EDITOR’S WARNING
Putting the finishing touches to my make-up, I smiled in my dressingroom mirror.
‘Let’s do it,’ I grinned.
Striding out on stage at a bar, the crowd cheered.
It was 2015, and I loved my job as a performer, feeling gorgeous as I belted rock songs into the mic.
But off stage, I didn’t always feel so glam.
A few days later, I went to my school reunion with my husband Redd, then 32.
Walking across the school yard, we got chatting to other guests.
‘Is this your son?’ a lady asked, curiously.
Her words stung.
Yes, Redd was 10 years my junior, but surely I didn’t look old enough to be his mum?
And it wasn’t
