My story begins as my first marriage ended over twenty years ago. Ive always regarded myself as fairly ordinary girl, petite build, 5'5” short, mousy shoulder length hair with an outgoing bubbly personality. I loved to laugh, I made people smile, I talked too much and my biggest wish in life was to have children.
I lived in a pretty ordinary town on the outskirts of Lincolnshire, where everyone knew each other and your business was never just your own.
At the age of 23 I had stepped into marriage with my boyfriend Phil after we'd been dating for only 9 months. Our daughter Sarah was born 9 months later. We were both elated and very proud parents. Phil was a year younger than me. I'd describe him as attentive, hard working, dependable and quite handsome too.
Unfortunately, because we had married relatively young I felt like I had missed out on life. I'd never had that many nights out with friends, been to gigs or had girlie holidays abroad. This led me to believe that the grass was greener elsewhere. It was my fault that my first marriage ended and I'm ashamed to admit that I was stupid. The steps that I took next would see me in love, but miserable for the best part of twenty years.