T and I met two and a half years ago on holiday. I was a weary single mum, he was a broody newly single med student, and yes, crash bang, it was love at first sight. He is nine years my junior and easy on the eye, which could practically put me in the same league as Madonna had I a penchant for kabbalism.
For all the
lust love at first sight, I was incredibly scared to let anyone into my, and my son’s life, and kept alternating between being a hysterical woman with baggage, and having panic attacks. In other words, the very image of the totally positive and together woman you’d normally try to project in a new relationship.
Amazingly, T did not run away, loved my son, and for the very first time in my life, I knew I’d found someone who accepted me for who I was, who’d seen me at my worst, yet still wanted to build a life with me. This gave him the courage to share some of his own baggage and weaknesses and made us incredibly close.