Having just turned 50 I am reflective of how far I have come in accepting my MRKH diagnosis. Despite this, I have historical trauma that still lingers and is just starting to find its voice all these years later.

I have been wanting to write this for several years now, but I have always chickened out of it for some reason. But, here goes!

The journey to self-love is similar to soft-sand running – the views can be beautiful and you know that you are toning the jiggly bits but it can be an exhausting process- muscles ache, skin hardens and it’s nothing like the movies portray.