THERE are moments in time that we can be transported back to in the blink of an eye.
It could be a song or maybe a scent, and – pow! We are back at that concert or deep in that relationship.
And yet there are experiences and feelings that felt so pivotal, so raw and so consuming at the time but we can’t even comprehend how we felt when we think back now.
We can’t understand the depth of the feeling or what it was we were so scared of.
I was trying to explain to my 13-year-old son about feelings like this.
For example, I felt like I would never recover from my first heartbreak.
It felt terminal and I was positive I would never love anyone ever again, let alone ever be happy.
I remember that I felt it, but I cannot place myself back in the moment.
I can’t pick the scab and bring back that time in my life, thankfully.
Four children and a marriage later, clearly I did get over it and I could love again and I am very happy.
But 16-year-old me would not have believed you.
During all this January “new year, best life, blah blah blah” stuff, I’ve thought about the times I was scared, or hurt by things, and if years on, they bother me still.
Recovery was awful, then I hit a hurdle
I’ve reflected on whether I ever give them a second thought and if I spent hours, if not days or weeks of my life, tied up in thoughts of things that passed with time.
In 2014 I had major lung surgery to try to resolve the fact my left lung kept rudely collapsing on me.
I was naturally worried about the operation.
It all came about quite quickly so I didn’t get much time to get my head around it, but that was not even the hard bit.
The recovery was awful but once I was better, I was hit with an unexpected hurdle.
I had two scars on my back and side.
The surgeons had to do a larger incision than planned and although the scars were on my back they were in the front of my mind.I felt stupid. I feel embarrassed to even talk about it now.
I have worked with our country’s wounded, with Help for Heroes, and have seen such resilience and bravery, yet I was worried to get my kit off in the bedroom or on the beach because of a mark on my back.
I looked for tops, bras and bikinis that would cover the scars.
But fast forward to now, I don’t give them a second thought.
One of them is often seen when I’m wearing dresses or sports bras and I never try to cover it.
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As I grew, other things became more important and the fact I can lift my children and run around replaced the need to cover up.
Ironic I know, for a former Page 3 model.
I guess we spend so much time worrying, hurting and stressing about temporary feelings and forget we will grow, evolve and no one thing is us or our story . . . just chapters.
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