I was already wearing next to nothing, but here he was, asking me to get naked for him.
My body felt like it was failing me; I couldn’t breathe let alone manage an answer. I looked at my friend Olivia, whose jaw had dropped in disbelief.
For once, it was a hot weekend in London, perfect festival weather. We had AAA passes (the perks of working in a renowned rock bar frequented by bands and those in the industry), and were sipping our warm beers, chatting to some band members that we knew.
Then Olivia clocked him.
She grabs my arm, spilling over-priced beer all over me.
“OH MY GOD” she quietly yells in my ear (in that way only girls can do).
Sure, I could have been annoyed at losing half my pint of lager, but I knew that if Olivia – who knows so many bands she probably can’t even list them – was saying this, then it was big.
“Don’t look now, but check out who just walked into that cabin”. So, being the queen of cool that I am (cough, cough), I casually turn around.
“HOLY SHIT” I reply. “We *have* to go and talk to him”
Olivia tries to tell me that the No. 1 rule when you see someone famous is not to pester them.
But I wasn’t having any of it. “But it’s hiiiiiim, we have to!”
“We can’t, my dad (a musician) always told me it’s the one thing you never do.”
“Olivia” I protest, as I grab her arm and start marching her towards the cabin, “is this likely to ever happen again?!”
“Oh my god, are we really doing this? Are you sure?”
But there was no deterring me.
Suddenly there wasn’t enough room in my chest for my heart to beat and my pulse was beating in my ears, not to mention the
butterflies herd of miniature elephants in my tummy.
We approach the cabin and he walks out to find the two of us grinning at him like prize idiots, we manage to say hi and utter a few sentences of god only knows what. I honestly can’t remember what rubbish came out of our mouths, but all of a sudden he was telling me he really liked my tattoos and wanted to know if I’d get naked for him so that he could see them all.
It is a rare occasion when I am stunned into silence, but this was one of them.
Would you have stripped off for a legend?
I’m guessing that you fall into one of the following categories:
“No flipping way! What a pervert to even ask that!”
“Ummm, it depends, who is this guy? Is he hot?” (Answers coming up, I promise)
“Hell yeah! He’s a total legend!”
We all have our limits.
The same goes for your fertility. You may have strong feelings about how you conceive or you may be on the fence and need more information before you form an opinion.
Some of my clients feel certain that they don’t want to use any assistive reproduction techniques, such as IVF. Others are happy to use them but will only do certain procedures (such as IUI or “natural” IVF), or they place a limit on how many rounds of IVF / ICSI they will try. And others will keep going until someone or something stops them.
Regardless of where you are on your journey to conceive, you won’t find judgment here: I’m here to support you, and that means doing my bit to help make it a better experience, whether you’re getting ready to start trying to conceive, preparing / recovering from IVF, or looking for support during an IVF cycle.
It’s not my place to decide what the right or wrong way for you to have a family is. It is my place to help you to improve your chances and encourage optimum health through Acupuncture and Arvigo Mayan Massage. It is my place to offer you a safe haven, where you can take off your “everything-is-fine” mask and let go. It is my place to provide you with a space where you can really discuss your options.
Here I am.
And I’d love to hear from you if this has resonated with you.
If you’re full of hope and excitement.
If you’re fed up of keeping everything inside.
If you’re over everyone telling you not to worry.
If you simply need help.
Here I am. Just Holla.
Oh, and you wanted to know who he was, right?
Jimmy Fucking Page (of Led Zeppelin fame).