In mid 2014, my life changed forever when I found out I was infertile. An extremely rare genetic hiccup meant my eggs did not respond to the hormones they needed to grow and mature for conception to occur. In the years since, I have battled depression looking for reasons to explain “why me”.
In 2016, I made the drastic decision to move three hours away from my home and husband to find out who I was if I couldn’t be a mum. After six months, I decided not to go back and embraced what was to be an exciting, adventurous and downright dirty time in my life fulfilling sexual desires that I had only previously fantasised about.
It’s been amazing and soul-destroying, titillating and gut-wrenching as I have come to terms with who I am and how different it is to who I thought I wanted to be. Friends have described me as brave. I’m not sure I quite believe that yet, but I do know that regardless of what reckless decisions I make, how deep I crash when my mood deadens or how exhilarated I feel after a night of pure, unadulterated pleasure, I am, and will remain, fierce.
While this is my personal account, I have changed details and names to protect the identifies of those who had a part in my story.