When my abusive marriage ended on a very bad note after more than 35 years, I thought I would feel relieved. In some ways I did but mostly I felt lost.

The saddest part wasn't that I hadn't travelled. The saddest part was realising how much of my life had been shaped by fear.

People ask me what face cream I use. I tell them my beauty secret is a Scottish loch and a complete disregard for sensible temperatures. 

Think about every bite, every drop and every medicine you swallow. Looking after yourself is a responsibility and your future self deserves it.

My goal is to get back in my jeans for Christmas after I gained about 50 pounds, most of it on my belly, following an operation on my back.

I haven't bought the van yet and I haven't served a single burger. But I have something I didn't have on my fortieth birthday: hope.

I looked and felt empty. I realised had a choice: allow this separation to define the rest of my life, or start over at 55.