Putting on a pair of boots and heading out of the door, I was excited for who I was about to meet.
‘Mum!’ I cheered, as I noticed her bleach blonde hair with a fringe and the fact that she was wearing leopard print – her recognisable style.
Despite spending a lot of my childhood in and out of care, separated from my other siblings, I’d get to see my mum Julie, then 32, once every couple of weeks – an appointment that she never missed.
Living with my nanna Joanna at the time, on my dad’s side of the family, Mum would sometimes pop over to her house for a fleeting moment, too.
‘Do you think that we can swap shoes?’ Mum asked, pointing at my little boots.
Only being small herself, she was the same shoe size as my 11-yea-rold feet, so we swapped them.
And trotting back home that
