Trisha Goddard Reveals Her Family Secret

As I sit down to write the story of my life, I am terrified.Terrified about what going over my past, and letting the world in on it, might unleash - what Pandora's box I might open.But, hey, around 15,000 guests on my television show have bared their hearts and souls, so it would be hypocritical for me to make a bolt for it now.I am damaged goods, and it's been painful raking over buried memories. I've had to go deeper into myself than I've ever been before. But I was inspired by the thought of all those people I've met who, like me, believe that shining light into a dark corner can scare that monster called "Misfortune" away.

It's a bit of a cliche, but I always felt different. Different from my three sisters, who were much lighter skinned than me and had curls where my hair was frizzy. Different from my classmates, who were white. Different from those who seemed happier with their families and didn't share my burning desire to escape, find adventure and succeed.When I say different, I don't mean better. Just different.My mum had come to Britain from Dominica on a boat packed with hundreds of other West Indians eager to start a new life. She'd been told that England was a home from home, which is why she only brought a cardigan with her. The climate came as a bit of a shock.

Dad was white, a Norfolk boy born and bred. He had done a bit of travelling with the Royal Army Medical Corps and was obviously an adventurous type and maybe a bit of a flirt - just the sort of bloke Mum would always warn me to steer clear of, in fact!They met while training to be nurses in Hackney, London. Mum was 29 and Dad 24 when the problem of me arose. As a result, they took a trip to the register office and got married.