I’m a hugger, and I’m not sorry.

Recently I did something terrible to my friend. Did I lie to her? Did I steal from her? Did I hurt her? No, I simply hugged her. I was so excited to see her after more than 20 years I simply couldn’t keep my hands off her. I felt as though I’d traumatised her for the rest of the day. Could anyone have imagined typing such a sentence 6 months ago?

I met Tara who is 10 years younger than me, about 27 years ago whilst out walking my dogs. We shared a love of horses and dogs and soon we became great friends, spending each Saturday with our horses, hacking and hiking around Worcestershire. But then her horse moved stables, I moved away from the area and we lost touch.

Seeing her after so long was incredible. She is exactly the same as I remember, and now she has gorgeous 12 year old twins and a wonderful husband who I hadn’t met until yesterday. I managed not to grab her for another squeeze before she left, and sent her several apologies via text for not being able to keep my hands off her.

I know I look very different from the last time I saw her. My hair is no longer blonde, it shimmers and sparkles with all shades of silver. I’m not in my 20’s I’m in my 50’s with an ever changing face which catches me by surprise some days with its new elasticity and fluffiness.

I don’t recognise myself sometimes and I know many women feel the same. I took this photo on Thursday and wasn’t going to post it as thought it didn’t look like me. But of course it does – it is me! Just a sparkly new older version which is always changing, day by day.

Wouldn’t life be boring if everything stayed the same?

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