WHEN the Good Friday Agreement was signed, my then boyfriend – now husband – and I were sitting in our house on the Falls Road watching people put their names on a piece of paper for peace.

I was 21 years old, the age my son is now. I was on the cusp of life.

Watching the news, the leaders signing the document, it felt somehow monumental, like a new day dawning.

I remember the palpable relief after years of – like everyone in this place – living in survival mode.

The years following meant everyone had to become accustomed to peace – as they had known nothing but war for their entire lives.

Up until that moment of breaking news, watching those historic signatures, neither my husband nor I saw our future in this place.

We had seen far too much growing up in Belfast and Derry. We experienced things kids shouldn’t have.

We were not afforded a normal childhood and as we were planning our lives together, gifting our children this type of upbringing was definitely not something we were interested in.

The........

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