Growing up I felt like I straddled two different Irelands. I was born and raised in Rathfarnham in Dublin but spent all of my summers on my mum’s family’s farm in Roscommon.
My mum grew up speaking fluent Irish and her family had a great rambling way of storytelling. My dad, by contrast, is from Dublin and didn’t have a word of Irish. I always felt like you were either this kind of trad music, GAA Irish or this kind of Dublin Irish, which was rugby, Celtic Tiger and house prices. I’m trying to learn Irish again now.
I did not really enjoy primary school; being the fat kid with a moustache was not easy. I blossomed in secondary school as I found the school play and my people. After school I went to UCD for a year and absolutely hated it. Then I went to IT Tallaght. I made some amazing friends there and did four years of creative digital media.
From an early age I knew I wanted to perform, but as a fat kid you are afraid of anyone noticing you because they might insult you. So after college I thought, what’s a safer bet than going into comedy and performing? Radio.
‘I moved to London at 33. Unfortunately there’s nothing for me back home right now’
God Knows: ‘My brother says we’re not culchies. We are. If I throw a stone, I hit a cow’
James Kavanagh: Anxiety had me in a chokehold ... I wasn’t able to leave the house
‘Moving home to Ireland was the best thing I ever did, but I’ll always have this love of Denmark’
I worked for RTÉ for a bit after college, but I was not passionate about it. It was around the time of the crash and it was very tough.
My parents have always been very supportive but where I grew up everyone had proper jobs. My relatives are nurses, teachers and accountants and I didn’t know anyone who wanted to do something like comedy. I didn’t know how you could make a living out of it.
I cried when I first said I wanted to be a comedian. We are so embarrassed about having dreams in Ireland. It took me until I was 25 to do my first gig, and until I was 30 to actually commit to comedy because I was so nervous.
When I turned 30, in a very short space of time, my cousin, who I was very close to, passed from cystic fibrosis and I came out of a long-term relationship. I was dealing with things that other people my age were not dealing with. It puts you on a different path.
I thought, I’m gonna do that thing that I was too afraid to do in my 20s. Now I’m in my 30s I don’t care any more. During Covid I thought, I have nothing better to do so I may as well write that script I have been thinking about. The script won the BBC Galton & Simpson Bursary, which led me to getting an agent. This stamp of approval got me better gigs.
I moved to London when I was 33 because my mum reminded me that was when Jesus died. She said, if you are good at comedy you might want to get going. We had just come out of Covid and I thought, I’ve just survived a worldwide pandemic, I suppose I should just do that thing and move to London.
I felt foolish moving to a new place and starting over at 33. All my friends were back in Ireland buying houses and having babies and here I was spending all my savings, sleeping with people younger than me and living in a house share in Hackney.
Like with anything in life worth doing I would not have done it if I had known how difficult it was going to be. For the first six months I would weep openly in the street and then just get on with it. It’s been really tough, but London actually suited me more than I thought it would and I have made some great friends.
You can be ambitious in London, it’s totally cool to tell people you are a comedian and doing a show. In fact, you have to tell people you are good to convince them to work with you. While in Ireland you are almost like: Look, no, I’m not even funny, I wouldn’t hire me.
I have never felt more Irish than when I am in London. When you meet London-Irish people, that’s a specific type of Irish person; they almost have more Irish qualities than I would have, like they know more of the songs.
My dad lived in London for six months back in the 1980s and he really didn’t like it. He was called a Paddy and it wasn’t a welcoming place for him. I feel so grateful for the work that people have done before me, because when I arrived in London being Irish was such a benefit.
Unfortunately there’s nothing for me back home right now, which is a sad thing to say
First of all, apparently we just sound funny to people; I get on stage and can make people laugh by a simple turn of phrase. Being Irish is seen as kind of kitschy, I suppose. English people find us charming, even in London, if you have an Irish accent people warm to you quicker. For the most part I get on stage and make fun of English people and they have to take it because they colonised us for such a long time.
I have gigged in some places outside of London that I wouldn’t have felt particularly welcome as an Irish person. I probably won’t go back again but it’s never been so hostile that I have felt threatened.
I see myself living in London for the foreseeable future. Unfortunately there’s nothing for me back home right now, which is a sad thing to say. I’m also a single woman, I’d love to meet someone and I feel there’s more a chance of that happening in the UK than in Ireland.
Currently, I’m working on a new show for when I go on my UK and Ireland tour next year and I have two podcasts: Fad Camp and The Jump.
In conversation with Hosanna Boulter. This interview is part of a series with well-known people about their lives and relationship with Ireland.
