My daughter turns 8 in January.

Like millions of other parents I am dutifully arranging her party and making sure she feels special on her birthday whilst trying not to spend the GDP of a small country in the process. This year is different however, this year I’m excited about the day and I’m also sad because I cannot believe how quickly my beautiful little girl is growing up. This sounds really normal and you are probably wondering why I’d bother blogging about it except for me it’s not. It’s a brand new feeling. The last seven years have passed in a blur of “going through the motions” and plastering a big fake smile on my face as I carry in her cake.

This time eight years ago I was thirty eight weeks pregnant and had that slightly desperate and fed up look of a woman about to give birth. I’d sailed through pregnancy which is an appropriate phrase as I was the size of an ocean liner but I was excited and ready for the big event. When my labour finally started I was two weeks overdue and I thought I was ready but nothing could prepare me for what lay ahead.

I won’t labour on about my labour but the crux of it was that baby disengaged her head and I stopped dilating resulting in three days of labour, hospital oxytocin drips, having my waters broken, pethidine, epidural and an emergency c-section, during which I haemorrhaged and lost a litre of blood. The horror of the labour was compounded by the fact that two weeks later I went back to a stressful job. This left me scarred emotionally and physically and I spiralled into chronic post natal depression, I spent the best part of three years swapping between manically working and lying in my bed in foetal position, totally avoiding being alone with my baby in case I tried to kill her. By The time the depression finally went away it had left me crippled with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. I still have it although it is effectively managed with a very healthy supplemented diet, exercise , emotional work and regular Kinesiology.

Then only last year I realised I didn’t love my child. It wasn’t for lack of trying, I simply couldn’t because there was too much pain and panic in the place where the love was supposed to be. I couldn’t spend any time with her. The thought of it scared me so much I felt sick. An amazing clinical psychologist diagnosed me with post traumatic stress disorder and I learnt how to work through it.

I know I’m not a unique case. Millions of women suffer trauma after birth and it’s never really discussed or understood. In fact admitting you don’t love your child or dislike the job of parenting is a massive taboo. My experience profoundly changed my life. Before I was unhealthy and negative and hated my job but part of me died in that hospital and years later a new me finally broke through. I retrained, I got healthy and I worked through my stuff. My condition literally saved my life and I’m eternally grateful to it.

So in a few days time like all of you I will be celebrating Christmas and the best gift I will get is the warm glow from seeing my beautiful little girl opening her presents. And in January when I carry in that birthday cake the smile on my face will finally be real and a miniscule expression of how much I can now love her.

To end I bring you this Christmas song because for me, my real present is how I am now blessed to finally feel the love for my child.

And I'm ready to leave the house

I’ve always been a bit scabby if I’m honest. Puberty kicked in at 13 and so did a face full of spots and a delightfully embarrassing flaky scalp. Head and Shoulders didn’t shift it, Medicated Tar Shampoo that stank to high heaven didn’t shift it, throwing a huge tantrum before school definitely didn’t shift it and much to my dismay moving out of my terrible teens and into my 20s didn’t shift it either.

I’ve spent years brushing off my shoulders, avoiding black tops and spending a fortune on a rather glamorous hat collection. (it wasn’t all bad.) So it is with ridiculous joy that I hear my faithful hairdresser say to me today ‘your scalp is as clear as whistle’.

I love my hairdresser. Craig has been with me 7 good years. Its one of the longest and most committed relationships I’ve ever been in. I would never cheat on him. I even trek up to London to see him and that’s a biggy cause the London transport system and I do NOT get on.

I trust Craig with my hair. This is equivalent to saying I trust him with my life. A womans hair is her crown and I now wear mine with pride. Yes Craigs dedication and care is partly responsible but so are the changes I’ve made in my life.

• I have a protein shake every morning for breakfast. Protein is what our skin is essentially made of
• I drink flaxseed oil. Oils are rich is essential fatty acids to nourish the skin
• I regularly take vitamin E which is a fat soluble vitamin and antioxidant
• I eat loads of fibre that keeps my bowels happy (we all know it’s all about the log)
• And most of all I have dealt with my confidence issues

Anyone who has experienced a skin condition will tell you it makes you want to put a bag on your head. This instinctive response of wanting to hide away was at the core of my condition. I hated crowds and I hated talking in public. I was much happier tucked up at home rather than at a social gathering so no wonder my body created a condition that gave me the excuse to stay in and watch Xfactor.

But I hated the restriction of it. Deep down I wanted to enjoy social situations, to connect with others, to have opinions, to be confident. So I jumped right into Jewels Wingfields Deep Diving year long course to tackle my fear head on (excuse the pun). I learnt the other day that the word ‘confidence’ comes from the Spanish word ‘confianza‘ which simply means ‘with trust’. Confidence comes from trusting yourself. Once I discovered my inner confidence my skin condition began to heal.

I truly understand how tough it is when your skin is in crisis and no cream, potion or lotion brings relief. But like many conditions it’s not what’s going on outside that needs the remedy. Start by looking inside.

Would you be quiet back there! I'm trying to pose for Zoo magazine.

Laura and I were in a shoe shop (we are natural women with killer shoe collections) and a teenage girl entered the shop with her boyfriend. We smelt her before we saw her. She smelt of fake strawberries and other sweet childish stuff. She was actually orange and had obvious hair extensions, fake nails and more make-up than Madame Jojo’s and it got us thinking. Is this what sexy is now?

I asked husband for his opinion. Always an interesting place to start. He blames low grade mainstream porn mags like Nuts and Zoo magazine for telling guys that’s what’s sexy. But these guys are missing a trick too. It takes courage to stand out and say “that’s not what I want” when society deems it to beautiful and without that on your arm you are apparently a loser. We are being told what’s sexy but actually sex appeal is a transient often intagible force combined of many different qualities. I’ve done my research and it seems to be a combination of talent, personality, presence, style, poise, intelligence, humour and lifestyle choices not just body shape or facial attributes. Certainly no one mentioned fake tan and nails.

I’m 35 years old. I’m no stranger to hair dye (it was blue for most of 1998). Make up and I are best friends (organic of course) and I’ve even tried hair extensions (couldn’t stop pulling the darn things out) but I truly prefer myself without too much faffing around.
In honesty though it’s taken me a while to get here and a lot of working on my self esteem to stop trying to hide behind the image of perfection pushed at me from the TV and magazines.

There are layers to why I have concerns about this.

Firstly the psychological aspect. We have millions of young girls growing up where this type of barbie doll perfection with their vajazzling is becoming thought of as the only way to be considered pretty. This leads to huge self esteem issues not to mention deeper issues like bulimia, anorexia and even self harming.

Secondly, just as worryingly it’s the effect on our health all these beauty products are having. Phthalates are a plastic derivative found in many cosmetics and hair products they are linked to genital malformation in the foetus, cancer and infertility. The word parfum on a bottle is a euphemism for up to 200 chemicals that have been linked to cancers, neuro toxicity and brain damage. Maybe not the ” Lynx Effect” you were looking for eh lads?

Parabens are a type of preservative in everything, including processed food. They’ve been linked to learning difficulties, cancer and hormone disruptions including early onset puberty in young girls. Sodium lauryl sulphate is used to make products foam. This nasty chemical has been linked to cataracts, flaky skin and impaired hair growth.

Unfortunately you need to become a label checker to spot them because cost and branding is no yard stick. Some of the most prized and costly products are the worst and the word “natural” doesn’t mean anything in the world of marketing.

Look for clean products such as Neals Yard Organic Remedies, REN skincare, Dr Hauschka, and faith in nature. Good cosmetics to use are the mineral make up brands. You can even get non toxic cleaning products for your home.

What we really need to start doing though is celebrating the human body in all it’s myriad shapes, smells, and styles and learn to celebrate our uniqueness. We have to stop teaching our children that polluting themselves and hating themselves because they don’t look like the airbrushed celebrity in the magazine is normal. Actually skin smells delicious and hair feels lovely when it’s not slathered or crunchy with product.

I’m bringing real life sexy back. Whose in?