By the time my son had started school, life really was much more settled. Motherhood was easier. Being me, was easier.

I was writing poetry.

Falling in love with music again.

Had some wonderful friends around me.

It was also about this time when I really began to notice that my darling grandparents were indeed getting older. I had been so wrapped up in myself, that I hadn't really noticed them getting slower and ageing. Selfishly, I was so busy getting older myself, that I hadn't taken the time to notice that they were too.

I have accumulated a lot of regrets over the years, and taking my grandparents for granted, is something that I'll never forgive myself for. The two of them were always my stability in life. They became my son's too. It didn't matter how many wrongs I did, to them, I was still their right and special girl.

When I first moved into my house, I remember my gramp asking me whether there was anything I needed for my new kitchen. "I could do with some new knives, Gramp." Is what I had gratefully told him.

The next day, gramp pulled up outside my house, with his car full of just about everything needed in a kitchen—tea, coffee and sugar jars, a bread bin, utensils set, a kettle, a dish rack, saucepans, toaster, mugs, a rubbish bin, and of course, the requested knives set—it was all in yellow and all a wonderful surprise.

That was my gramp, a big and lovely softie.

Even now, I still have a few of those yellow knives that he bought me all those years ago, they're just too sentimental to ever get rid of.

I adored him, and he adored me.

To nan, I was like the daughter that my mum never was.

I had reached a point in my life, when I didn't just want to make things better for myself; I wanted to be better for nan and gramp.

After everything that I put myself through, put both of them through; being a better me was what we all deserved.

After doing a few short-lived jobs—cleaning, factory work and a little volunteering at the Citizens Advice Bureau—I eventually got a job as a Midday Supervisor at my son's school.

There, I felt settled.

There, I grew in confidence.

Over time, I began volunteering in the classrooms, which then gave me the opportunity to go back to college to train as a Learning Support Worker. While I was doing this, I was invited along to an interview at my sons school, for a paid LSW role. Nervously, I attended that interview, and surprisingly, I got the job.

My grandparents were SO PROUD.

So unbelievably happy for me.

That was what kicked off my career in education. After one year at college, I did another year, in order to gain my qualification in Advanced Learning Support.

For once in my life, I felt proud of myself. With pride, I was more than happy to tell people what I did for a living.

Yes, I was a single mum.

And yes, I was a working single mum.

I had encountered such judgement and arrogance on so many occasions while I was out with my son, that I actually became quite defensive about it. Some people just assumed that I was living off the state, watching daytime tv and feeding my son crisps seven days a week.

I was a young mum.

A young and single mum.

That incited prejudice.

If my son was having a tantrum, I was often watched to see how I would deal with that tantrum. One time, I was in a flower shop, and my son threw his dummy across the room from his pushchair. I retrieved it from one of the flower pots, but didn't give it back to my son because it was dirty.

"Dum dum!" My son had whined.

"No dum dum, it's dirty now." Came my unimpressed reply.

My son began crying, so I began to try and distract him from his wanting the dummy, by tickling his tummy, neck and cheeks. He was half laughing/half crying, so I then gently tapped his mouth with my flattened fingers, making his whining sound almost choral as it came out—trying anything to distract him from that darn dummy. It was then that I noticed this older lady giving me a filthy look.

"Well, I suppose that's to be expected from a mother like you." Then with yet another filthy look, she stalked from out of the shop.

I was so stunned, I just stood there for a little while.

Stunned and disappointed, that people thought it okay to talk to me that way.

I've thought a lot about incidents such as that happening to me. In hindsight, I think these judgemental people thought that I was much younger than I really was. I had a babyface, I was only 4ft 11. But even so, to be spoken to in such an unkind way, was never okay.

I had never cared about what people thought of me, but when I had my son, I did care. It began mattering what people thought. When I began my career in education, it gave me professional responsibility and professional status. That made me walk taller, walk taller with pride in my feet. All of my friends worked, so it felt good to say that I was working too. Okay, I wasn't earning loads. But I was earning, contributing to society...and that felt good.

Motherhood brought about many different challenges, but it also made me have to mature and make necessary changes. It made me stop wallowing about things that had gone wrong and that were out of my control. That is something that my mum has always done—lived in the past, forever being bitter about it, blaming others for her choices—I wasn't going to be like her.

I was going to own my mistakes.

Admit my wrong choices.

As a single mum, I was determined that my son wouldn't see me with a different man every week, not that there ever were. After Jamie, it would take me many years to ever want to be seriously involved with someone else. After him, I was very sure about the kind of man that I did want and absolutely surer about the kind of man that I didn't. I knew it would take someone special for me to let them into my life, and into the life of my son. Special men, they are a rare breed. Believe me, I know. There were quite a few times when I would have high hopes for some guys, then they would obliterate all of those high hopes. Put it this way, I had to kiss some frogs before I eventually found my prince.

A lot of guys, ran a mile once they knew that I was a mum.

For most, it was a very big no-no.

Sure, I dated.

Sure, I had some fun.

But I only did that while my son was with my nan and gramp.

It was my personal goal to not ever be like my mum, in any shape or form. Men, I could take or leave them. I had come so far without a man. But I'm a great believer in fate. On a night that I very nearly didn't go out on, due to having a killer headache, I eventually did decide to go to my friends leaving-work drinks thing.

That decision would change my life.

It would change my son's life.

It would change everything.

You remember that prince that I was telling you about?

Here is where I introduce you to him.