When author Elizabeth Day lost a baby and her marriage ended it was her friends who gave her the unconditional love she’d been seeking
As a child, I remember being pretty certain about a few things. I was sure I’d get married. I was convinced I’d write a book. Then I’d have children – two, of course, just like my parents. Preferably girls because they were better.
When you’re younger, you assume life will turn out a particular way because you haven’t lived it yet. It sometimes strikes me that getting older is a gradual erasure of the nonchalant confidence that comes with that naivety.