My body was never meant to fit someone else’s mould. Being born with VACTERL Association meant my life was never going to look “typical”  and over time, I have come to understand that this difference is not something to hide, but something that reflects strength, resilience, and survival.
I was born in 1957 with tracheo-oesophageal fistula, oesophageal atresia, anorectal malformation, and thumb duplication, conditions now recognised as part of VACTERL Association. Within hours of my birth, I underwent lifesaving surgery. 
Five days later, I needed further emergency surgery: bowel resection and a colostomy due to a volvulus causing intestinal obstruction. My stoma was reversed at the age of two, alongside the removal of my extra thumb.
Although my early surgeries were considered successful, my body continued to carry the effects throughout childhood and beyond. My early years were marked by ongoing bowel difficulties, abdominal pain, and daily struggles with continence. My repaired tracheo-oesophageal fistula left me with lifelong swallowing and breathing challenges.
Like many people born with rare congenital conditions, there was an assumption that I had been ‘fixed’, when in reality my body was still adapting, coping, and surviving every single day.
As I grew older, my body faced further complications, including gynaecological, urinary, and bowel problems. Rare congenital conditions do not simply end in childhood; they continue throughout life, often invisibly. Many adult survivors live with isolation, stigma, and unmet medical needs despite surviving complex early surgeries.
For many years, I felt different in ways that were difficult to explain. We live in a world that encourages comparison, often making people feel they should hide the parts of themselves that do not fit society’s expectations.
But I have learned that confidence begins when we start appreciating our own body, our own story, and our uniqueness.
My body is not something that failed to meet a standard. My body is proof of everything I have overcome. Every scar, surgery, challenge, adaptation, and victory tells a story of courage, endurance, and survival. The things that make us different are often the very things that make us unforgettable.
Connecting with others who share similar experiences has transformed my journey. What was once isolation has become understanding. What was once silence has become empowerment. Different is not wrong. It is human, powerful, and beautiful.