When I consider my physical body, it’s not with a lot of love involved. I would rather be a little taller, a lot thinner, have clearer skin, smaller boobs, maybe a back that didn’t cause me so many difficulties and definitely a brain that didn’t have the kind of chemical imbalance that causes bipolar.

But at 50 years of age I have learned to accept my body, at least my appearance, for how it is. I may not be loving it, but I’ve certainly given up hating on it. And although neither my physical nor mental health are great, I can reflect back over those years and identify so many different life events I have survived and overcome, and I feel a degree of pride.

I haven’t always felt this way. Many times I thought life would defeat me. I feel like I rarely achieve the things I would like to, but I keep putting one foot in front of the other, I try to remember to breathe and to give myself credit when it’s due.

I can’t remember the exact point in time I discovered I enjoyed dressing up, especially in posh undies, and taking pictures. When I first met the man called Dave he was astounded that I already owned a large selection of lingerie, long before he started parading me around swinging clubs in it. Although swinging, and indeed the man called Dave turned out not to be for me, I believe the positive feedback I received for both my body and the outfits have contributed to the increased confidence I have now.

I became aware of Johanna Elizabeth’s photography around 4 years ago, and frankly I was in awe. The women she photographed were absolutely radiant. They oozed self confidence. The photographs were stunning. I decided that one day I would like that experience for myself.

This summer I started my own Johanna Elizabeth journey. My first challenge was getting myself to Havant, parking close enough and finding the studio. I got totally lost. Finally found a car park, but it was a bit of a walk and I got lost again. I called the studio to ask for directions and to apologise for being late. I was in the middle of a full blown panic attack when I finally turned up. And I just cried. I was met by Ange, who immediately put me at ease, and we discussed what I might like my shoot to consist of. I went away feeling a lot more positive and looking forward to creating my Pinterest board of possible poses.

After my first shoot had to be cancelled when I went down with tonsillitis, I was back in Havant at the end of October. After being thoroughly beautified by Evie, I stepped out feeling good. I’d opted for a basque, a corset and obviously, my pride and joy, my thigh boots. And I was a little nervous, but mostly excited. A history of swinging at least stood me in good stead for wandering around the studio and dressing room wearing little or no clothing. Something that would have mortified me once upon a time. I wasn’t actually prepared for how much of the shoot I’d spend naked, but hey. I did ache after. Although Jo was amazing at working to accommodate my disability, I was pushing myself hard to achieve the shots I wanted. And I have no regrets.

I collected my pictures this week. Just OMG! First I was presented the prints. I was utterly wowed. I was so incredibly happy to have Martin with me for the reveal session. I’d stated at the outset I wasn’t the sort of woman who’d want to see herself blown up and hanging on a wall. Until Martin decided that’s exactly what he’d like. My bum to be precise. It is a nice bum. And the presentation is exceptionally tasteful.

I was then shown my showreel, the professional slideshow of the photos set to music. That’s when the tears really flowed. I couldn’t believe how amazing I looked. As I have watched it since I have cried again, more than once, and I asked Martin, “Where is that beautiful, strong woman?” Apparently she’s been sat with him all the time. Who knew?

If you think a makeover/beauty/boudoir shoot wouldn’t be for you, then that’s what I thought too. For so many years. But I wouldn’t have missed this experience for anything. It has been truly empowering. For years I’ve had only one photo of myself that I loved. Now I have a box full. And I’m not suddenly totally in love with my body, but little by little I’m discovering that beautiful, strong woman.