the burdens of our experiences and share the beauty of the lessons they left behind.

Morgan Richard Olivier

Today, I am smiling. I think its the first day in months when Ive woken up and my brain is filled with colour, memories, moments, trains of thought. I can feel growth within myself once again. As Im writing this, my head is clear. I feel like Im back.

I dont know where the start, middle or end of this book is. What I do know is this: like most things in my life, how I go about writing it will probably not be in the way we are supposed to do things. But I will trust the process, as they say. People have been asking me to write a book since I retired from football in 2018. I had meetings and spoke to people about the idea. Did I need the money? Hell, yes I did. But deep in my gut, it didnt feel right. As tempting as the offers were, my instinct was stronger. I just had a sense one that has always seemed to be there for me during big life decisions that there was more to that chapter of my story yet. I didnt have a clue what that could be, but I listened. Turns out, my instinct was correct. There was a lot more to come. And now the time is right.

Ive been in a dark space for the last six months. What I have learned over the past couple of years is that Im very good at disguising when I feel low, when my head is fogged. Ive often wondered why this is, why I feel the need to always be strong. I feel very guilty about my sadness; from the outside looking in, what the heck do I have to be sad about? Ive managed to have a successful career in two fields I am passionate about. But whats worse than feeling guilty about being sad is putting on a happy face, so that others think youre OK, especially when you cant articulate the emotions youre feeling in the first place; pretending to yourself that this is a form of strength. It messes with your head.

I feel as though Ive saved up all my vulnerability and Im letting it all out in this book. This is the real me. Dont get me wrong, Im scared. But theres no going back now and Im also excited, at the thought of being free. Ive carried such a lot of fear, of being judged, or of hurting other people if I speak my truth. And I hope that by showing you the lessons Ive learned throughout my life about what strength is and isnt you might find some strength too.

Why is now the right time? Maybe because Im learning how to be a little more selfish and to ask myself what I need first and foremost. And because there is a whole lot of stuff I need to get off my chest. If I continue not to speak about certain experiences that have shaped me and my beliefs, I feel like Im being dishonest with you all and myself.

My public persona is one of strength. Ive managed to turn my pain into power. Some of you will have been on the journey with me all the way from the East End. Some will have joined during my football career. Or maybe you just know me as Alex from the telly. My life has been a full one, in so many different ways. And Ive reached a point where Im ready to look back on what has happened so far, to start making sense of it all and drawing those threads together. And Im also ready to redefine what it means to be strong, to let my walls down and open up. Get ready; its time to flip my fear.

Dont ever let fear hold you back is one of my favourite sayings. Well, lets do this, then.

The other day, my taxi driver started telling me stories, as people in that line of work like to do. He used to be a bus driver, he said, and at times would have to drive the 309 bus route. He hated the route, though, because it went through the Aberfeldy estate in Poplar, which has a reputation for being so rough that he didnt feel safe. What he didnt know was that Aberfeldy is my manor, and has been since my parents took me home from the hospital in October 1984. The driver had picked me up from Mayfair, a nice bit of town, and probably couldnt conceive of me ever having been near the area he was rubbishing. I didnt let on that I knew Aberfeldy, had spent my childhood there. I wanted to hear how others really viewed the little pocket of London where I grew up. Rough and not much life to it is how the taxi driver described it.

It might be rough around the edges but there is a real sense of community in Aberfeldy; everyone knows each other and Ive always felt safe. Around the estate, I was always Ronnie Scotts little sister when I was growing up, which I didnt mind at all. It wasnt the prettiest place, with tower blocks situated in the centre of a busy triangle of main roads. On one side of the estate is the A12, always gridlocked during the morning and evening commutes. At the opposite end is the A13, filled with cars trying to escape the traffic of the Blackwall Tunnel or reach the motorway. Days were soundtracked by honking cars or the sirens of emergency services rushing somewhere.

I lived in a tall tower block with my mum, dad, brother Ronnie and about three hundred other people. We were at number 43 on the first floor, our door guarded by a black iron gate for extra protection, so no one could kick it in. The only play areas were a tiny patch of grass at the back of the tower block, or the waste land out front, situated by the gas works. It was ugly but it was my bedroom view. There were local shops and a school, but that was about it. Being able to get on with life and make the most of what you had was the way things were. That lifestyle gave me survival skills I carry with me to this day.

Growing up, my bedroom wall was plastered with posters of musicians that I would cut out from American music magazines. Everyone from Aaliyah to 2Pac was on that wall, but there were no sporting role models. My parents werent massive sports fans, and we wouldnt sit down together and watch sport on the TV. I didnt have any dreams of being a footballer; I certainly didnt see any women footballers. The closest people I had to role models were the Williams sisters. From a young age, I think every Black child saw a reflection of themselves in the Williamses. They made mainstream news and transcended their sport from the very start because they didnt follow the same path as everyone else in their field; they did it their way and werent afraid to show the world how and why. I read stories about how the sisters would train in caged tennis courts, with violence going on around them. They set an example and never relied on poor me narratives; there was always pride in where they came from, and pride in the fact theyd trained so hard and made it. I think it allowed everyone in a similar situation to dream. I was proud of them. Every year Id tune in to Wimbledon I wasnt really a tennis fan at the time, but I wanted to watch