Gliding a cheap pair of beard trimmers that I’d bought in lockdown across the back of my head, my brown glossy hair fell to the floor in seconds.
With my eldest Ty, 15, helping to do the parts that I couldn’t see, it was a bittersweet moment.
For years I had loved my thick locks and it was a big moment to simply shave them off – but I had to do this for me.
From the outside, my life was perfect.
I had three beautiful children, Ty, Cole, five, and Aria, four, had been with my boyfriend for 10 years, and we all lived in a secure family home.
Only, there was something that was
