Married for 10 years and sat with their grown daughters, Mary Kay Letourneau and Vili Fualaau smiled as they recounted their ‘extraordinary’ relationship, in a 2015 widely-watched exclusive with American TV titan Barbara Walters. 

However, the couple’s relationship was extraordinary for all the wrong reasons.

They had become close when Vili was just 12, and Mary Kay, then in her thirties, was his teacher. Within months they had embarked on a sexual relationship.

As news of the Washington state-based sexual abuse scandal shocked the globe, people were left reeling at the thought that a 34-year-old, middle-class, married mother-of-four was capable of committing such a horrific crime.

Yet despite Mary Kay going to jail for second-degree child rape – and giving birth behind bars – the couple steadfastly refused to give up on their relationship.

Now the family – and their story – are back in the news again, after the couple’s youngest daughter, Georgia, has posted on Instagram about expecting a baby boy in January.

Vili, 40, who had a third daughter, Sophia, in 2022, is set to become a grandparent for the first time – but without Mary Kay by his side. 

Rewind to September 1996. A 12-year-old Vili entered his sixth-grade classroom at Shorewood Elementary School in Washington, settling in for a year of learning. He recongised Mary Kay, as she had also taught him in second grade, when he was just eight. 

‘There was a respect, an insight, a spirit, and understanding between us that grew over time,’ she told The Seattle Times in July 1997, as she recalled that first time teaching him. ‘It was the kind of feeling you have with a brother or sister – a feeling that they’re part of your life forever.’

As she once again tutored Vili four years later, Mary Kay clocked that the boy was a gifted artist, and began spending time with him outside of the classroom to develop his skills. Vili even visited her home, becoming friendly with Mary Kay’s husband Steve and four children. He became especially close with her eldest son, Steven Jr., who was only a year younger than him. 

When the school year ended, the teacher and student had gone to dinner when the pair first had sex, even though in a book the pair authored, Mary Kay wrote she had ‘promised’ herself ‘it’ wouldn’t happen before her divorce with then-husband Steve. 

‘The incident was late at night, and it didn’t stop with a kiss,’ Mary Kay told Walters in the 2015 interview. ‘And I thought that it would, and it didn’t.’

That same summer, police discovered Vili and Mary Kay in a minvan. Vili quickly lied to the police, saying he was 18. Although taken to the police station, they both were released after claiming there was no improper conduct. 

Mary Kay later described their connection as a ‘million moments that just kept building something very beautiful and scary at the same time’ in a 2004 interview with Laury King. 

In the autumn of 1996, Mary Kay found out she was pregnant with the schoolboy’s baby. 

Mary Kay broke the news of her pregnancy to her best friend, Michelle Lobdell on the phone. ‘I have some news and this is difficult,’ she told her friend. ‘I’m pregnant and it’s not Steve’s.’

Lobdell said in an interview with the New York Post that it ‘was a shocking moment’ and that Mary Kay made it out that the father was a college-aged student. ‘She didn’t tell me he was 12.’

Steve Letourneau, Mary Kay’s then-husband was rifling through papers in early 1997 when he found love letters between his wife and her student. Confronting the teenager over them, he threatened to tell Vili’s family about their sordid relationship if he didn’t end it.

‘The fear of my mom’s reaction and the thought of everyone being affected by it was one of my biggest fears, so I said, for the better of everyone, OK. It was kind of devastating,’ recalled Vili in a 2018 interview.

However, it was too late, as just a few weeks later on 4 March, Mary Kay was arrested for second-degree child rape after a tip from a relative of Steve’s.

She was released on bail and went on to have her daughter Audrey in May 1997. 

At her trial three months after the birth, Mary Kay pled guilty to child rape in exchange for a three-month jail sentence and probation. 

‘It was wrong, and I am sorry,’ she said in the hearing. ‘I give you my word it will not happen again.’

Her request was approved, with the condition Mary Kay had no further contact with Vili, who always claimed that the relationship was consensual and continuously maintained he wasn’t a victim. ‘I’m not ashamed of being in love with Mary Kay,’ he told Inside Edition in 1999. 

But her vow to leave the teen alone was shortlived, when Mary Kay and Vili were found again in a car soon after her release – this time with over $6,000 in cash, baby clothes, and her passport, leading authorities to believe they were planning to leave the country. 

Mary Kay was brought back to court, by then pregnant for a second time with Vili’s baby from her brief stint out of prison, for her breach of parole and told by the judge she had been given an opportunity that she ‘foolishly squandered.’

She was sentenced to seven and a half years in Washington Correction Centre for Women, during which time she would give birth to her youngest daughter behind bars and get a divorce from her husband. 

Both daughters were in the custody of Vili’s mother, Soona, while Mary Kay finished her sentence. 

Even though Soona blamed Mary Kay for ruining her son’s life, she tearfully said when testifying in the 2002 case that she couldn’t hate the former teacher. 

‘What happened was morally wrong,’ she told the court. ‘She was married, and this was a teenage boy. I’ve lost my son. I lost my sweet little boy who could draw. I knew he would grow up, and he wouldn’t be my little boy, but I didn’t know I’d lose him at 12.’

‘I can’t say I hate Mary,’ she continued. ‘Just a couple of weeks ago, my granddaughter turned around to me and asked, “Do you love my Mary mommy grandma?” And I’m supposed to tell her yeah.’

While Mary Kay was in prison, Vili talked openly in his Walters interview about how he went ‘through a really dark time,’ battling depression for years in the wake of Mary Kay’s imprisonment. 

‘I’m surprised I’m still alive today,’ he said in the exclusive chat. ‘My friends couldn’t help me because they had no idea what it was like to be a parent, I mean, because we were all 14, 15.’

In August 2004, Mary Kay was released from prison and Vili filed a motion in court requesting a reversal of the no-contact order against Mary Kay.

It was granted, and 10 months later, they were married in a lavish ceremony with 250 friends and family at a winery in Washington. Vili was 21 years old.

For 10 years, the couple lived together in Seattle – Vili working as a DJ and Mary Kay as a legal assistant – while raising their two girls.

But in 2017, Vili filed for a legal separation, supposedly due to his desire to start a marijuana business. 

‘It’s not necessarily what you think,’ he told Radar Online. ‘When you want to get licensed, they do background checks on both parties. If I decide to be a part of it, I have to be licensed, and I have to be vetted, and so does a spouse. She has a past. She has a history.’

However, a source close to Mary Kay told People magazine a different story, about how the couple had multiple discussions over where things were going.

‘She really tried everything she could think of, but she just wasn’t able to work it out,’ the source said. ‘She loves him, she knows he loves her, but it really seems like it has run its course.’

Although the couple eventually divorced in 2019, Mary Kay would end up spending her last weeks with her ex-husband after she was diagnosed with colon cancer and ‘reached out’ to him via text in 2020.

‘Vili, to his credit, when he found out about [her illness], and then especially the last couple of months, he moved back from California and he gave her 24/7 care, literally all the way to the end,’ said David Gehrke, who represented Letourneau throughout her trial, in an interview with KIRO radio.

In July 2020, Mary Kay passed away, but in the lead up to her death, she had allegedly penned dozens of letters to atone for her actions.

‘The bottom line was that she understood on a very deep level that she had really made a mess of her life and the lives of many other people back in 1996,’ one friend told People.

‘She realised that even though things turned out relatively good, that she was responsible for a wide swath of destruction by her actions.’

Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing Claie.Wilson@metro.co.uk 

Share your views in the comments below.

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These unremarkable artefacts act as contemporary exhibits; reminders of lives lost and families broken in Ukraine.

The items are part of the War Fragments project, which offers powerful visual representation of the impact of the war on people’s lives. Each cube represents a story of survival, capturing the personal experiences of those affected.

300 objects were taken from de-occupied towns and villages around Ukraine, the territories that suffered the most and each, sunk in epoxy resin, is accompanied by a unique story of the horrors of war. Among them a pair of baby socks, artillery found in a private garden and a small Ukrainian flag.

With the cubes eventually being auctioned off, the funds will go to children and military men hurt in the conflict.

Tetyana Fiks, one of the exhibition’s co-founders, tells Metro.co.uk: ‘This project means a lot to people.

‘We all understand what these stories are telling. When you live in Ukraine and you have missile attacks almost every day, all parts of Ukraine feel it. The war is inside every one of us.’

Here, we take a look at just some of the pieces on display and get a glimpse of the harrowing stories behind them.

For more information about the exhibition, click here.

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Whatever you call them – rubbers, Johnnies, or even a French letter if you’re being super-fancy – you’ve probably used them.

While over the years we’ve seen a huge shift in attitudes to condoms, from being shunned in the 70s to considered cool (for the majority of us) by the noughties, they’re something that is now used without hesitation. Well, most of the time.

But what’s seen them turn into such a must-have item, that even Kendrick Lamar acknowledged a shift in perception in his Money Trees lyrics, rapping: ‘Back when condom wrappers wasn’t cool’.

It was in 1855 that we were introduce to the first phophylactic, which was made from rubber as thick as a bicycle inner tube and custom made. Fast forward nearly 170 years and Durex – a brand that occupies 40% of the global condom market, worth $4.6bn – are set to deliver their ‘thinnest’ ever condoms called Nude, to ‘maximise sensation’, this year.

However, it’s a metamorphosis has been a long time coming (puns aside) – and one involving a global health crisis, accidental pregnancies, demand for better options… not forgetting the ongoing pleasure debate.

Ben Wilson, sexual wellbeing director at Reckitt, home to Durex, says that although there’s still taboo surrounding condoms, it’s only been in the last three decades that significant progress has been made.

‘We’ve always tried to break the stigma around condoms, such as people feel they can’t have the conversation around safe sex, an embarrassment of buying condoms, and the ever-old challenge around condoms “reducing pleasure”,’ he tells Metro.co.uk.

These days though, he adds, users are ‘thinking about a condom as part of a larger sexual occasion, versus just the moment of penetration’ and says that condoms ‘remove the anxiety’ of unplanned pregnancy and contracting an STI or STD.

From Ben’s perspective, marketing has played a huge role in getting people on board with using them.

‘In the 1970s, we were sponsoring Formula 1 and lots of motorsports, because there was a young male demographic watching these things at the time. In the 1990s we were doing work with MTV, which also attracted young people,’ he explains.

‘Durex has a huge history, but during World War 2, the supply of condoms from the US and Germany dried up, so Durex as a British company became the key player in the market. However, it was only in the 1990s condom usage became “normal” and widespread.

‘Culture and wider society issues have had an impact too. The AIDS crisis of the 1980s was a huge driver for the benefits of condoms.’

While censorship stopped conversations from breaking down stigma, some ad companies worked hard to get their product message across.

For example, back in 2010, advertising condoms was forbidden in France. However, one French non-profit, supporting those with HIV and AIDS called Aides, decided to create an advert showing graffiti drawings of genitalia enjoying sex with a condom.

Despite it going against guidelines, the short video was given the green light, paving the way for future condom advertising.

Usage is a whole other beast though, and the reasons people personally choose to go with and without condoms wildly vary.

A study among homosexual men found common reasons for not using one included being in a steady relationship (32.8%), being unprepared (19.4%), and not being bothered (19.4%).

Meanwhile, other research has looked into being pressured by men, especially as a woman, to forgo condom use.

Tricia Wise, is a safe sex influencer who goes by the name Safe Slut. She tells Metro.co.uk that although she always prefers to use condoms, there were times in the past when she felt pressured to go without – that was until she contracted genital herpes (HSV2) in November 2019.

‘I liked to practice safe sex when I could, but I was also very afraid of advocating for myself,’ Tricia, 29, explains. ‘So if I was with people who were making a big deal about wearing a condom I’d say it was fine to go without, but then feel anxious and get tested afterwards.

‘Condoms have always been my preferred method of contraception.

‘Now that I have herpes, I’m an even bigger fan of safer sex, but with herpes, condoms aren’t 100% effective. It can help reduce the risk, but herpes is transferred skin to skin, not fluid, so as the condom isn’t covering your entire genital area, it can spread.’

For Tricia, communication is key when practicing safe sex.

‘I ask my partner when they’ve been tested and what those results look like, then I share my status, then we decide what we want to do,’ she explains.

‘My main thing when I’m going to have the disclosure conversation is I don’t do it in the moment, I do it before when clothes are still on.

‘I always start by asking them about their sexual health, because as well as using condoms to lessen the risk of spreading herpes, I’m doing it to protect myself from them too.

‘The response is always telling – if they say they don’t get tested or use stigmatising language, that’s a turn off for me.’

For casual one night stands, condoms are ‘not even a question’ for Tricia, who adds that she’s never had any bad responses when revealing she has HSV – either they ask for more information, or already are clued up.

The evolution of condoms

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The evolution of condoms

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James* was another who had his contraception choice shaped by personal experience.

Never a ‘one-night stand kind of guy’, he says condoms just weren’t a subject he’d discuss with friends – and are still something he feels self-conscious talking about, which is why he didn’t want to share his identity.

Although James admits he wasn’t initially a fan of the contraception, the 27-year-old now swears by them.

‘When I got comfortable with a new partner, I used to do the pullout method,’ he explains, adding that he felt like he could trust them to be truthful about STIs or or get tested.

‘The emotion in the moment would take over, and even though I knew the method is risky, I didn’t really care – until I experienced a pregnancy scare.

‘My partner was told she was pregnant at a hospital when she went to A&E in pain. But then 10 minutes later, they told her it was a mistake and she wasn’t.

‘It was a huge shock to the system,’ admits James. ‘So now I use condoms, because I have a primal fear that if I become a dad, I will be absolutely f****d.’

Being diagnosed with gonorrhea was a massive wake up call for Emma*, who doesn’t want to be identified for fear of stigma still surrounding the STI.

She says she chose not to use condoms as she preferred the sensation without them and found the act of putting one on mid-foreplay a ‘mood kill’.

‘There was never an active decision not to use condoms, it was more that I would get caught up in the heat of the moment and go without, because I was on another form of contraception (either the pill or implant),’ Emma explains.

‘I put STIs to the back of mind – even though I knew that was stupid. Then someone I’d slept with informed me he had gonorrhea. It was hugely embarrassing, from telling past partners so they could be checked to having to take time out of work to visit the clinic for treatment.

‘It was also a massive wake-up call, however, and made me realise that the real mood-killer is contracting the clap.’

Now in a long term relationship, Emma uses condoms every time they’re intimate due to side effects with hormonal contraception.

‘While rootling around in a drawer for a condom mid-way through foreplay isn’t the sexiest thing in the world, it’s far better than an unplanned pregnancy,’ she adds.

‘If I was single, I’d insist on using a condom and it’d be a deal breaker for me to be met with resistance. After all, I learned of the consequences of avoiding condoms the hard way.’

Not all sexual health concerns can be avoided with condoms, however.

Aside from the health perspective, even with perfect use, two in every 100 people will have unintended pregnancy each year, while ‘typical use’, according to the NHS, sees 12 in every 100.

That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be using them, as no form of contraception is perfect, but it does point to the difference they can make if used properly.

Currently in the UK, gonorrhoea cases jumped by over 50% between 2021 and 2022, it’s the highest number of diagnoses made in a year since records began in 1918.

For all of the progress made to make condom use common practice, there’s still work to be done evidently.

Though it’s worth noting that other forms of protection have been widely advocated for, too. Among gay men, the use of PrEP – HIV prevention medication – is also popular and might inadvertently reduce condom reliance.

Lisa Hallgarten, head of policy and public affairs at Brook, a sexual health charity, tells Metro.co.uk: ‘The high level of gonorrhoea clearly tells us that there is insufficient condom use.

‘This is also reflected in what we are seeing in our own clinics, where over the past four years the number of people saying they do not use condoms has increased by over 10%.

‘It is vital that the effective promotion of testing and treatment for STIs is matched by stronger messages about prevention and the need for consistent condom use.  

‘Sexual health services are already stretched to breaking point with a huge rise in demand for services alongside many years of cuts to funding. Additional investment needs to be provided for national and local schemes to promote and provide condoms.’

There can be a generational divide too, in terms of attitudes to condoms.

Mark*, who is in his late 30s, has gone through phases of irregular condom use in the past due to feeling less anxious about catching STIs, and enjoying periods of hedonistic sex.

He previously worked as a fitness model and went to sex parties in his 30s, during a time he describes as being ‘high on testosterone’.

Although the sex party scene always advocates for the use of condoms, Mark didn’t always use them. One ocassion he remembers was during a threesome with men and women, where he says he got caught up in the moment and, in his words, wanted to ‘spread his seed’.

Now, he tells Metro.co.uk he wouldn’t run the risk as you ‘just can’t know’ if someone is healthy or taking birth control properly.

‘We’re descended from apes, and condoms aren’t natural – it’s a fact of life – but I’m absolutely pro-condoms,’ he says.

‘I came out of my old phase due to loss and grief within my family. It made me change my lifestyle.’

And as popularity and demand for condoms continues to grow, some makers have been thinking outside the box in a bid to make their’s the go-to brand.

Roam offers skin tone condoms in a range of shades, to ‘celebrate individuality’ as they put it online; then there are ultra-thin condoms from brands like Skyn to combat the pleasure issue; while others such as Hanx, who are meeting the needs of vegans and the chemically conscious. Environmentally friendly options are also offered by XO! whose products carbon neutral and biodegrade in a year.

However, we still haven’t reached condom perfection says Ben, who thinks there’s more innovation to come – and the more skin-like they feel, the better in terms of uptake.

‘I think condoms that deliver the most pleasure are going to be the winners, because ultimately the constant battle for us is how to deliver more pleasure,’ he explains.

‘That could be in how thin or transparent it is, how it smells, or what materials and lubrication is used. All those sensorial elements.’

‘Protection and pleasure together,’ he adds. Which is ultimately all anyone could want from a condom.

Sexual Health Awareness Week runs from 11-17 September, for more information click here.

*Names have been changed.

Do you have a story to share?

Get in touch by emailing MetroLifestyleTeam@Metro.co.uk.

2023 is the year to rip up your sexual script and abandon ideas about what is normal, according to Ruby Rare, author, sex educator and co-star of new Channel 4 show Sex Rated.

Ruby has outlined her top tips to help people with their sexual debut on metro.co.uk’s Smutdrop podcast, arguing that the phrase ‘losing your virginity’ is outdated because the experience is more about gain.

She tells host Miranda Kane: ‘I don’t really like the idea of losing your virginity. Because – where does it go? What happened? It doesn’t mean anything. To me, experiencing sexual pleasure and sexual intimacy is about gaining experience and knowledge.’

Her advice for people making their sexual debut is to go at your own pace and try to dismiss the idea of what may or may not be normal.

‘The typical way that we see virginity is a man and a woman having sex, which involves a penis going into a vagina. For lots of people, that isn’t the sex that is going to appeal to them, maybe because of sexuality, but also because of pleasure,’ explains Ruby.

‘We know that for the vast majority of women, penis and vagina sex isn’t the most pleasurable because it actually doesn’t stimulate the clitoris as much as loads of other wonderful, sexy things.’

Ruby argues that the emphasis on partnered sex devalues masturbation, adding: ‘I first had sex with someone else, when I was 15, and for years, that was the moment I started having sex.

‘Actually, now when I look back on it, I had been exploring solo sex for years before then. And I’d already had some sexual encounters with teenage girls. And I completely devalued those experiences, because the cultural script had told me that that wasn’t what sex looked like.’

Ruby calls on those encountering sex for the first time to make sure they’re clued up on issues like lube, ‘an essential part of sex’, condoms, STI testing and consent, advising a look at info from sexual health and wellbeing experts Brook.

Alongside the term ‘losing your virginity’, the idea of what’s ‘normal’ needs to be binned, she adds, as everyone is different.

‘Normal is not the same for everyone. And it’s not about trying to fit into what other people’s versions of normal are,’ says Ruby. ‘What you’re doing and experiencing as long as it’s not causing you pain, or other people pain – I want that to be okay.’

But above all, she advises that if you’re having your first sexual encounter, it needs to be with someone you trust, respect and can have those awkward conversations with.

‘It’s less about – are you in love? Is this person someone who you’re going to spend the rest of your life with?,’ she explains. ‘The 2023 version is, is this someone I respect? Is this someone who respects me? Is there mutual care there between us? And that can still exist in really casual sex.’

Ruby also tells Miranda that she would like sex education to focus more on pleasure, a word that is missed out when the subject is discussed at schools, and warns against following the ‘sexual scripts’ that we’ve been given – arguing that sex does not need to look like anything that you’ve seen or heard about before.

‘Provided things are consensual, and that you’re checking in with each other, there’s no rules for what happens or what order it happens in,’ she says.

And Ruby wants experimenters to understand that real life sex is nothing like porn; which is an entertainment form.

‘Porn is like Formula One racing. People who do it professionally, they really know what they’re doing,’ she explains. ‘I struggle to parallel park still -but there’s beauty in being able to just pootle around and go for a drive.’

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But it wasn’t.  

By the time Dilly was a teenager and attending secondary school, she was desperately begging her mother not to send her in and often arriving at the school gates late and in a visibly distressed state. 

‘It’s awful feeling like you literally have to try and drag your child somewhere, where they don’t want to be,’ remembers Lara.

However, Dilly’s fears weren’t borne from being a target for school bullies or because she hadn’t completed homework. She simply didn’t want to be at school – and she’s one of a growing number of children who find it hard or even impossible to attend a formal education setting. 

Since the coronavirus lockdowns, persistent absenteeism is up 117%, equating to nearly a quarter of of all pupils in primary, secondary and special state schools – or 1,615,772 pupils. 

But this is hardly a new phenomenon, as Ellie Costello, executive director of the social enterprise Squarepeg, explains. 

The organisation advocates for children who struggle to attend school, working in partnership with the parent/carer led organisation Not Fine in School, which was set up in November 2018 to raise awareness of the barriers to school attendance and empower families impacted by them. 

In just five years membership for Not Fine in School has grown to 43,000 people, whose children have found mainstream school attendance a struggle whether it’s down to unmet special education needs and disabilities, physical or mental illness, bullying and assault, or trauma.

Some have also cited excessive academic pressure, overly strict behaviour policies, an irrelevant curriculum and children missing sense of belonging. 

‘No one wanted to talk about it, but then Covid legitimised the attendance conversation,’ Ellie explains. 

‘There is a lot of disaffection bubbling away. An ever-increasing number of children and young people are developing high levels of anxiety – be it performance-related, socially, or because they can’t cope with the environment. Under this government, attainment and progress from the age of four onwards is monitored in a way that is excessive. It prioritises a certain type of learning. Quite simply, more and more kids just aren’t ticking that box.’

Recalling how one schoolgirl told her that walking through the school gates felt like wading through vicious, sharp ice, Ellie adds: ‘These aren’t snowflake kids, that’s a misconception. Young people now have so much more to cope with – from the threat of climate collapse to Instagram perfection – and they have to be so much more resilient. 

‘We’ve never recovered from the cuts to education, which were announced in 2010 and implemented under austerity. We were sold the idea that if we just get tough on discipline, and establish high aspirations, everything else will follow. But you can’t have it both ways. You either want a child in the classroom and engaged in learning, or you will put them in isolation all day for wearing the wrong shoe laces.’

Dilly is now 14 and admits she has always struggled with attending school. 

‘I’ve never liked it,’ she tells Metro.co.uk. ‘It’s about the system. When I have to go into school, I feel overwhelmed and stressed. I tend to catastrophise a lot.’

As someone who is autistic and dyslexic, Dilly is an ambassador for The Multi Schools Council which challenges perceptions of difference, and the negative stigma shown towards children with special educational needs and disability (SEND) and mental health difficulties. 

‘Dilly struggled all the way through primary school, and now finds secondary school challenging as well,’ explains her mum, Lara. ‘She can get tearful and stressed the evening before school, and then in the morning as well. Often she’ll be late and will need a lot of reassurance from staff, who have often met her at the door. Even if she has a good day, she will be so exhausted by attending school that she is unable to do homework or enjoy social activities afterwards.  

‘Recently, during exam week, she became so overwhelmed with the pressure that she couldn’t go in. But once she felt calmer at home, she was able to sit her maths test under timed conditions, unprompted by anyone. I was really surprised as maths is her least favourite subject and greatest challenge. It shows how genuine her struggle is.’

Lara adds that school staff are often very well meaning with children who might experience anxiety about coming to school, ‘but they don’t often fully understand what kind of consistent approach would be helpful,’ she says. 

‘The problem is a lack of resources and training. Teaching staff do want to do the right thing, but there are lots of demands on them, and everyone within the whole school environment seems to be under a lot of pressure. It’s often children who are autistic, or neurodivergent, who can’t cope. Autistic children are so much more sensitive to noises, feelings, and the atmosphere. Everything is amplified for them.’

Child clinical psychologist Dr Selina Warlow runs The Nook Therapy clinic, in Farnham, Surrey, and regularly works with clients experiencing school avoidance, specifically those with Autism and ADHD. 

‘Schools are certainly not to blame for school avoidance because sometimes it is not always clear what each child needs,’ she explains. ‘I have had many children with ASD explain how even changing the seating around in the classroom can be very stressful for them. School can then go from feeling predictable to feeling full of uncertainty, which can lead to anxiety. In addition, children with ASD can have difficulties with social interactions and having to walk into a class of 30 children everyday can feel very daunting.

‘For children with ADHD some of the challenges can be that they are expected to remain seated or maintain concentration throughout their lessons, but they may need to move or fidget. At times their hyperactivity, impulsivity and/or inattention can be misinterpreted as them being defiant or naughty, and this can begin to impact on a child’s self-esteem.’

Dr Warlow believes that despite schools being more adaptive, individualised support is still needed, ideally in collaboration with healthcare professionals. 

‘Many of these children thrive at school,’ she adds. ‘They may think outside the box, be brilliant artists, sports men/women, or have a unique ability to hyperfocus on certain topics. The list of strengths is endless. These are the young people that I believe will change the world, with the right support and by nurturing their strengths.’

Dr Warlow adds that since covid it has been difficult to get some children back in the classroom, while at the start of the pandemic, Dr Gavin Morgan – an educational psychologist at University College London – warned the government that school closures would lead to mental health ramifications amongst children and young people. 

‘It gave permission for some children not to attend school, because suddenly school seemed to be an option, and there was some kind of choice involved,’ he explains. ‘Especially for children who were already at risk of school avoidance, they just thought, I don’t have to go anymore.

‘For most kids, most of the time, school is the best place for them. But for some children, school is difficult, and it is anxiety-inducing. One size never fits all.’

Dr Morgan believes there are increasing reasons why school avoidance seems to be affecting more children. 

‘We can’t separate children from families and wider society. They get impacted by parental pressures, and families are finding life hard at the moment due to the cost of living crisis. It’s just tough for everyone. There’s lots of increased pressures on kids,’ he says.  

Of course, school closures were just one of many changes which children lived through during Covid-19. 

After surveying more than 6000 parents in England, new research from the Institute for Fiscal Studies (IFS) and the UCL Institute of Education has found that almost half believe their child’s emotional development suffered as a result of the pandemic. 

Children whose parents experienced job instability, compared to their pre-Covid employment situation, were more likely to be affected. However, Dr Morgan adds that the situation is increasingly tough for teaching staff too. 

‘We expect a lot from teachers, more so than we have ever done before,’ he says. ‘Teachers aren’t just single subject teachers any more, they have a hugely complicated role nowadays.

‘Everything should start with the school providing support – and not punishment. There needs to be a whole school approach to talking about and dealing with these issues, and then targeted support for individual children and their families.’

This is something which Dilly has benefitted from, after moving to a school which was open to understanding her difficulties. 

‘We can phone them in the morning, and say she’s having a hard day and struggling to come in, and they’re able to suggest ways to help, and we know we won’t get fined. It takes that pressure off,’ admits mum, Lara. 

‘When she’s not able to come in, they’ve sent a test home for her, or they just accept the fact she will be a bit late that day… even so, on many days she still feels completely burnt out and can’t face going in. 

‘Like all other parents, we want our child to achieve – we know she is capable and we want her to do her best. But there shouldn’t be a blanket response – the majority of families just need help and support, which is not there.’

Parentkind is a national charity which gives those with a parenting role a voice in education.

It believes mental health workers should be embedded within schools, and has allied itself to Citizen UK’s national campaign to ask policymakers to make this a reality. 

‘Parental concerns over their child’s mental wellbeing remain high,’ Parentkind’s Chief Executive Jason Elsom tells Metro.co.uk. 

‘Partial school closures and the cancellation of exams during the pandemic eased the pressure for some pupils, but the return to normality after major disruption to their lives has proved a set-back for many, and this is likely to be a driving factor behind high school absence rates.

‘Our Parent Voice Report revealed that parents of children eligible for free school meals or with special educational needs and disabilities were much likelier to report concerns over their child’s wellbeing, indicating that the issue is more pressing and serious for too many of the most vulnerable and disadvantaged young people.’

For some families, home education is a better option. 

Munira Adenwalla, 48, believes children’s school avoidance is typically rooted in issues around a child’s mental health and emotional wellbeing – and has taken the decision to home educate her 11-year-old son Mohammed.

The mum of one noticed how he explored and learned best through movement, physical activity and hands-on experiences – and Mohammed now benefits from gymnastics, swimming, water sports, creative crafting, using technology, computer programming and meeting others in his community. 

‘As parents, we wanted him to learn based on his own interests, pace, and through his own learning style,’ Munira explains. ‘This was not a difficult decision at all. I believe parents have a strong intuition or gut instinct of what is best for their child. 

‘It’s a big myth that home educated kids miss out on socialisation. There are many groups and communities of home education families so our children get to mix. I love that my son can figure out how to play gently with toddlers, be looked up to by younger children as the fun older kid, play with same aged kids, learn from older children, and chat with their parents too.

‘The reality is home educated kids have a big variety of social opportunities and the choice for quiet or home days if they want or need it.’

Munira adds that she would love for teachers to get more training and support from professionals to understand and accommodate children whose brains are wired differently, and for schools to have all the resources they need to support all children in their own unique ways of learning.

‘By forcing kids to go back to school we are then giving them a message not to listen to their own bodies or minds when they feel uncomfortable, unsafe, or distressed,’ she warns. ‘That they just have to deal with all of this. This isn’t right. 

‘Imagine if this was a job, would you call it ‘work refusal?’ You’d probably talk to your boss, try to work things out, and then quit if it didn’t go smoothly. 

‘That’s just what school refusal is.’

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The callout, which came from family history site Ancestry, resulted in more than 2,200 submissions, all celebrating the richness and diversity of family stories across the UK through the years.

Now a selection of these historic and contemporary family snaps have been brought together for an exhibtion at the National Portrait Gallery.

Called the Nation’s Family Album, the exhibit is open to the public for free in the Spotlight Space until the 10th of September 2023, while others are on digital display.

‘The National Portrait Gallery is home to some of the world’s most famous faces, but nothing feels more rewarding than being able to display and explore the history of Britain’s everyday people,’ Dr Alison Smith, Chief Curator at National Portrait Gallery and member of the judging panel tells Metro.co.uk.

Simon Pearce, Family History Expert at Ancestry and member of the judging panel adds: “Photographs are a valuable source for family history as they provide a snapshot into the everyday lives and events of our families and ancestors.

‘When a caption or backstory accompanies a photo, it can be incredibly revealing and invaluable for future generations.

‘This is why we are thrilled to have partnered with the National Portrait Gallery for this initiative. Viewing these images, and understanding the unique stories behind them, is a truly moving experience.’

Here are just some of the glorious portraits on display.

The exhibition is available for free public viewing in the Spotlight Space until 10 September. For more information, click here.

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But it wasn’t just about dusting herself off and moving on. She wanted more. A new job, a new home… a new country. 

However, as a 35-year-old with a four-bed house and a mortgage, not to mention an already pretty fulfilling career and good social life, she couldn’t help feeling like she was chasing an impossible dream. 

That was until Kirsten happened to have a chat with a senior colleague at the sports retail company she’d worked for as the associate marketing manager the last five years. 

It turned out that there was an opportunity to head up the business’s marketing team 4,000 miles away in Dubai. The rest, she says, is history. 

‘I didn’t hesitate to say yes,’ Kirsten tells Metro.co.uk. ‘While I loved my job and the people I worked with, I knew this new chance had the potential to project me further in my career than I could ever have expected.’

With UK Google searches for ‘move abroad’ up by 1000% in 2022 – the highest level in internet history – 90,000 British citizens made the move overseas for work last year. 

While most were in the 25-44 age group according to research from Radical Storage, women were the gender more likely to make the leap – with 45% saying they would like to work abroad compared to 39% of men. 

Giving insight into the growing trend of women moving abroad for work, careers expert Victoria McLean tells Metro.co.uk: ‘Twenty or so years ago, women didn’t have the access to education or professional development that they have now. As this has changed, it’s enabled more women to seek careers and career progression in another country.’

While moving overseas provided Kirsten with the chance she needed to start over, it wasn’t a seamless process, she admits. Leaving family and friends behind was difficult, for a start.

‘My parents know I am very headstrong and determined but I think they might have hoped there was only a small chance it would end up happening,’ she remembers. ‘It all became very real when they dropped me off at the airport – there were tears.

‘Some of my friends were sad to see me go and others understood why I wanted to. However, they were all excited about having a new holiday destination and a reason to leave their kids at home for a girls’ trip.’

Kirsten also admits that she didn’t really give herself much time to process her feelings. ‘I guess I took the steps to move without really thinking about it until I got to Dubai,’ she says. 

‘An old school friend of mine was out there with his wife and stepdaughter, so this provided me with a safety blanket because I had someone who I could ask questions about the process.’

Kirsten, who remained in a head of marketing role, admits that it did take time to adjust in Dubai because she was used to working in fast-paced environments and the processes there were slower than she expected. However, reflecting on her journey so far, she says; ‘Planning my life hadn’t really worked out as I thought it would, so I owed it to myself to see how this opportunity went.’

Research has also found that taking a career overseas tends to benefit women more than men, with HSBC’s Expat Explorer Survey revealing that the average female expat’s income increases by around 27%, compared to 23% for men. Kirsten agrees, saying she is much better off financially since moving to Dubai.  Her salary has increased by roughly 2.5 times before tax (and therefore more, as Dubai has no income tax).

‘You do have to bear in mind that the cost of living is much higher here and there are other costs to factor in regardless of having no income tax,’ she adds.

However, Kirsten also points out that she doesn’t think she would be able to find a similar job in the UK on the salary she is currently on. ‘The cost of living has increased dramatically, which is one of the reasons why I’m not ready to move back to the UK just yet.’

While there’s no doubt the move has given her career success, Kirsten says it has impacted her social life. She finds it difficult to keep in touch with friends in the UK, and when she makes plans to visit her home county of Devon, she also has to factor in stops for London, Newcastle and Manchester, where she also has connections. ‘It isn’t easy because that’s when it starts to feel like less of a holiday,’ she explains. ‘To add to that, I feel so guilty when I don’t manage it all.’

And although Kirsten has been able to make friends outside of work in Dubai, she says that romantic relationships have been ‘the most challenging aspect’ and ‘something she is yet to conquer with any kind of success’. 

‘I guess we can’t have it all,’ she shrugs.

Georgia Austin, 26, tells Metro.co.uk that she was working 40 hours a week as a copywriter at Sweaty Betty before deciding to go freelance. Although she loved her job, she wanted more control of her career.

After launching a freelance copywriting business and taking on a freelance LinkedIn networking role with a US-based market research firm as a ‘connector’ – offering professionals in an assigned industry and market on the site money to complete a 10 minute survey – she decided to take the plunge and go freelance full-time. But in Brazil, over 5,000 miles from where she grew up in Buckinghamshire and Berkshire.

‘With the money I was earning as a freelancer, I knew that one reliable client was all I needed to pay my living expenses. I immediately booked my flight to Brazil – a decision that, little to my knowledge, precluded the global pandemic,’ she says. 

Before deciding to move abroad, Georgia viewed her career as an exploration. She had a passion for writing and making money online. ‘I grew up as a bookworm and wrote short stories as a kid,’ she explains ‘I’ve always loved words and after landing my role at Sweaty Betty and writing for other sportswear brands, I knew I could monetise my passion,’ she says. 

Once Georgia realised that companies needed freelancers like her, it became even easier for her to make money online during the pandemic. She created an account on Fiverr, an online platform where freelancers can market themselves, and she soon was inundated with work. ‘It was spontaneous and life-altering – I never expected that things would change forever,’ she says.

But why Brazil? Having visited the country a few times, Georgia says she felt like it was the right fit for her. On one of her visits, she taught English in Rocinha (South America’s largest favela) during the Paralympics. During this time, she had already begun to build a strong network of friends and connections – including her future husband’s family. 

‘I met my husband in the first week of arriving in Brazil, at the carnival. There was a two-hour queue to get in and we almost left the line due to boredom. Then we met inside and started talking,’ recalls Georgia.

And while others might have felt nervous about packing up and moving to a different continent, Georgia insists it was a breeze. ‘It felt like a puzzle piece fitting right into its spot,’ she insists.’ If I could live and work anywhere in the world, why would I stay in the UK where taxes are high and my money wouldn’t go very far?’

Since the move, Georgia has worked hard, scaling the freelance business she set up a few years ago to generate $2.1million in total revenue in just over two years. ‘I had the business model down and a great service offering, so I took things to new heights by onboarding industry experts to help fulfil demand, which ultimately tripled my earnings each month,’ she says.

Now, following the success of her agency, Georgia has founded a spin off company and bought a home in Florida. ‘My long-term plan is to scale and sell my company then settle down in the US while spending a few months each year travelling around the world. Although I don’t foresee a permanent return to the UK, I will always cherish the relationships and experiences I’ve had there,’ she says.

Victoria McLean, CEO and Founder of Career Consultancy City CV, adds that she believes the pandemic has had a part to play in the rising number of female expats. 

‘COVID-19 gave us better professional mobility. When you have the option of working from anywhere in the world, it’s easier to move abroad or work for companies that are based anywhere in the world,’ she explains.

‘Women have long asked for better flexibility and I think it took a global pandemic to deliver this. Over the past few years, there has been an increase of opportunities in female-led industries, like healthcare for example.’

When Sarah-Jane McQueen had the idea of moving from Croydon to Australia for work floated to her by a colleague, the first thing she did was discuss the move with her long-term boyfriend, who had always lived in London. ‘We then went through the process of applying for our visa. Due to the backlog from Covid, it took about six months for our entry to be granted,’ she tells Metro.co.uk.

As the visa took a long time to arrive, Sarah-Jane admits there was a lot of time to question the move, with many nights spent weighing up the cons of thinking what could go wrong. ‘We didn’t want the opportunity passing us by. We got through it together with a pact that if we were miserable after six months, we would come back home to London.’ 

However, while she hired a relocation consultant to help with the logistics, Sarah-Jane, who is now a COO of education marketing company CoursesOnline, knew that making the move wasn’t just about her and her partner. She had to think of her eight-year-old daughter too.

Having only ever lived in their family home, she says her little girl struggled with such a big move. 

‘Once we started sharing where we were going and involving her in finding our new house, she started to get excited,’ remembers Sarah-Jane, 42. However, once moved, reality hit and it was hard for the family to see her go from being the popular girl in school in the UK to being an outsider. 

Sarah-Jane admits that seeing her child being excluded from birthday parties and play dates was heartbreaking. 

‘We did have a few incidents on the playground at school because she got angry or lashed out, which is why we enrolled her in other activities outside school like swimming and yoga,’ she explains. ‘I had mum guilt, but over time she’s found her place. Almost a year in and she’s the happiest I have ever seen her.’

With a relocation package that also enabled Sarah-Jane and her family to turn their London home into an investment rental property, it’s safe to say they’re financially better off. Another bonus is that the income taxes and other taxes are better off in Australia (UK contribution is 4% whereas Australia is 11%).

Even so, Sarah-Jane admits to FOMO when she sees pictures of her friends during nights out or events. ‘Not seeing my family all the time is difficult, but I do my best to make it work,’ she says. 

It’s also been hard as her grandmother had a stroke 18 months ago, and she admits not being as close to her as she’d like, is her only regret about the move. Other than that, Sarah-Jane describes her journey as a ‘wild adventure’, adding ‘We’re closer than ever as a family unit and my career has gone from strength to strength.’

According to Victoria McLean, while this trend for Brits to move abroad for work looks set to continue, there are some serious negatives that go beyond FOMO and feeling homesick. 

‘While a move abroad might be a real career boost for women, there might also be a knock on effect of reduced gender diversity in the UK with the hardest impact felt at senior level,’ she explains. 

‘There are a number of ways this trend could impact the UK labour force but the most important is probably “brain drain” or the loss of education and skills.’

To counteract any potential critical drain on talent in the UK, Ray’n Terry, HR Director at Totaljobs advises that British employers ‘evaluate their offering for international workers and how they can compete on a global scale. 

‘Whether that’s giving workers greater flexibility to work anywhere they want in the world or developing relocation packages that highlight the quality of living aspects of your location,’ she explains.

As for Sarah-Jane’s plans, she and her family expect to stay in Australia until their visa is up in 2026. They also have a pathway to permanent residency – a process they can start next year. 

‘Moving back to the UK will be likely when our parents need us to help look after them,’ she explains. 

‘At the moment, we’re just taking each month as it comes. Because at the moment, everything is great where we are.’ 

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But there one was one scene that really struck a nerve – and created memes-a-plenty – as America Fererra’s character Gloria spooled off the many impossible double standards faced by women.

One in particular felt jarring – especially in the face of today’s body positivity movement: ‘You have to be thin, but not too thin. And you can never say you want to be thin. You have to say you want to be healthy, but also you have to be thin.’

Such a statement showed that no matter how hard we’ve worked – and are still working – to help women embrace and love the skin they’re in, the message is falling miserably short.

So, why are will stil hung up about being skinny?

Sophie Hughes is now in her thirties, but says she spent most of her teenage years and twenties desperate to be thin and battling eating disorders.

Her ordeal began when she was just 13 and got her first boyfriend.

Feeling the heady rush of love and excitement typically associated with someone’s first crush, Sophie was keen to spend as much time with him as possible – and that included lunch breaks.

Previously, the teenager would sit with all her friends in their form room, happily eating and chatting. But for some reason, Sophie felt an innate sense of shame to be seen eating in front of her new boyfriend.

So she started skipping lunch. She’d still sit with her friends in her form room, just without her packed lunch astride her lap. No-one thought this was odd. But for Sophie, things escalated. She started skipping dinner, ignoring the crying pangs of hunger from her protesting stomach.

‘If I ever ate, I would punish my body afterwards,’ Sophie, now 32, explains to Metro.co.uk. ‘I could never be small enough. If I wasn’t as slim as I could possibly be, I wasn’t lovable. I really believed that.’

Sophie’s attitude followed her well into her late 20s, with huge levels of reconditioning needed for her to stop hating her body.

However, her story is far from unique, with many people (women in particular) recognising the unexplained urge to be slim when it’s not their natural body shape.

While curvier bottoms and brazilian buttlift surgery (albeit paired with a tiny waist) might have boomed in the last decade, recent conversations have done a u-turn focusind once again on ‘heroin chic’ – the extremely thin physique popularised by the models of the 1990s.

It may be easy to dismiss the language around women’s bodies as unimportant, but the impact of seeing certain body types lifted and celebrated cannot be ignored.

UK GPs have recorded a razor sharp rise of teenage girls in the UK developing eating disorders during the coronavirus pandemic, with eating disorder support charity BEAT reporting a 300% increase in calls to its helpline during that period.

However, you don’t necessarily have to look at the extreme end of disordered eating to see the impact a slimmer idealised body shape may be having on young girls and women. Research from This Girl Can found 45% of women are worried about showing their body while getting active in the summer.

Michelle Bliss has been dieting on and off over the years and found herself turning towards the weight loss drug du jour, Ozempic, after reading about its growing popularity on social media.

The medication is only available in the UK to control Type 2 diabetes, and only prescribed for those with a body mass index of 30 and over. However, it can also can be acquired fairly easily off-prescription from online pharmacies.

While it’s been rumoured that many celebrities are prolific users, others have spoken openly about trying the medication to lose or maintain weight. Tesla CEO Elon Musk has publicly said he injects the drug, while former Prime Minister Boris Johnson also confessed to using Ozempic to curb his frequent ‘cheddar and chorizo’ fridge raids.

‘I went to an online pharmacy,’ Michelle, 28, tells Metro.co.uk. ‘They asked for a BMI and a picture of myself, and it was posted to me. I was on and off it for around four months.’

Having always been quite petite as a child, as well as exhibiting eating disorder tendencies, Michelle says she noticed a change in her body after having a baby.

She had previously tried quite extreme diets to drop the pounds, including juice cleanses and one particular regime that saw her only eat six boiled eggs and a few apples a day.

‘I initially wanted to lose the mum pouch,’ she explains. ‘I put more pressure on myself as I always had a smaller frame.’

However, it’s when Michelle’s mother passed away last year that she noticed a significant change in her weight.

‘I used to be really active, eat well and go to the gym,’ she says. ‘But then I became quite sedentary. I wasn’t exercising as much. I didn’t have the motivation – I was grieving. I was staying at home and eating. In the space of three months, I went up 15kg. I had no clothes fit me. I’m two dress sizes bigger. That’s when I went on Ozempic.’

Staying on the drug was difficult though. While Michelle lost around 5kg, the medication’s side effects, which include vomiting, nausea and fatigue, made it hard for her to keep working on top of being a mother.

‘I’ve come off it now as it just didn’t work, she says. ‘It drains the life out of you.’

Michelle, who works as a personal development coach, admits that like most women she’s still after the holy grail of a quick fix to help keep the weight off – and is open to other options such as a gastric balloon. Although she wishes life wasn’t like this.

‘It’s hard to get out of the mindset that has taught us being slim equals success, acceptance and attractiveness,’ she explains.

‘We’re like sheep. If everyone around me, from celebrities to real life, were bigger then I would be happier going up a size too. But it’s the norm to just want to be like everyone else – so while the majority of us are still desperately trying to be slim, that’s not going to change. We are literally being influenced by other people in every aspect of our life, not just on social media.’

While the thin ideal may seem like it has always been the most coveted body shape, historically this hasn’t always been the case. In the 17^th and 18^th century, artists depicted the ideal woman as curvy and voluptuous, with the term Rubenesque entering the lexicon after Peter Paul Rubens’s numerous depictions of fuller-figured women.

‘Idealised body shapes have changed throughout history,’ explains counselor and psychotherapist Cate Campbell. ‘Being pale and large was once a sign that someone had enough money to eat and avoid outdoor work. Not much more than a century ago, body shape was still created by clothes (think puffy sleeves, voluminous skirts and corsets), but after World War I, when women began entering the workforce and participating in sport, clothes became less restrictive and more revealing of body shape.’

Slimness as the ‘ideal’ became increasingly popularised in the 1920s onwards, with the growing availability of mass media and marketing. According to a study published in the journal Sex Roles in 1986, the bust-to-waist ratios among women featured in the magazines Vogue and Ladies Home Journal dwindled by about 60% between 1901 and 1925.

The study reads: ‘Such findings would constitute empirical support for the hypothesis that the mass media play a role in promoting the slim standard of bodily attractiveness fashionable among women.’

While popular media has been influential in how we perceive our bodies, Cate adds there’s additional psychological pressures for women to remain petite.

‘We’re all aware that food and fashion are money spinners but, because women are still socialised to be caring and helpful to others, we feel guilt and shame about appearing to be more interested in ourselves and what’s sometimes perceived as gluttony,’ she explains.

‘In my work, I see many couples where both partners believe they should work hard at keeping in shape – and, therefore, desirable – for the other. Keeping in shape and being fit also projects an ability of control. For many people, being out of shape can mean slovenliness and lack of willpower, which is really not the case and this societal construct around body image needs to continue to be challenged.’

It’s easy to pin the blame on social media, especially as one study published in 2017 found a direct link between Instagram usage and increased symptoms of the eating disorder orthorexia nervosa. However, we’ve long been yearning to be thin way before the World Wide Web struck.

The infamous diet culture of the 80s introduced us to the cabbage soup diet andads asking if you could ‘pinch more than an inch?’, while in the 90s it was the norm for magazine covers to scream ‘drop a stone in six weeks!’ or ‘lose that belly!’

Even when we entered a new millennia, we remained under the spell of fad eating regimes, with The Special K diet being another Kellogg’s case in point – something currently being dragged by Gen Z on TikTok. Established in 2004, the cereal makers promised that women could drop a jean size in two weeks by swapping a meal with a bowl of cereal.

However, as social media arrived from just around the corner, it brought with it a viisibility never experienced before – and with that the beginnings of a newfound acceptance of differing body types.

Even so, more than a decade on from the advent of Insta, the body positivity movement is still fighting an uphill battle.

According to psychiatrist, aesthetic doctor and body specialist Dr Galyna Selezneva, the blame for many’s inescapable desire to be thin lies at the door of both Hollywood and the fashion industry, thanks to ‘decades of imprinted messages’ that skinny is sexy.

‘The most common size in the UK is a size 14 to 16. But there is still this idea that skinny is fashionable, acceptable,’ she says. ‘When the reality is just that a smaller body needs less work creating a garment.’

Howeverm Dr Selezna admits there is a deep societal misunderstanding around weight and health. ‘From a medical perspective, fat is light, muscle is heavy. If anything, we should be looking at the scales and thinking we want to increase muscle weight, to become stronger and get more functional benefits,’ she says. ‘But still we see weight increase as a negative.’

Dr Selezneva adds thatthe age-old message of ‘if you want to be a successful, career driven woman, somehow you had to be skinny’ is being perpetuated today by filters on social media.

‘Just as people want to appear to have smooth skin, they want to appear smaller,’ she says. ‘There must be a reason why a tech company has decided to make a filter to make you look thinner. Why would they even think about it? Even they are driven by this trend.’

However, Sophie Hughes believes social media can be used to encourage positivity and hope amongst its younger userbase.

Unlike the mass media of the early aughts, social media can be curated and tailored to each user’s needs. Removing more toxic body images, and replacing them with more positive role models, is something she found helped her change her attitude towards her own body.

‘We have to take responsibility,’ Sophie explains. ‘For me, social media transformed the way I see my body. It also destroyed the way I saw my body when I chose to follow smaller bodies with toned abs. But when I flipped that and unfollowed people who made me question my self-worth, and started to follow inspiring people who are so confident in themselves and took charge, my social media is positive, inspiring and diverse space.

‘It can be used for so much good for women to support and encourage each other in the body positivity space if that’s what you choose it to be.’

Sophie, who now works as a curve model, also goes into schools to speak to teenagers about developing a positive body image.

‘We’re having more conscious conversations about it. I think that’s how any change comes about,’ she continues. ‘No one came into my school and spoke about body confidence, it just wasn’t a thing. The fact we’re also seeing more diverse bodies amongst brands, even if they are accused of “box ticking”, is important. We’re slowly seeing people being represented. It may be slow, but things are changing.’

Whether the desire for the thin ideal will ever truly go away is uncertain. For Michelle, who worries about her own daughter, she hopes people will learn to love their bodies and accept what they look like regardless of size.

‘I always encourage my daughter to be accepting of her body and be happy with herself,’ she says.

Meanwhile Sophie says we should be moving towards body neutrality – simply being at peace with your appearance – in a bid to help women shake off the burden of generations of body hang-ups.

‘When I first started looking at body positivity, I thought it was about learning to love every inch of myself,’ she explains. ‘I’ve come to the point where it’s about just living a peaceful life without thinking about my body too much.

‘It’s about being in a space where I genuinely grasp that my body is the least interesting thing about me.’

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Fresh-faced and ready to explore the world, he had little on him bar the clothes on his back and a keen sense of adventure.

Costas’ travels took him to Ko Pha Ngan, Thailand – then just a remote island untouched by tourists. It was home to one small fishing family, who took the young man in for three months.

During that time, he explored the island intensely, mapping his adventure for his then girlfriend. She then shared the map with friends, who in turn, spread the word about the idyllic Ko Pha Ngan.

Fast-forward 20 years, and Costas, now a travel journalist, opened the New York Times to find a feature about the island. However, the bountiful white sands and clear blue seas were gone – instead, rubbish lay strewn across the beach, having been trampled on by hedonists looking to seek a good time at one of Ko Pha Ngan’s infamous full moon parties. 

Today, Thailand and its various island offshoots now attract on average 40million tourists a year.

Costas’ story, and many others like this, are described in new documentary, The Last Tourist. Touted as the equivalent of Al Gore’s An Inconvenient Truth for the travel industry, the film exposes the real impact of over tourism in an increasingly delicate ecosystem, and questions whether our wanderlust could be destroying the planet so many of us are desperate to explore.

It’s an innate part of human nature to travel, with the industry having been revolutionised in the 1980s; the growing number of the global middle class, paired with cheaper air travel and bargain package deals meant a holiday abroad was more easily available to greater numbers.

The internet further perpetuated this, with people looking to book a holiday being able to choose a location, flight and hotel in just a matter of clicks.

Social media has also made destinations that seemed unattainable easily accessible – we can replicate the exact holiday a travel influencer took, see the same sights and even take the same pictures thanks to geotagging and location services.

However, according to Tyson Sadler, the director of The Last Tourist, many of these tourist destinations are unprepared for such a steep increase in holidaymakers.

‘I don’t think we were adequately prepared for the impact of geotagging on delicate environments,’ he tells Metro.co.uk. ‘We are seeing the environmental degradation of tourism in fragile areas.’

Paired with the ongoing threat of climate change, Tyson explains that wildfires, like those which occurred in Greece last month, could become all the more damaging.

‘With increased human activity and overcrowded tourist destinations, they experience higher levels of foot traffic and human activity which can lead to fires – even negligent behaviours on behalf of the tourists,’ he explains.

’Some destinations lack the infrastructure to cater to large numbers of visitors which can hamper firefighting responsibilities and response times. Having over-tourism can add immense pressures on natural resources, which leads to things that impact the wildfires such as deforestation and water scarcity.’

But wildfires aren’t the only issue. With all-inclusive stays and resorts often bringing a slice of the western world to far flung countries, they also may prevent tourists from integrating and exploring the country they visit.

While it may sound harmless – and even desirable –  to be able to order Italian cuisine while in Barbados, it can have a significant impact on local surroundings.

Local produce is overlooked for foreign imports, and small shops don’t benefit from the spending power of holidaymakers. Meanwhile, locals are paid poor wages to serve huge corporations.

‘Tourism could bring huge amounts of money to local areas,’ Bruce Poon Tip, founder of the G Adventures travel company explains to Metro.co.uk. ‘But so often, travel is a one-way conversation. The locals receive no custom or benefit of having holidaymakers there.

‘Money is often siphoned off to huge corporations based abroad.

It’s certainly the case in Kenya. While around 2million tourists visit the country to take in the breath-taking sights, it’s thought only 14% of every dollar spent there stays in the country – the rest goes to foreign investors based overseas.

Even travellers with only good intentions can leave disastrous impacts on the country they visit. 

The Last Tourist observes the popularity of animal performances and elephant rides in countries such as Thailand and Cambodia, which are hugely popular with holidaymakers.

However, the documentary highlights the unspeakably cruel conditions these animals are kept in, regularly beaten and drugged into submission in order to be sedated enough to accommodate the thousands of tourists keen to see them perform.

The sharp rise of ‘voluntourism’ is also a cause for concern. Recent figures suggest around 10million people a year travel to volunteer in orphanages in developing countries.

However, the revolving door of young people looking to do good abroad can leave deep psychological scars on particularly vulnerable children, many of whom have insecure attachment styles. Children are also often asked to perform, and are often used as props for Instagram photos.

In The Last Tourist, Clarissa Elakis, Project Co-ordinator at Child Safe International, compared the rise in voluntourism as being akin to ‘zoo tourism’, and believes in some ways it is a new form of neo-colonialism fuelled by a ‘white saviour mindset.’

The popularity of voluntourism has further fed the growing orphanage industrial complex. These facilities have proven to be a lucrative business, with many volunteers expected to pay for their own travel and accommodation.

Since 2005, Cambodia has seen a 75% rise in orphanages – a direct correlation to the amount of people looking to volunteer in the country. Meanwhile, it is thought 80% of children in these facilities have at least one living parent, and are taken to these facilities for financial gain.

With the numerous problems evident in the travel industry, tourism looks to be a worrying and terrifying state of affairs. But the makers of the Last Tourist are keen to stress that their film is intended to be ultimately an optimistic look at how travel can, and should, be done.

Bruce Poon Tip’s G Adventures company – which promises a cultural immersion in a country, working with locals for a sustainable experience that benefits all – has seen a significant rise in business over the last year.

‘People want something new,’ he explains. ‘We’re 30% up on 2019 numbers now. We are seeing people staying longer in destinations and deeper in their travels, with many taking one big holiday a year and really exploring their destination. We’re hoping that trend continues.’

‘I’m cautiously optimistic,’ documentary maker Tyson Sadler agrees. ‘We’re going in the right direction, but it’s about sharing this message of being conscious and responsible. Travel will always have an impact, we can’t change that, but it’s about what we can do to reduce that impact.’

With the coronavirus crisis and the subsequent lockdowns effectively closing down the world for two years, many sustainable tourism industries were hopeful that Covid could serve as a hard reset for the travel industry.

For Bruce, who worked with other larger corporations during the lockdown, he has started to see conversations being had in boardrooms that would have otherwise been unheard of 10 years ago.

‘The COP declaration, which lots of tour operators signed up for, means there’s a huge commitment for us to do better,’ he explains. ‘I know in every board meeting in tourism, sustainability is a conversation. Unfortunately, with the industry having lost so much money in the pandemic, we need to move faster. We could be doing a hell of a lot better. But we’re taking steps in the right direction.’

For Bruce and Tyson, the only way to accelerate these changes is for tourists to demand them. Every dollar, euro or pound spent abroad is a vote on how we want travel to change.

‘When it comes to business, people don’t do things because it’s the right thing to do,’ Bruce says. ‘People do it because the customer demands it. One of the main reasons we made this film is to confront customers with the realities of tourism and get them to make the change.’

Effectively, Bruce continues, travel is a privilege, and not a right – for tourists to appreciate the world we have, we have to change our entire attitude towards our holidays.

‘There are so few people in the world with the ability to say: “I can go on my holidays,’” he explains. ‘You look at the population and the amount of people who can travel. It’s an extreme privilege to be able to do it. But with privilege comes great responsibility.

‘We have the opportunity to transform lives by going on holiday if we do it right. We have to have the mindset that it’s a community experience.

‘People used to want these luxury holidays with the comforts of home, which means the destination is no longer important because you’re bogged down with conveniences. Travel should be so much more than that.’

The Last Tourist can be streamed on Sky and Apple TV in the UK. For more information and to watch the trailer click here.

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More than a century ago, Alice, 51, stood accused of plotting to kill the Prime Minister, David Lloyd George, with a poisoned dart.

Her mugshots, taken in February 1917, and harsh 10-year prison sentence are documented in an ancient police ledger that was saved from a skip in Derby 40 years ago and is soon expected to raise around £2,000 – £3,000 at auction.

The gravity of what Alice was said to have done, in league with her daughter Winnie and son-in-law Alfred, marks her out among nearly 500 felons pictured in the historic book.

Arrested between 1890 and 1920, many of the people whose faces stare out sadly from the book were accused of petty offences like stealing a bag of soot or using bad language.

However, Alice, a suffragette who sheltered young men fleeing First World War conscription, is now widely believed to have been falsely accused – due to evidence against her likely being fabricated by an undercover MI5 agent in a bid to disgrace the anti-war movement.

A note in red ink by her name reads: ‘Discharged from HM Prison Aylesbury 30.12.17.’

After 10 months in jail, she was freed due to ill health on the instructions of Lloyd George.

Weakened by her ordeal, influenza soon killed her. The ledger baldly states: ‘Died 21.2.19.’

Explaining the significance of the book, to be included in Hansons’ Library Auction in Staffordshire on 19 October 2023, Jim Spencer, a works on paper specialist, said: ‘Alice Wheeldon is a famous name, and it’s quite surreal to see the original “mugshots” of her and her family members. For me, this makes the book of serious importance.’

Meanwhile, the unnamed seller, a 53-year-old engineer from Staffordshire, said their late father was a serving police officer when he saved the ledger.

‘The station was clearing out some garages and storerooms at an old police station on St Mary’s Gate in Derby. My father rescued it from being thrown into the skip. He thought it was too interesting to end up in landfill.’

With 500 fascinating pages featuring mugshots and crimes from a bygone age, we take a look at some of the stories captured in a moment of time.

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‘My mother and father are both addicts and alcoholics. You can imagine a child growing up around that – a house full of drugs, violence, indescribable trauma, strangers in our home off their heads,’ remembers Wayne, who shares his story under a pseudonym.

It was this combination of addiction and isolation that made the teenager a prime target for violent gangs and a victim of criminal exploitation forced to sell drugs to pay off an ongoing debt he knew he would never be able to settle.

Recalling how his life spiralled out of control, Wayne says it all started when he got his first job. ‘I was befriended by a guy. This was where the exploitation started.’

Soon the two were meeting up outside of work to smoke weed. Then one day the friend turned up at his house asking him to sell two big ounces of cannabis. Instead of selling it however, Wayne smoked the lot. ‘It was like Christmas come early,’ he admits. 

What he didn’t know at the time, was that he had been targeted by his ‘friend’, who was really part of a gang that operated in fraud and exploitation, and demanded he gave back £300 for what he’d smoked.

‘So, I started trying to sell drugs for him to pay off this money, but he’s giving me more and more drugs. I’m smoking more, so this debt’s getting higher and higher,’ recalls Wayne. 

As well as paying off his initial debt of £300, Wayne’s friend kept adding interest making the amount impossible to settle. When he couldn’t, he was driven to a secluded area where a gang of men threatened to shoot Wayne if he didn’t pay the money he owed. They also made it clear they knew where his mother lived.

Although Wayne managed to cobble together the cash owed from a friend, the gang continued to demand more – and didn’t stop for three years. In that time, Waynemoved out of the family home in a bid to keep them safe, and began living on the streets. By the time he turned up to a dry house four years later, all he had was a black bag and a coat inside of it. ‘I had no passport, no birth certificate,’ he remembers.

Although Wayne has since managed to turn his life around with the support of  a rehab programme through the dry house and is now sober and working in social care, the impact of being exploited in such a brutal manner has left its mark.

‘It’s tough. My mental health is never steady,’ he admits. ‘I live with the effects of exploitation. I live with the effect of homelessness, the trauma, and will probably be living with it for the rest of my life.’

Wayne is just one of the hundreds of people that has been helped by the anti-slavery charity Unseen over the years. Although his experience may not fit the bill of what a ‘modern slavery’ victim might look like, his experiences of exploitation at the hands of hardened criminals proves that there’s no one size fits all. 

In fact, according to Andrew Wallis, Unseen’s CEO, it’s key that people understand that exploitation can happen to anyone – traffickers have no respect for race, sex, nationality, education level, they just look for a vulnerable person.

What’s just as concerning is that last year was the busiest year for the charity’s helpline, which operates 24/7 and 365 days a year, with an 116% increase from the previous year in calls about potential victims and a shocking 70% rise in modern slavery cases being reported. 

‘Over the seven years for which the helpline has been running, there has been a steady increase,’ explains Andrew, although he’s keen to stress that this is not just down to a rising number of victims, it’s also due to better understanding of the issue. ‘2022 saw people coming out of the pandemic, there is more awareness of our helpline,’ he says.

Andrew also believes that this is also due to the trust victims have in the charity, saying that Unseen are ‘the only national helpline of scale around the globe that doesn’t receive government funding.’ Which means that victims may feel a confidence that their data won’t be shared with immigration officials or other officials. 

‘That level of confidentiality and safety is absolutely key for victims,’ he says.

However, that doesn’t mean the charity works under a veil of secrecy. In fact, they often share the stories of those they have helped, such as Wayne, albeit anonymously, so victims feel secure that they can’t be tracked down by their abusers. 

‘We want to highlight how easy it is to be trafficked,’ Andrew tells Metro.co.uk. ‘A reason why victims want to speak about their experiences is that they don’t want others to go through what they have. It also reinforces the deception phase of recruitment and shows that anyone can be trafficked and be a victim of modern slavery.

‘The range of emotions that victims go through vary on a case-by-case basis,’ adds Andrew. 

Some have just been pulled out by the police and are turning up to Unseen literally with their worldly possessions or just the clothes that the police have given to them, he explains. While others come through a local authority such as Unseen or the Salvation Army and are referred via the national referral mechanism.

‘Victims can feel guilt, anger, or even feel stupid for putting themselves in that situation,’ he explains. ‘I remember one client telling us they were told by their exploiters: “You amount to nothing, if you step out of line, we will just kill you and toss your body. No one will find you; you are worthless.”

‘Traffickers think of their victim as valuable while they are making money for them. In essence, it is an economic crime, it is all about making money with horrendous human rights outcomes.’

Another story shared on Unseen’s website is that of Priscilla, a victim of modern slavery, who was abused for years and forced to live in hellish conditions.

Orphaned at a young age when she was living in South Africa, she was sent to live with her grandmother nearby who had very little money, and couldn’t afford to send her to school.

Instead, the little girl stayed at home and helped out with chores. One day Priscilla – who also goes by a pseudonym – was told by her grandmother that she had found her work in the UK, and gave her a passport and airline tickets. 

However, instead of living the life she dreamed she might have in England, the young girl found herself trapped in a private family house, treated as a slave, and made to feel worthless constantly for years. 

Although Priscilla doesn’t detail what she was forced to go through, there have been countless cases of young women being trafficked to the UK and kept virtual prisoners, having to endlessly cook and clean for families, while receiving no wages or time off. Some have even been expected to have sex as part of their job. 

Priscilla reveals that although she eventually managed to escape ,with nowhere to go, she was forced to live on the streets. As her mental health declined, she was eventually found by the authori and sectioned. 

It was while she was recovering in hospital that Priscilla was put in touch with Unseen, and eventually released to one of their safe houses. There, she received support to help with her trauma and took part in music therapy, cooking and nutrition classes. 

‘I have seen changes in my life,’ she says. ‘I was unable to make decisions for myself before. Now I make my own decisions. I’m happy that I can do things by myself.’ 

With an estimated 100,000 – 130,000 victims of modern slavery in the UK right now, Andrew believes far more needs to be done to tackle the issue. 

‘It doesn’t sit on the national threat assessment level at which it should,’ he says. ‘There is an issue of funding, a lack of training and awareness on the matter. I cannot say that every police officer knows what modern slavery is, how to identify it and deal with it or that every agency understands what modern slavery and knows how to report on it. We are nowhere near that.’

He adds that it’s not just the police who need better training either – local government and NHS staff could also benefit. 

Asked whether the Ukraine War has had an impact on these numbers, Andrew admits it’s undeniable. ‘Four and a half million women and children fleeing… There are traffickers at the border, and we are also finding people across the borders and in the UK already,’ he says.

Speaking about what he would want to see happen going forward with preventing modern slavery and exploitation, Andrew explains there are several changes that need to be made. ‘One is that we need to upgrade legislation in the UK. The government promised two years ago to bring forward the modern slavery legislation and they still haven’t done this,’ he says. 

‘Secondly, I want to see manifesto commitments from every party that they will bring forward this legislation. Thirdly, upgrade the transparency and supply piece within the legislation so companies have to report all incidents of modern slavery and explain if there is none.’

Andrew also says that the government already has the tools to make things better, pointing out that the Modern Slavery Act 2015, Section 54 states: ‘the home secretary can take any company to court who hasn’t produced a modern slavery report.’  

However, he adds, there have been thousands of companies who haven’t produced a Modern Slavery Statement but not one home secretary has taken anyone to court. ‘This is a local, national, and global problem – but there is only around 1% successful prosecutions of crimes related to modern slavery.’

However, there is a chink of hope. Unseen believe that by sharing the harrowing stories of those who have experienced exploitation, the more it will be uncovered.

After all, Andrew points out, a quarter of calls to the helpline come from victims, which means the rest – and the resulting increase in calls – are from people coming forward to report a form of slavery or exploitation. 

‘The more you look for exploitation, the more you find it,’ he says. 

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‘It’s exhausting – and terrible for your mental health.’ 

As one of the performers taking part in this year’s Manchester Pride, Reeta is shedding light on the reality of belonging to both LGBTQ+ and Asian communities. 

‘You’d never see Asians in queer spaces because those spaces didn’t feel safe for us. Meanwhile, we couldn’t be ourselves in Asian spaces either,’ they add. ‘I remember when we could never fully be ourselves anywhere.’ 

Reeta, who performs under the name of RAIN and also works as a producer and poet, tells Metro.co.uk that it was after losing their family when they came out, that inspired them to help others in similar situations. 

‘Unfortunately, loss of family and culture is still common in our community and something we live in fear of,’ Reeta explains. ‘If we do lose family or choose to leave, like I did, it can become a very isolating experience.’ 

In 2017, 10 years after coming out to their family – and 21 years after coming out to themselves – Reeta founded Gaysians, a volunteer-led movement to connect queer Asians, increase positive media visibility and improve access to support services.  

‘We’ve come a long way since we didn’t see versions of ourselves in the media or nightlife or on the street. We’re more visible now and I’m immensely proud,’ says Reeta.  

‘As recently as a decade ago you didn’t see queer South Asians on screen or in clubs. We’ve worked extremely hard to mainstream our narratives and it’s incredible seeing where we are today, whether that’s performing at Glastonbury, writing for TV, or starring in TV soaps and Marvel films.

‘I’m a shop kid’, Reeta continues. ‘From the age of six I was working at the till and later delivering newspapers. I can only imagine how differently life would have turned out for me and my family if we’d seen positive representations of queer south Asians in the papers back then. Every one of us matters and I want us all to know that and really believe it.’ 

RAIN is just one of the star turns at Manchester Pride later this month, as part of the event’s Queer Asian Takeover, curated and hosted by iconic drag queen Lucky Roy Singh. 

Manchester-based Lucky – who cites Indian-British model Neelam Kaur Gill among their style influences – is house mother to the House of Spice, an collective of performers of Asian, Middle Eastern and North African heritage. 

As the driving force behind this year’s Queer Asian Takeover, they explain: ‘The idea was formed out of a community session held with Manchester Pride and [artistic director of dance collective Ghetto Fabulous and founder of Black Pride Manchester] Darren Pritchard. 

‘It’s the first of its kind,’ adds Lucky. 

‘We don’t have enough people like me in queer spaces. Drag [show] line-ups are often all-white, particularly in cabaret. There’s almost no intersectionality or accountability from bookers or many of the booked artists involved. That’s what makes this event so important and historic. Other Prides should take note.’ 

The Queer Asian Takeover has been co-curated with local activities and performers like Singh, and will centre queer Asian joy, showcasing over 22 performers and collectives, including Val The Brown Queen, Gracie T, Club Zindagi and headliner DJ Gok Wan. 

Celebrating and elevating the art, experiences and stories of marginalised queer people feels more crucial than ever, to help combat the very real discrimination the community continues to face both in the UK and abroad. 

In 2022, the UK saw a 41% increase in anti-LGB hate crimes, and a 56% rise in transphobic hate crimes. Meanwhile, queer people of colour often facing dual discrimination, with over half having experienced racism within the LGBT community. 

This is what has led many community leaders, performers and activists to begin carving out their own spaces. 

‘My favourite singer is Leslie Cheung, an incredible Hong Kong pop singer, who sadly took his own life after being rejected for his sexuality and gender expression,’ singer-songwriter and model Jason Kwan tells Metro.co.uk. 

‘I was just a child when I saw the news [of Leslie’s death] on TV, but also knew I was queer and wanted to sing. That’s what pushed me to apply for a music scholarship and hardship fund and move to the UK when I was a teenager.’

Desperate to avoid the queerphobia Leslie Cheung face, Jason left Hong Kong as a teen, however he was sadly met with a different type of discrimination when first arriving in the UK. 

‘In Hong Kong, I’d never experienced racism as a minority, but when I arrived in the UK, people didn’t like me talking about being Asian’, says Jason. 

‘They didn’t like me singing in Chinese’ and my culture was parodied or appropriated, which made me want to hide my Asianness.’ 

Today, Jason is co-director of The Bitten Peach, the UK’s first queer pan-Asian and gender diverse cabaret collective, who closed the Manchester Pride Cabaret Stage in 2022.  

Since launching in 2019, it has hosted over 70 shows, platforming over 70 artists and selling over 3000 tickets. 

‘The Bitten Peach was my debut into London’s queer scene’, remembers Jason. “Before that, I was in straight bars in Camden singing covers for hardly any money.’ 

The collective also supports budding performers within the queer Asian community. 

‘We connect people to mentors and help them speak to people of similar experiences’, Jason continues.  

‘Our research found that the biggest barrier to entering the arts for young east and southeast Asians is their parents not wanting them to’. 

Although, family can play a large part in queer art and performance, often central to the stories we see on screen and stage, for example in the run-up to coming out or the aftermath of it.  

Reeta explains: ‘I’ve realised that the reason I lost my family was so I could heal and find happiness. My show [The Remedy] is about this journey.’ 

‘I’ve more recently been reconnecting with my family of origin. In fact, my father reached out to me for the first time in 15 years while I was touring the show. I realised this meant I would need to adapt its ending.’ 

‘I was obviously overjoyed to hear from my dad! But I also have had to reconcile a lot of complex emotions”, Loi reflects. Overall, I’m glad we have a chance to be in each other’s lives again and support each other. I’ve missed him more than words can say.’ 

Reeta, who is now transitioning to the name of RAIN, recently came out as non-binary. 

‘Our stories and experiences, just like our identities, have fluidity,’ they explain. Reeta will always be a part of mine, but at 45 I’m incredibly excited to start a new one with RAIN.’ 

Similarly, Lucky cites the familial influence of their work, and how this has been received from family members since. 

‘My style is very East meets West. It’s Bollywood, Indian, glamour and diamonds,’ Lucky tells Metro.co.uk.  

‘I took inspiration from watching the women and fabrics around me, bringing both [British and Indian] parts of my identity together. 

‘In 2021 I did a show for Trans Vegas [the UK’s largest festival celebrating trans artists] about watching my mum get dressed and ready in the morning, and how the fabrics made her feel’, they say. 

‘That’s the style my performances often take. Holding a mirror up to women like the ones I grew up around, showing them their fierceness and power’, Lucky continues.  

‘I’ve had female family members come to see my drag and they watch it in awe, because they see it’s inspired by their beauty.’ 

Meanwhile, Jason adds, ‘My mum flew from Hong Kong for The Bitten Peach’s first Udderbelly show [which took place on London’s Southbank]. She’d never watched anything like it and I’m probably the only openly queer person she knows. And she loved it. 

‘I do think how she received it was helped by its mainstream environment, in a Spiegel tent with lots of straight, white and middle-class audience members. I think for her it was important to see me being celebrated by people outside of my community, and in the majority, as this was a clearer marker that I was safe and accepted.’ 

While representation has started to improve in queer performance arts, thanks to work by groups like Gaysians, House of Spice and The Bitten Peach, the discrimination faced by queer people of colour remains very real. 

‘Canal Street continues to be rife with racism’, says Lucky Roy Singh, whose petition ‘End Racism In Manchester’s Gay Village’ has garnered almost 900 responses. 

‘I’ve experienced this in various forms throughout my life’, they continue, ‘and it urgently needs addressing’. 

This doesn’t just include members of the public but staffing too. 

‘We’ve seen and experienced racist door staff and, despite reporting it to venues’ management, hear nothing back. Is it a lack of education on inclusion issues, or a deliberate refusal to be educated on them?’ 

Education has formed a large part of Lucky Roy Singh’s activism, in particular on honour-based violence, which they themselves experienced in their 20s. 

‘I was failed by police, hospitals and victim support groups. Since therapy, I’ve campaigned to make honour-based violence recognised as a specific form of abuse, rather than just a cultural issue.’, Lucky says. 

‘I’ve trained 98 police officers, including Scotland Yard and Greater Manchester Police. I share my story with them, and the signs that previous officers had missed and failed to act on.’  

‘The training started as compulsory but has since been made mandatory, which I think is a great thing. Education is so important.’ 

So at a time where education and solidarity is more important than ever, what does allyship to queer Asians look like? 

‘It’s important to understand that ‘coming out’ most likely won’t look the same for many queer Asians [as it will other queer people]. It often takes longer for us to access our identity for ourselves’ says Reeta.  

‘Be sensitive and kind and don’t ask questions like “do your family know?” or “are they religious?” as these questions can trigger painful memories or cause anxiety’, they continue. 

‘Instead, offer us company, in particular during times of the year that can be tough, like Mother’s Day and Father’s Day, family events such as weddings or religious festivals. I wish my friends had offered to take me to [queer Asian club night] Club Kali when I was struggling, as seeing other people like me would have made a huge difference to the isolation I was experiencing.’ 

For those outside of the community, a big part of allyship is supporting the art. 

‘Around 60% of our audiences are white, and they’re great allies. They love learning, taking part and having fun with us’, Jason explains.  

While Lucky says, ‘Support Asian artists. Acknowledge our art and our fashion and where it comes from. I want people to know that they can embrace it, but with respect and while knowing what it means.’

And that can start with attending and supporting this year’s Queer Asian Takeover at Manchester Pride, they add. ‘It’s going to be fierce and fun. Expect an infusion of celebration, colour, spice, fashion and culture… What more could you ask for?’

For more information about this year’s Manchester Pride, click here.

Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing jess.austin@metro.co.uk. 

Share your views in the comments below.

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Distressing scenes are unfolding in the east where resurgent violence between non-state armed groups and government forces reverberate.

A shocking 2.8million people have been displaced across those provinces since March 2022. Among a litany of humanitarian law and human rights violations, civilians are being killed and tortured, while arbitrary arrests, looting of health centres and civilian homes, and the destruction of schools have been reported. 

Photographer Hugh Kinsella Cunningham has been covering the conflict in eastern DRC for the last five years, travelling the country to bear witness to the devastating impact of war on children’s lives.

‘As the Democratic Republic of Congo is experiencing one of the most damaging conflicts in the world, these photographs convey the realities of life for civilians on the edge of existence,’ says Hugh, who has been working with Save The Children to document the crisis.

‘Families here are suffering in many different ways. In one province, humanitarians may be reacting to a displacement crisis, and in another region, dealing with malnutrition and disease. As a photojournalist, relating the experiences and emotions of individuals within this huge context is critical.’

To donate to Save The Children, click here.

*Names have been changed

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Even so, she says she has been left with a lifetime of treasured memories, thanks to the impact the legendary artist had on her growing up.

‘My mom was the enforcer – you have parents who are like that,’ Cedella, now 55, tells Metro.co.uk.

‘One is the enforcer and the other one just spoils you rotten. Any time she would scold us he would come home and he would see us looking like we were scolded, and be like “Come, let’s come get some ice cream.”

‘He was that dad that would come in after you’ve done something wrong and make you think it wasn’t that bad. “Let’s go get some hamburgers and some ice cream and then you’ll be okay.” Those are some of my favourite memories because when Daddy passed I was only 13 years old. It’s not a lot of those memories I have, so the ones we do have I cherish.’

Over the years Cedella has since worked hard to continue her father’s legacy and is now set to release a new album of Bob Marley & The Wailers songs 40 years after his death.

As a musician and author, Cedella is the eldest biological child of the legendary artist, and says she hopes new record Africa Unite will help bring his voice and message to younger generations.

However, Cedella adds, growing up the daughter of Bob Marley wasn’t easy in Jamaica, where he was ‘not popular or well-liked’.

‘Having the Marley name was like “Oh lord, not them not these dirty Rastas,”‘ she recalls.

‘That’s what it was like growing up in Jamaica. I had friends who, if they wanted to spend the weekend with me, would have to tell their parents they were going to Jackie’s house because their parents wouldn’t allow them to come to my house.

‘Which was weird, because I thought my house was cooler than theirs. I’m not saying their fathers were stumbling drunks or whatever, but my father wasn’t at home just smoking herb and strumming his guitar. He was a good father, and my mother was a remarkable mother. So having that name in Jamaica did not open doors, did not give you any favours. And that’s good for us, because we had to work harder.’

Even as time passed and Marley’s influence and legacy grew – being just as strong today 40 years after his death – Cedella and his other children were never offered any special treatment and were far from today’s so-called ‘nepo babies’.

‘The name changed but we didn’t. We are still the same overachievers, the same people we were back then,’ she explains.

‘Some things that happen to you in childhood you never forget. You don’t forget how people treated you or your parents. My mom was shot in her head, they tried to kill my father. It’s things like those that you remember, you remember the people who did it – and why they wanted to do it.

‘It’s like they try and kill your parents because they sing about peace, love and unity. Who does that? Really and truly, who does that? So that’s the lineage we come from.

‘We were never born with a golden spoon, we all had to accomplish what we had to accomplish on our own. And yeah we were born with that name, but we didn’t choose it. We’re never gonna deny who we are to please anyone. A lot of people are going to have to get over that stuff.’

Marley was just 36 years old when he died, but to say he lived a lot in his short years would be an understatement, and fans will get a glimpse into his life in upcoming biopic One Love.

The film, starring Kingsley Ben-Adir as Marley and Lashana Lynch his wife Rita, was shot on location in Jamaica and London, and explores the singer’s time in the UK capital where he wrote acclaimed album Exodus.

Cedella was present for much of the filming, and admits it was ‘bittersweet’ and at times ‘difficult’ to see parts of her parents’ lives laid out that she wasn’t there for.

‘Honestly speaking, it was hard. Because you’re watching your parents’ life being told in front of you. I wasn’t on the road with Daddy so to see some of the experiences on the road in front of you, to see some of his life was difficult to sit there and watch day after day,’ she explains.

‘But it was also therapeutic. I’m grown-grown now, and they were so young. I think when Daddy went to London he was like late twenties, early thirties, and now I’m in my fifties.

‘It was bittersweet, but my parents were very young going through a lot of things… I think we take our life for granted sometimes.’

Even stranger were the moments she did remember, admits Cedella. One scene in the film sees her mother Rita, in Jamaica with the children, on the phone to the War singer who is over 4000 miles away in London, and asking “don’t you miss thie children? When are you coming back? The children miss you…”

‘I remember that phone call vividly. I can still see it. So to be able to watch their lives unfold in front of me was very educational and touching – and emotional. It was a lot of things, but I was happy I was there to experience it.’

Cedella says that she feels ‘grateful’ to be able to ‘see the struggle but also see the redemption’ in the film, and is especially ‘grateful I was born to these two, to Bob and Rita.’

‘I couldn’t have asked for better parents,’ she adds. ‘And if what they say is true, a spirit of a child chooses who their parents are gonna be, I think I chose well.’

It’s her love and respect for her parents and their work to unify people, that led Cedella to work on new album Africa Unite, which sees modern African artists take on iconic Bob Marley & The Wailers tracks in a unique posthumous collaboration with the legendary musician.

One track, Them Belly Full (But We Hungry) even features his grandson, Cedella’s son Skip Marley, along with Rema with other artists including Tiwa Savage, Ami Faku, Teni, Oxlade, Arya Starr and more.

It would have been ‘very important to Daddy to be able to reach those young African artists and collab with them,’ Cedella says.

‘The album showcases the importance of Daddy in today’s Africa. I think he would have loved and be proud of what we have.’

Marley was famed for encouraging peace, love and unity through his music, howeverCedella says that in the last few decades ‘not much has changed.’

She adds: ‘In some instances, it’s gotten worse. I’m sitting where I am, you’re sitting where you are, but there are wars happening in the world.

‘Daddy has always been a voice for the voiceless. This would have troubled him.’

Africa Unite is ‘reaching out to a generation’ who may not have heard Marley’s message, which is why they secured ‘some of the top performers out of Africa… to have a track with Daddy, we’re going to engage those listeners,’ explains Cedella.

‘We’re bringing the message to that generation now. It’s just amazing we can use the voice of the youth and the voice of Daddy, bring them together, and the music will speak for itself.

‘And I think we’re going to get a beautiful response.’

Africa Unite is available to stream and buy now.

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After visiting the gym every day, his muscles would bulge from his clothes, and strangers would comment on his body-builder physique.

‘I was almost as wide as I was tall’, remembers the 28-year-old.

Externally, Jack appeared to be in tip-top physical condition, but on the inside he was falling apart. He would lose his breath climbing the stairs, his blood pressure was ‘through the roof’ and he would cry at the drop of a hat. He also lost his libido.

It was the culmination of years of steroid abuse that could have gravely jeopardised his health.

Jack, a joiner from Hull, was 19 when he started taking anabolic steroids – both orally and with needles – in a bid to beef up. Within a couple of months he was addicted.

Anabolic steroids are class C drugs, which are legal to use, but illegal to sell. They increase muscle mass and improve athletic performance – but they come with a catalogue of health risks.

According to the UK Anti-Doping Agency, there are around one million regular UK steroid users and the most common demographic for the onset of Image and Performance Enhancing Drugs (IPED) use is 20-24 year-old males.

So worried about the rise in usage among Gen Z, in 2020 the organisation launched a digital campaign across social media to highlight the side effects and risks.

And worryingly, an increasing amount of people – mostly young boys – are becoming hooked on steroids.

Experts at Priory mental health services estimate around 500,000 people are addicted on the physique enhancers, with social media and reality TV thought to be major contributors for men seeking an unrealistic body image.

It’s an issue that’s now being profiled on Coronation Street, with acid attack victim Ryan Connor turning to injecting steroids to help with his confidence.

‘I started taking them mainly from insecurity,’ Jack recalls. ‘I was always a small child, quite skinny, and I felt like I couldn’t be a protector. I got bullied quite a bit, so I just wanted to be big.’

IPEDs are sometimes used in patterns called ‘cycling’, which involves taking multiple doses of steroids over a specific period of time, stopping for a period, and starting again. The idea is that this wards off some of the side effects, which can include shrunken testicles, erectile dysfunction, gynaecomastia (swollen breast tissue) and hair loss, among others.

In 2016, Made in Chelsea star Spencer Matthews admitted that he took steroids to improve his appearance, adding that it was ‘one of the biggest mistakes’ of his life.

Meanwhile, shows like Love Island have also been blamed for putting pressure on young men to bulk up. Last year, contestant Tom Powell, who had previously revealed that he is addicted to steroids and has no plans to kick them, had to have breast reduction surgery after suffering from gynecomastia.

Jack tells Metro.co.uk that his addiction saw him taking steroids every day for a whole year.

He describes how the cycles would begin with a period of euphoria, ‘where you’re on cloud nine’, he says, but after a month or so, users experience a dip. 

‘Your mood starts to change. You get mild irritation. But the longer the cycle goes on, the worse your mood gets,’ Jack explains. ‘More often than not, people don’t want to come off, because you get physically smaller.

‘Then you start getting horrific mood swings. I started crying once at an advert. Another time, I physically started crying from anger walking from my car to my house because it was raining and I didn’t want to get wet. It’s embarrassing. That’s not normal behaviour.

‘I knew it was because of the steroids, but by that point I was in too deep.’

Jack recalls how the drugs – which cost between £250 and £500 for a full cycle – consumed his whole life. ‘You always want more,’ he says. ‘I would think: “When I get up to 13 stone I’ll be happy. Or if my arms are a certain number of inches, I’ll be happy.” But you get there and you just want more and more. You’re just constantly chasing something that never arrives. It completely destroys your life.’

Alongside ‘roid rage’, steroids can cause other distressing psychological effects, including manic behaviour, paranoia, hallucinations and delusions.

However, for Jack, it was mainly aggression. He started getting in tussles when he was out drinking and would find himself in the back of a police van a few times. He says his muscle-man appearance often enticed others to take him on.

He recalls: ‘I would get in fights. People would heckle and make comments, Sometimes I could just let it go, and other times I would just snap.

‘I was walking round Asda once and I heard a couple go: “Err. That’s disgusting.” I looked around, thinking they’d be talking about someone else, and they were talking about the way I looked. But I would almost feed off that stuff, sometimes. It would make me want to get bigger, to be freakishly big.

‘It sounds strange, but looking back on photos, I looked pretty big. But at the time, I didn’t think I was, even when people told me. I still thought I was tiny. It’s crazy.’

Jack’s loved ones were affected, too. He would prioritise going to the gym and steroid use over girlfriends, and his relationships would end abruptly. He admits he was irascible with his family.

‘I was always snappy. I am ashamed to say I made my grandma cry,’ he remembers. ‘I love her so much, and I made her cry, after she gave me the wrong sandwich or something. I just snapped. Steroids just turn you into a horrible, horrible person.’

And Jack was exhausted. The strain he was putting on his body and his heart left him with crippling fatigue and a habit that cost him around £1,500 a year.

Eventually, his family convinced him to get help. He saw the doctor and got counselling. He was supported by The Juice Bar – a free and confidential service offering advice on anabolic steroids and other injectable drugs – through weekly sessions and telephone advice, that went on for over a year.

‘Even after this time, I still wanted to use because I hated getting smaller,’ admits Jack. ‘The psychological pull of steroids is very strong.’

However, he says, the The Juice Bar has helped him turn his life around.

‘I am so grateful to the team for their support,’ says Jack. ‘I have continued with my gym training throughout my recovery and although my size has reduced, I feel fitter and healthier than ever before.’

Paul Martindale who manages the project, says Jack’s experience is common.

‘IPED users often become fixated on their appearance and feel that bigger is never enough,’ he explains. ‘Many individuals believe these drugs are supporting a healthy lifestyle and with little official help and support, often turn to the internet for advice, which does not always prove to be accurate.

‘It can be difficult for users of IPEDS to access services so we have developed tools to reach out including Live Chat allowing people to ask questions anonymously using instant messaging. Two nights each week we are available online to take live enquiries and we also field offline messages at other times too.’

Paul also encourages users to access a needle exchange, to keep them safe from blood borne viruses.

Steroids are now ‘rife’ in Hull, Jack says, which he sees as a sad reflection of the pressure on young men to look a certain way.

While the short term effects can be bad enough, the long term health risks are more frightening, according to Dr Monika Wassermann who has worked with patients who have used IPEDs. 

‘Prolonged use of steroids poisons your liver. The result? Liver damage,’ she explains. ‘Pairing steroids with resistance exercise will boost your muscle size. But it also heightens the risk of heart disease.

‘Additionally, steroids reduce the production and release of the testosterone hormone. The consequences of this include low testosterone hormone levels and sperm count, with a good chance that you will be infertile.’

Users also risk infections or cysts in the injection site, as well as an increased risk of prostate cancer, heart attack and kidney failure.

In the most extreme cases, steroids can be lethal. Teenage bodybuilder Andrej Gajdos died in 2015 when his heart burst. Four different types of steroids were found in the 19-year-old’s flat in Weston-Super-Mare after his death.

Jamie Goldie, a 21-year-old bouncer, model and body coach is well aware of these health risks, but takes steroids anyway.

He estimates that around half of the people at his gym use IPEDs, but says the only reason he takes them is because he enters bodybuilding competitions, where, he believes, the vast majority of competitors have used some sort of performance enhancing drug.

‘Would you sit a maths test if everyone had the answers but you?’ he argues, adding that he only takes a very low dose of the drug and wouldn’t do it if he wasn’t competing.

‘Some people are stupid about it nowadays, taking stupid amounts,’ he says. ‘I get messages from 16, 17, 18-year old guys, asking where they can get steroids. I tell them: “Just don’t do it. You’re too young. All you need to do is concentrate on eating enough food, training properly, going to the gym and sleeping enough.”

‘My view is if you’ve not got a reason to take it, don’t touch it at all. If you’re taking it purely to the biggest guy in the room, you’re a d***head. Plain and simple. 

‘I take it purely because I want to be professional and compete at the top level,’ adds Jamie. ‘But if you’re the guy that’s taking them because they’re going on holiday; you’re putting your health at risk, you’re putting your friends at risk, you’re putting your family at risk. For what? To look good at Ibiza for a week? It’s stupid, it’s irresponsible and you have no reason to take it. It’s purely for ego.’

Ruth Micallef, an eating disorders counsellor, says many of her clients turned to steroids in response to trauma, or bullying, and that they are suffering from ‘muscle dysmorphia’, a condition caused by the delusional or exaggerated belief is that one’s own body is too small or too skinny. This has also been termed ‘bigorexia’ or ‘reverse anorexia’.

‘Rather than getting the support or help they need, people are being praised for their way of unhealthy coping, only encouraging them to do it more,’ she explains. 

‘Use of steroids can make users angry, withdrawn, and even violent. It can push users away from their loved ones, and the restrictive diets and excessive time in gym settings only exacerbate the problem.

‘If a loved one is using steroids for muscle gain, it is worth asking, why are they trying to “protect” themselves by looking this way? Many registered professionals like myself work with conditions like muscle dysmorphia, and recovery is absolutely possible.’

Tyrone Brennand trained extremely hard in his twenties to become a bodybuilder. He tried to gain as much muscle as possible through eating, protein shakes and lifting weights and came under immense pressure from people at the gym to try steroids. 

‘I remember as a young guy starting to really think about competing in bodybuilding – but you know as someone who isn’t taking steroids you are at disadvantage because of those that do,’ explains the 36-year-old celebrity PT from Chelsea, founder of Be The Fittest. 

‘It’s hard to say “no” and turn your back on a world you’ve invested thousands of hours in, to look a certain way and gain the respect of others around you.

I watched friends and other guys become addicted to steroids and I knew it was a slippery slope. You will never be big enough; you can always push a bit further was the mentality. It’s toxic. I had friends who were in bad cycles, and they couldn’t look at themselves in the mirror after stopping taking steroids. The trade off is never worth it.’ 

Tyrone recalls that he was offered steroids in the gym a number of times. ‘They really tried to pressure you to take them,’ he remembers. ‘But I knew someone who had mad heart problems as a result of using steroids, and the one guy who offered it to me on a few occasions said “he just took bad stuff, don’t worry”.

‘This guy was a huge, muscly guy in my gym. Bulging veins and what body builders would describe as an incredible physique. I was tempted, but I concluded that my health and fitness were paramount. Taking steroids to look better is so counterintuitive.’

‘I don’t regret that decision for a moment, because I don’t know how the steroids could have affected me,’ adds Tyrone. ‘You’re seeing young people taking steroids and having heart attacks and dying. I don’t regret not being one of them. And I’m much more content with how I exercise and my fitness goals now than I was as a young man.’

When Jack now reflects on his steroid usage, he admits he feels lucky that he didn’t do more damage to his health and that he has shaken the habit for good.

‘It’s like any addiction, alcohol, drugs – you’re always in recovery, constantly, for the rest of your life,’ he admits. ‘But I’m miles better now that I’m off it.

‘Towards the end, I ran horrific cycles that were really bad for the body. I was on it constantly, for a full year, which is so stupid. I look back and think I am lucky to be a functioning healthy adult with prospects of having a child. 

‘All I’ve ever wanted to do is be a dad and I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I couldn’t get my girlfriend pregnant.

‘I know lads that will never take steroids again, but now they have to take viagra every time. My libido has bounced back after two and a half years. But they are stuck on viagra for the rest of their lives.

‘Once you’ve taken that plunge with steroids, even one cycle can mess you up physically for the rest of the life,’ adds Jack. 

‘People don’t think of the negatives. They just hear that they’ll get bigger. And they do; but at what cost?’

Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing Claie.Wilson@metro.co.uk 

Share your views in the comments below.

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The Year 12 A-level drama and acting diploma students created it as part of their intergenerational oral history project, calling it Who Cares?, interviewing residents from six different care homes about their lives post-pandemic.

The result is 12 illuminating audio portraits that weave together life experiences, music and reflections from family, carers or friends and can be listened to as podcasts on Spotify and Apple.

Behind the project, which has been stored for posterity in the Bishopsgate Institute’s oral history archive and the archive of the Wandsworth Heritage Service, is Tooting Arts Club, a community that celebrates the dramatic arts in South London.

‘We have been delighted and amazed by the incredible breadth of memories shared by our participants,’ Rachel Edwards, director of Tooting Arts Club, tells Metro.co.uk.

‘Fleeing India during Partition, growing up in a coal mining family and witnessing the Battle of Cable Street at nine years old – the people whose life stories we are proud to represent have generously shared a fascinating and diverse range of experiences.’

Here, we take a peak into some of the stories shared and meet the people behind them.

For more information about Who Cares? click here.

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Crowds of them, armed with timers, come together to compete. Governed by strict rules, they are smart, focused and quick as lightning.

Known as speedcubers, they are living out a postmodern Rubik’s renaissance.

Membership of the World Cubing Association (WCA) has shot through the roof in recent years; it has seen a 500% increase in the last decade.

Last year, more than 26,000 signed up to the WCA, compared with 4,300 in 2012, and the body has seen more than 100,000 race each other in competitions all over the globe.

So how did the humble toy, which was born in the 70s, see such a recent surge in popularity?

Lockdown was a catalyst, says cubing champion George Scholey, who can solve a Rubik’s in an incredible 5.72 seconds.

The 21-year-old from London spent two years as the UK’s fastest cuber – before his cubing crown was snatched by a 12-year-old in 2021.

‘People have been speed solving for years, but recently popularity has really grown. I think a lot of that is due to lockdown when people were at home with little to do and genuinely just getting bored with their phones,’ he explains. ‘Pretty much everyone has a Rubik’s Cube lying around in their house. Plus – everything is out there online on how to solve it. It’s super accessible.’

George first learnt how to solve a cube from YouTube in 2015. Since then he is the world record holder for the most cubes solved on a skateboard (500) and the most cubes solved in 24 hours (6,931).

He started off practicing for six hours a day, but getting a degree put a stop to that, and now graduated, he is a Rubik’s ambassador.

‘Cubing has grown exponentially in popularity and there are now competitions every week,’ he says. ‘There are so many organisers, delegates and enough competitors to justify that. It’s exploding, which is amazing for me to see. But it’s intimidating. People are getting a lot faster.’

In fact, the fastest known cuber is currently American Max Park, 21, who solved the 3x3x3 puzzle in an astonishing 3.13 seconds in June.

Max was one of the stars of the Netflix film ‘The Speed Cubers’, a moving documentary that showed how the autistic youngster couldn’t use his hands due to poor motor skills as a small child.

Max discovered cubing, aced it, now wins competitions around the world and has become part of a loving and accepting community.

George adds: ‘I cannot emphasise enough how welcoming the cubing community is. Truly there’s nothing like it. You get quite a lot of neuro-atypical kids there and that’s great.

‘You have a lot of unconventional personalities and no-one bats an eyelid. You’re free to express yourself however you like. It’s really accepting. But also, we’re not competing against each other. We’re competing against ourselves. And that’s the mentality.’

While Rubik’s are the best known of the cubes, there are a number of other makes, including Gan, Nexcube and MoYu, among others.

And while we all recognise the 3x3x3 cube, competitors also race to solve the 2×2, the Square-1, the Megaminx, Pyraminx and Skewb as well as other so-called ‘twisty puzzles’. 

American YouTuber Shawn Boucké tells Metro.co.uk that he has seen a surge in popularity over the past five years.

The musician and teacher from Michigan set up a YouTube channel and website to help other cubers after he fell in love with cubing nine years ago.

‘The 40th anniversary in 2020 brought it back into people’s consciousness,’ he explains ‘In 2015, Rubik’s updated their cube, which made it more enjoyable to turn and more durable. And prominent YouTubers like myself brought the community into a more accessible venue.’

At one point 30-year-old Shawn owned over 800 cubes, but gave many away in a charity drive.

‘Cubing is a great way to develop spatial reasoning, logical thinking, and problem-solving skills,’ he adds. ‘It can improve cognitive abilities such as visual perception, spatial awareness, and critical thinking. It also helps develop patience, perseverance, and the ability to break down complex problems into smaller, manageable steps.

‘Socially it is an activity that people come together often and has a built community of all ages. I enjoy it. It’s meditative, and also has brought many of my closest friends into my life.’

The history of the Cube

The world’s most famous cube puzzle was made by Hungarian Ernő Rubik, now 79, from wood with painted coloured squares.

He created an interlocking set of blocks which he scrambled over and over again, until he realised he couldn’t put it back into place.

It took Ernő around a month before the colours aligned again. Not surprising, given that the cube has 43 quintillion possible configurations.

In fact, when Ernő invented the cube in 1974, he wasn’t sure it could ever be solved. It was released to the market in 1980 and since then, it has become a global phenomenon, with more than 350 million cubes sold.

Ernő can now solve the cube in around a minute. He says: ‘If you find something difficult and find a solution, it is much more enjoyable than finding something trivial. Millions of people are sharing this feeling and that’s a good thing.’

Once you’ve learnt how to solve it, the cube certainly has a therapeutic effect. Champion cuber Juliette Sébastien solves and resolves her cube while she speaks over the phone to Metro.co.uk, her sentences punctuated by a rhythmic click-clack.

The 22-year-old foreign languages student discovered cubing when she was 12, and her fastest official solve is an outstanding 4.44 seconds.

While she is currently busy at university, she can spend up to seven hours a day cubing.

‘The social aspect is extremely beneficial for me,’ she says. ‘Because competitions are generally a very friendly environment and people go to share similar interests. That helped me because I have always struggled to socialise and make friends. A few years into my cubing career I was diagnosed with autism, so that all made sense.

‘If you have autism, it feels like you’re constantly walking on eggshells and that everyone is playing a game that you don’t have the rules to. It is unpredictable and there is a lot to misunderstand. I just feel a lot more at ease with cubers. You have a set conversation topic, and you never run out of things to say.

‘Thanks to cubing, I’ve made a lot of very deep friendships that I would never have had to access otherwise. It’s a pretty niche hobby, and usually where you will find a lot of nerds. A lot of these people really get into the intellectual side of cubing. The community is more friendly than other competitive environments I’ve been in. Before cubing, I tried chess and I wasn’t motivated to continue because I found that the atmosphere wasn’t the nicest. It wasn’t a place I felt good in. Cubing is completely different.’

Juliette met her boyfriend (Quentin – fastest solve 5.05 seconds) at the European championships last year, and she finds the presence of the cube in her life soothing thanks to its ‘stimming’ effect.

Stimming, which varies from person to person, describes repetitive and self-stimulating behaviour for either enjoyment, to gain sensory input or to reduce it, or to deal with stress and uncertainty.

‘Cubing can alleviate tension or anxiety,’ explains Juliet, who was born in France but lives in London. ‘If I’ve had a hard day, solving the cube will calm me down. I find it much easier to talk to someone if I am playing around with my cube.’ 

Meanwhile, George adds: ‘I talk about solving cubes, but cubing has also solved my life. It’s amazing what it’s done for me. I’ve gone from being a timid 13-year-old to being fairly confident now, to competing round the country and appearing on TV. Even just going to competitions has had a huge impact. The big thing for me is that it taught me how to get up again. From a young age I’ve had to learn resilience.

‘Doing badly in competitions, being nervous, meant I had the choice to give up or give it one more push. I decided to really push; that really taught me that you have to just keep pursuing something.

‘Ambition and determination is so important in life to get you where you want to be. Cubing has brought me so much more than just solving; I’m making a career out of it. And that’s really exciting.’

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The number of children in care is now at its highest on record, but an increasing amount of LGBTQ+ couples are stepping up to take in some of the country’s most vulnerable kids.

Government statistics show that out of 2950 adoptions that took place in England last year, 540 were to same-sex couples. It’s a 17.4% rise on 2021’s figures; now, it’s thought that 1/6 adoptions are to LGBTQ+ families.

Stu Oakley, 38, is the author of The Queer Parent. He adopted three children over the course of two years.

Here, he explains the process he and his 47-year-old husband John went through to start their growing family.

‘The day we first met our children is a memory etched into my brain forever.

I remember the nerves of walking up the doorsteps and their foster dad opening the door. Our daughter just ran up behind him, with the biggest smile on her face. She looked at me and yelled ‘daddy!’ because they’d been showing them videos and photos of us.

It just melted my heart. We walked into the living room and my son, who was just a tiny baby, was gurgling on the mat. Everything felt right. I knew this was my family.

We’d always seen adoption as the route we wanted to go down. Surrogacy is a wonderful thing but for us, it didn’t feel right. We wanted to be on a level playing field, and with surrogacy, only one of us would genetically be the father.

It was when we moved house and had more space that we decided it was time to start a family. 

We saw an advert in a magazine for PACT – an adoption charity and family support provider. They had a history of working with LGBTQ+ couples, so we signed up for an information evening. They had a gay person there telling his story of adoption, and he made it sound really fair and thorough. We decided to sign up.

We started with an interview over the phone in April 2017, where we were asked very general questions. It was a strict process – and they even asked me if I smoked. I told them I’d last had a cigarette at Christmas but had given up since. However, PACT doesn’t take anyone who has smoked in the last six months. It was April at the time, so we had to put the process on hold until June – I remember John being so annoyed with me. I was so surprised how strict it was, but I knew it would be for the best if we had to wait.

We then had a formal in-person interview, and it gave us a clear roadmap about the next stages. Part of the process is being assigned a social worker who writes a prospective adopter’s report, which is essentially a biography of you and your partner’s life. 

Our social worker would come round to our house every week for a few months and spend an hour and a half with us as she compiled our lives.

It was really interesting as it threw up loads of conversations between myself and John that we’d potentially not had before because a lot of it is talking about the type of parent you’re going to be, or the type of child you’re looking for.

It was good to have that discussion about how to cope with certain situations, such as adopting a child with an illness, condition or certain needs. It felt like a pre-emptive therapy about how you’re going to parent.

The next stage was training, which was daunting and like an antenatal class. It helped us to know what to prepare for. I’d say 99% of all children who are currently in the care system have been through some form of trauma.

Something must have happened for them to have left their birth family. It’s about being prepared for what that might be. The training taught us how to understand for the child you’re adopting, everything is changing, and helping through the process of bonding with you. It was draining and you have to process a lot, but it was necessary. 

One of the exercises saw each of us holding a piece of string that represented a different strand of the child’s life. One of us had to role play as the child and cut each string with some scissors, which represented how they had to process change. It really put things in perspective.

At the beginning of the process, we didn’t think we wanted siblings, just a daughter. But as part of the training process you go through the list of what you’d want from a child, from their gender and age, right down to whether you might consider adopting a child with HIV or a disability.

We soon realised we wanted siblings, as we’d always dreamed of a big family and learned it’s easier to adopt sibling groups than solo children.

However, finding the right children is a very strange process. You get signed up to a profile site and you can see profiles of children in the care system. There’s usually a picture and some information, and you can see if there’s a connection before setting up a meeting with your social worker. That’s how we met our first two children.

‘At the time, my daughter was two and a half, and my son was seven months. There was a small picture of her and a short video of her talking and playing which melted our hearts.

After that, things happened quite quickly. We started to get to know them from afar, and sent our own videos and photos. We also bought them teddies and when we were sent a picture of our son with one of them, things felt right. Eventually, we were informed the adoption will be official and it was time to take the next steps.

It was a gradual build up of seeing our children over a 10 day period, until on the last day, we got to take them home. We settled them into bed and then it dawned on us we had two children upstairs. It was a weird but beautiful feeling. People think adoption is this long, drawn out process but we started in June 2017 and had our first two children in June 2018 – just over a year.

The children settled in quickly, as we mimicked the routine their foster parents followed – following the same teatimes and lunches. We used the same washing powder and took their bedding with us so they could have familiar smells. Over time, we also established our own routine and settled into a neat groove.

We didn’t think we’d adopt again, but we got an email from our PACT social worker in 2019. Our children’s birth mother had another baby who was now in the adoption system – he was our children’s biological sibling. When we saw the baby, we knew he was part of our family. As we’d adopted before, much of the process was sped up. It was like having an unplanned but very much wanted pregnancy. That was around four years ago now, and we couldn’t imagine our life without our youngest son.

Our children are now seven, five and four. They’re quite a handful but we’re really starting to see their personalities come through!

We’re totally honest and open about the fact they’re adopted, we want it to be something they’re proud of. It’s about reframing questions and perspectives – rather than ‘why don’t I have a mummy?’ we focus on what they do have: ‘I have two daddies, and I have a birth mum, she just doesn’t live with us.’

One of the beautiful things about being in a queer family, is that you don’t have to live by any kind of gendered expectations. There is no expectation that someone has to go out to work or one of us has to do the dishes or washing. There’s no in-built notions. We set our own rules. It’s purely logistically what works for our life and what we’re good at and what we’re not good at. We create our own rules.

For the most part, people have been wonderful and understanding, but you’d be surprised at the most common question we receive. A lot of people think it’s okay to ask: ‘So what happened to Mum? Is it drugs?’ It’s so rude. It’s up to our children to say, and really it’s not relevant. We’re their dad and daddy. They’re our children. That’s what matters.

I’d urge everyone who is considering adoption to do it. Just go and hear it out. I have a such a strong connection to my children – genetics don’t matter. There are so many beautiful wonderful children out there that need a loving home: it’s the best thing we’ve ever done.’

The Queer Parent is published by Pan MacMillan’s Bluebird. The podcast From Gay to Ze is available wherever you get your podcasts.

Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing Kimberley.Bond@metro.co.uk 

Share your views in the comments below.

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The Potters Arms, with its white washed exterior adorned with bright floral arrangements and hanging baskets is exactly what comes to mind when you think of a quintessential country pub.

It is set in the heart of the idyllic village of Winchmore Hill, just north-east of Slough, a place half an hour away by train from central London. With its winding lanes and expansive greenery as far as the eye can see, the area is a far cry from the metallic slick of Silicon valley – the more traditional playground for tech bros. But, for a while at least in the latter half of 2021, this community in the belly of rural England became an unlikely recruiting ground for a crypto currency called Koda.

‘In winter it looks like Narnia,’ Pete Gilbert, the pub landlord tells me as he gives me a tour. ‘All covered in snow it looks absolutely unbelievable and then in the spring with the yellow coming through.’

The reason I’m speaking to Pete is because he is a pretty key player in the story of Koda and The Potters arms, which I’ve been investigating for BBC Radio 4’s The Wolf of Crypto.

He was the first in Winchmore Hill to invest in the crypto currency when it launched in the summer of 2021 and in his role as landlord of The Potters Arms he promoted the opportunity to family, friends and pub regulars.

He estimates that there are probably hundreds of people who either directly or indirectly invested in Koda because of him.

Now, they’ve lost that money.

Koda was founded in May 2021 by the then 32-year-old James Gale. The venture wasn’t his first business, for the previous decade he’d been running a successful pest control company, and since 2018 had been dabbling in the world of crypto with his own money.

However, Koda was a new venture for the entrepreneur, his first professional foray into the world of crypto with other people’s money.

And straight away the business was hitting the headlines. Unlike traditional crypto coins, where you can never tell who exactly owns the currency, Koda was upfront about who was in charge and what it wanted to achieve. It was a refreshing change from bigger enterprises such as Bitcoin and Ethereum, with the company’s motto being ‘trust, education and ease of access.’

There was a huge fanfare around the start-up, too. The lavish launch party was attended by porn stars and entertainers, while Lamborghinis lined the street outside.

In an interview the next day with a reporter for My London, Gale described how money could buy happiness and that he was already earning a new nickname: ‘The Wolf of Crypto’. However, he added, ‘I prefer to refer to myself as a geek in wolf’s clothing.

‘I plan to make everyone involved in the project millionaires,’ he continued to the reporter, adding: ‘I’m going to make people’s dreams come true. But for me, in the not too distant future I won’t just be a millionaire, I’ll be a billionaire.’

Just a few weeks later, in the September of 2021, Gale also launched a car giveaway in which over the course of a year, three lucky investors would each win a sports car.

It was shortly after the launch of Koda that landlord Pete came across the crypto coin.

Having left school over 30 years ago with no qualifications, he’d made his wealth originally working on building sites and then later buying, renovating and selling houses. It was through one of his contacts in the building industry that Pete claims he first encountered Koda.

A friend had been working at the offices and told him about the project. Curious, Pete went down to the offices, met the team and invested.

At first, the value of the currency he’d bought seemed to be going up and up – so he invested more. At the same time, the landlord was recommending the product to family, friends and pub regulars.

Before too long, Pete was running crypto nights at the pub with members of the Koda team in attendance to help people who might want to invest.

‘Imagine you want to buy Bitcoin for example,’ Pete tells me. ‘You’re a crypto virgin and you have to learn it yourself. But with this, what you got was professional help. It was “put him on the phone” professional help, and that’s what gave it substance.’

32-year-old Lewis, one of the pub regulars agrees that this was part of the appeal. ‘I think the risk feels bigger with Bitcoin and stuff, because it didn’t have that whereas Koda did,’ he explains. ‘Early opportunity I think is not a thing for a lot of people and it [Koda] had a lot of benefits. There’s not a lot of crypto companies that had a home office space.’

However, Koda wasn’t just grabbing the attention of The Potters Arms, it was also getting national recognition within the media.

As well as being featured in My London, James Gale and Koda were also profiled in The Times and The Sun, where James provided readers with a list of ‘red flags to avoid when investing in crypto’. He also warned investors to ‘only invest what you can afford to lose’.

But he wasn’t just getting the thumbs up in print.

In the summer of 2021, a sponsorship deal was announced between Koda and the local football team Slough Town FC. The Koda team, alongside Danny Dyer, former footballer Nicky Shorey and actor Will Mellor were playing charity football matches against the club.

Two Pints star Will later posted that Koda were the ‘UK leaders’ in crypto and NFTs, in January 2022, while just over a year after Koda had launched, James was speaking as an expert voice on the documentary Crypto: Has The Bubble Burst?

‘Crypto currency took my love and I built a real world business around it,’ he told presenter Ade Adepitan. ‘So we have a face you know and I’m here as what we call doxed, which is a means of sharing my identity.’

The documentary, made by Parable Works, aired on Channel 4 on 9 August 2022. But already there were concerns about whether things were going well at Koda.

In the previous November, the value of the currency, like many others such as Bitcoin, had plummeted due to an industry-wide decline. However, while some coins bounced back before a second crypto crash the following May, Koda’s value continued to drop. To this day, it hasn’t picked up.

The impact of this was devastating on the community,

‘I’d lost my son four years ago and that had made me look at the world in a different light,’ explains Lewis Blackmore, when talking about why he’d invested in Koda.

‘I’ve worked for a builders for 12 or 13 years, constantly grafting. I got myself to a place where there wasn’t any more opportunities for me to get ahead in life so I had to make a decision to find an investment to move forward in life because no-one’s going to do that for me.

‘Hence why I invested,’ he adds. ‘If Koda hasn’t gone the way it went it could have changed my life massively.’

In total, Lewis lost just under £5,000 but he considers himself to be lucky. Many of the investors, including a friend of Pete’s, a man called Bobby, lost tens of thousands of pounds, their entire life savings.

‘I think because of the way it was being sold, it was the fact that moving forward it would be something that you were safe with,’ Bobby’s partner Amber told me. ‘I don’t think he felt like it could ever fail.’

Bobby died in July 2022 of suicide. The coroners report into his death found that his mental health was a contributing factor. Amber, who is going by a pseudonym, believes that losing so much money in Koda was a huge impact on his emotional wellbeing.

‘It caused him not to sleep and worry about money,’ she explains. ‘Money issues moving forwards and how he could ever recuperate what he’d lost, where he’d not slept for so long. He started hallucinating and he would just say, “If only I could sleep one night”.’

Over the course of the Radio 4 investigation, a number of those who invested, as well as former employees, have spoken out about how the company was run and whether this contributed to failure of the currency.

While the BBC found no evidence that Gale did anything other than preside over a cryptocurrency that precipitously dropped in value, there were a number of practices that raise concern.

A quick look on Companies House found that Koda’s parent company Summit Better Crypto Ltd was registered in 2021. However, over the two years it was registered, no financial documents were submitted.

When the BBC put this to Gale he said that all of Koda’s trading had actually been done through his Dubai Company Summit Better Crypto DMCC.

Summit Better Crypto Ltd had never actually traded in the UK, he said.

Of the three cars in the prize giveaway, it turns out that only one was ever issued as a prize. The second car was sold to an ex-employee in return for Koda, while the third prize was never even purchased by the company.

Gale explained that this was because there weren’t enough entrants to the competition – however, so far, no information has been found to show that he had made investors aware that it had been cancelled.

And the Slough football deal? Well, that was supposed to be a two year deal, but half way through Gale backed out shortly before the second season was due to start. As a result, the club spent half a season without the sponsorship funding they’d budgeted for.

Gale told the BBC this was a commercial decision and he was unaware of any financial difficulty faced by the club.

It was also alleged that Gale sent abusive messages to a fired employee Carl Dawkins, who raised concerns about Koda on his Youtube channel. Gale has since admitted he sent these, but added that he has apologised to Carl.

A number of other people involved in Koda also allege that they have, or that they know of people who have, been sent anonymous death threats which reference the crypto company. However, there is no evidence that these threats came from Gale and he denies sending them. 

In fact, when approached, Gale pointed out that he himself has been the victim of harassment and that landlord Pete Gilbert had been sending abusive tweets. When asked about why he sent them, Gilbert said he wished to provide ‘no comment’.

Two days after the BBC contacted James Gale on the 17 July for an interview or response, he stepped down from Koda.

He told the BBC this had been planned for some time and was a result of being subject to a relentless campaign of abuse and attacks. Gale wholeheartedly denies any allegation that he acted wrongly, misled anyone or tried to wrongly or unfairly incentivise people to invest in Koda.

For the people of Winchmore Hill, the fear is that the Koda fever that once gripped the community will have lasting impact. All they hope to do is remain tightknit as they try to look forward and move on with their lives.  

You can listen to The Wolf of Crypto on BBC sounds now.

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It was my friend, Sarah (not her real name, obviously) that served as inspiration for my sexual exploration.

During a quiet afternoon at her flat, where we lazed around on her sofa eating crisps and houmous, she confessed she’d had a threesome with her husband and another woman at a sex party.

Immediately, my interest was piqued as she detailed the sumptuous setting in a discreet East London location where she had her first multi-way encounter. The story put me right off my houmous, to be honest.

‘But wasn’t it full of seedy, old pervs?’ I asked, picturing a cascade of Hugh Hefners leering after girls in lacy underwear.

‘Nah,’ Sarah replied, continuing to dip her Doritos unabashed. ‘Everyone was in their late twenties, early thirties max. It was actually really fun.’

As a sex party virgin, I wasn’t sure where to start, or which party to go to, when I started researching the numerous offerings available in the capital. Killing Kittens was repeatedly suggested, and they were kind enough to let me attend their annual Summer Ball.

I was taken aback by the many steps necessary in order to head to a party.

Every guest has to sign up through the WeAreX app, under an alias (mine’s KimDeLaKum, if you’re interested), and agree to the numerous strict rules that Killing Kittens requests everyone abides to (only women, or ‘kittens’ may make the first move, and only kittens can invite men to parties).

As well as justifying why you’re joining Killing Kittens, you then also have to sign an agreement before attending that entailed rules about privacy and respect. 

The rules also stressed this was a formal, classy affair, where you were expected to be dressed appropriately or face being turned away at the door. We were expected to wear white (‘To hide stains?’ a particularly crude voice said in my head as I spooled through the details).

I knew I wasn’t going to have sex at the party – I have a boyfriend, and no matter how easy-going he is in most aspects in life, even he would draw a line at letting me participate in group sex with a bunch of strangers. Instead, I kept telling myself this was for research, that I was Louis Theroux with his wry smile at the orgy.

Choosing something white to wear proved difficult – I had nothing particularly sex party friendly, so I opted for an off-cream jumpsuit that I’ve worn to job interviews. Anyway, any attempt to look sexy was straight out the window, as an enflamed tendon on my little toe meant I had to wear a thick white bandage, which bulged through my strappy gold heels. I was grateful that it was ‘essential’ that we had to wear a mask, so at least my face was mostly disguised. 

The top-secret location of the ball was released the day before the event, and so I trekked with trepidation to the North East London nightclub with a sick feeling of nerves gnawing at my stomach. I’m certainly no prude, having licked my fair share of peanut butter in my time, but I wasn’t sure how I was going to react at seeing so much sex in such an enclosed, magnified setting. Thankfully, prosecco at the venue was only about £6, so I knocked back a few glasses for Dutch courage (despite being warned ‘not to drink and kink’).

It was a younger crowd, mostly couples in their 20s and 30s, mingled and chatted. Some of them were already kissing passionately in the small enclosed booths. I decided to let them crack on – no-one likes a third wheel, particularly not one with a dictaphone.

The people I did chat to were friendly; one woman, who was 29, told me she regularly went to sex parties to experiment with other girls. Another couple, who were in their thirties, found it helped spice up their sex life. 

My injured foot was a helpful ice-breaker, with people asking what the hell was wrong with me after the initial pleasantries. One man, wearing just a black thong, told me off when I apologised for being distinctly unsexy.

‘It doesn’t have to be unsexy!’ he said. ‘You have to will yourself to make it sexy.’

‘Yeah…like, bandage before bondage?’ I wisecracked. He walked away.

Going to a sex club for the first time? Here’s what you need to know

Dr Chris Haywood, who’s a reader in critical masculinity studies at Newcastle University, has gone to sex clubs specifically to research them in person.

In his opinion, what goes on there is a bit more complicated than what we think of as swinging.

1. Women are (often) in control
2. Not everyone will be having sex
3. Everyone else is nervous too
4. Different clubs have different vibes
5. Just say ‘hello’
6. And if you’re not feeling it, just leave

You can read more first time advice here.

As well as general mingling, a cabaret show played on stage, with a variety of acts to get punters in the mood. Memorable performances included the ballerina, who took off her tutu to reveal she wasn’t wearing any knickers, and a man dressed as a cowboy dancing to Jamaroquai and bursting balloons on a naked woman.

At 11pm, we were duly informed that the ‘dungeons’ were open, which meant that any sexual play could now take place. A DJ put on a house remix of Lana Del Rey and people started to undress. One woman, who had been in an elegant white gown, pulled down her sleeves to expose her breasts to an interested crowd. Meanwhile, two girls started kissing. A man who was part of their group whirled me around on the dancefloor. 

After another hastily swallowed drink, I decided to visit the so-called ‘dungeons’. Immediately, I was confronted with a woman performing oral sex on a naked man, who lay spread eagle in a booth. I shuddered at the thought of his raw, potentially unwashed arse on the leather seats. It was a sign of things to come (no pun intended).

The orgy room, at the very back of the venue, saw several couples (and throuples… and more multiples) in a variety of clinches. Soft music played over the room of writing bodies, which had attracted interested onlookers. I accidentally made eye contact with one man, who was balancing a woman on his balls while another squatted over his face. Another man, who was bent over, had a dominatrix run her fingers up his thighs before whipping him with some sort of riding crop. 

I was told the upstairs section was a little more private, but there was still plenty of action taking place. One square mattress had six people rolling around on it, while another adventurous pair were trying out the sex swing which loomed over us. There was no music there – there was no need for it, with people’s moans of ecstacy and wet sounds of slapping the soundtrack.

While a fair amount of people attending were in established couples or groups, I was taken aback by how few condoms there seemed to be. I wasn’t sure if they were more readily available at the bar, but for all the bare penises I saw winking at me, barely any were rubbered up.

It was around 12.30am when I returned to the dancefloor, which had mostly been cleared. I looked to my left and saw a man with his finger deeply inserted in another woman’s anus, so I decided it was time to go. The prim side of me hoped he had hand sanitiser before he touched anyone else.

As we weren’t allowed to take our phones inside, where I usually keep my bank card, I stuffed my Natwest debit card in my bra and found to my horror that it wasn’t in there. Terrified at what orifice it may have been wedged inside, I decided to just cancel it when I got home and rely on my Apple Pay.

Sat on the Elizabeth Line with some very drunk office workers, my heels now in my hand, I thought about what on earth I just witnessed at my first sex party.

I admired the space it provided for the adventurous and curious looking to try something new. While it was overwhelming at times, it felt safe thanks to the strictness of the rules and the attentiveness of staff, who all walked around wearing t-shirts emblazoned with ‘don’t be a creep’. This was further enforced with an aftercare email all partygoers received the next day.

The sex party fundamentally helped me realise my own sexuality too: I don’t find sex, in and of itself, sexy. What turns me on, seemingly, is the intimacy of the heat of the moment of being irresistible to someone else. Having a baying audience of masked watchers would not spice up my performance. If anything, I’d further wilt under the lights.

I get home and climb into bed with my boyfriend, who grunts in his sleep as I manoeuvre myself to be in his arms. Millennials may be bringing the sex party back, but for this millennial, I’m not RSVPing. One partner away from other prying eyes is more than enough for me.

Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing Kimberley.Bond@metro.co.uk 

Share your views in the comments below.

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Alicia – who’s going by a pseudonym – wasn’t sure what to wear to this evening soiree, hoping to look effortlessly chic in a long-sleeved top and jeans. She was nervous as other guests started to arrive. One brought flowers. Another baked a cake. For such a liberal, open-minded set up, the event was jarringly wholesome.

And then, people started taking their clothes off.

Alicia, knew she was there for a sex party – but she was still surprised at just how… naked everyone got.

‘My mind was completely blown,’ recalls the 32-year-old. ‘It was eye-opening. There were people having sex in corners, threesomes in the middle of the living room. 

‘I had my first lesbian experience there. I was clear that I didn’t fancy women but it was fun to dabble in an environment that was judgement-free.

‘It also changed my appreciation for open relationships. The guy I was with clearly loved his partner – even when she was having sex with other people in front of him.

‘The whole event was like nothing I’d seen before.’ 

Alicia’s experience is becoming increasingly common amongst millennials and Gen Z, who are eschewing the traditional dating scene in favour of a rapidly growing alternative way to meet people – sex parties.

As a concept, these shindigs aren’t anything new. The advent of the pill heralded the sexual revolution of the 1960s, which in turn saw the proliferation of alternative relationship structures. Swinging, where people in committed relationships exchange partners, became increasingly popular, with ‘the lifestyle’ being embraced by an estimated 1.5 million Brits.

However, sex parties have far evolved beyond throwing keys into a bowl and decorating your garden with pampas grass. The scene is now embraced by the sexually adventurous younger generation on a mission to make sex soirees mainstream.

Research has found that millennials and Gen Z are more accepting of alternative relationship dynamics – a 2020 YouGov study found 43% of millennials are likely to say their ideal relationship is non-monogamous, while the annual LELO sex census has found 38% of people aged 18 to 24 are open to polyamory.

These more liberally minded attitudes have seen apps which promote alternative relationship structures flourishing in more recent years, with Feeld (essentially, a kinky Tinder for people looking to try ethical non-monogamy) being hailed as ‘single handedly firing up London’s sex party scene.’

‘Millennials represent our largest demographic,’ Feeld’s CEO, Ana Kirova, explains to Metro.co.uk. ‘They stand at the intersection of heteronormative dynamics and a newly discovered desire to explore beyond the traditional norms.’

‘In the meantime, we are seeing more Gen Z users join. While this younger demographic represents a smaller portion of our overall user base, they are certainly more fluid with their sexuality – they are our smallest straight-identifying audience.’

With Feeld having grown steadily since its inception in 2014, its peak came when it experienced ‘triple digit growth’ between 2020 and 2022, and now makes around 700,000 connections each month.

‘Millennials and Gen Z have the mindset that Feeld users share – they are known as more open-minded than generations prior, and are exploring the boundaries of societal expectation and reality,’ Ana adds.

Polly, who is in her early 30s, has certainly observed a change in attendees at sex parties over the years. Having been a regular at established events such as Killing Kittens and Torture Garden, and attending around five to six parties a year, she had seen a marked shift in the volume of younger guests.

‘When I first started going, I was definitely among the younger people in attendance,’ she tells Metro.co.uk. ‘Now the parties I tend to go to are mostly people in their mid to late 20s. There’s still people who are older but they are by no means the prominent demographic.

‘It’s always such a mix of people: all shapes, sizes, personalities, and there’s been a greater prevalence of people going to just try it out.  It’s less of a secret now.’

Polly has always been interested in the sex party scene. Previously a member of FetLife (which she describes as a kinky Facebook), she was always looking for events to attend that weren’t too fetish-heavy, but also weren’t marketed as swingers events, as she was keen to go as a single woman without a partner. 

After a friend suggested she attended a Killing Kittens event, Polly decided to give the party a go – where she caught the sex soiree bug.

‘I jumped in at the deep end,’ she confesses. ‘I’m an actor, so I’m very comfortable being naked around people.

‘The moment I arrived, I stripped off and put all my clothes in the cloakroom and walked around naked.

‘Everyone was so chilled. When you put the taboo in front of someone, it is immediately easier to talk about. No one needed to covertly flirt with you. We all knew what we were there for.’

Polly adds the sheer sexiness of the event is what made attending so intoxicating.

‘It’s certainly on the classier side,’ Polly says. ‘People wear nice dresses and make an effort, the parties tend to be grand townhouses with chandeliers and high ceilings.

‘It was like going to a cocktail party where anything goes. Everyone is very tactile and up for anything. It’s nice not to feel inhibited by society’s norms.’

Killing Kittens is certainly one of the more established sex party stalwarts on the scene. Founded in 2005 by Emma Sayle, the parties initially started as small soirees which put the pleasure of the ‘kittens’ – the female party-goers – at the forefront.

The brand’s popularity has since exploded in more recent years, with Killing Kittens’s Senior Events and Education Manager, Kamila Rybankiewicz, reporting a 400% increase in party attendance in the last two years.

We’re in the Roaring Twenties…people want to go out and try new things

‘We’re definitely getting a lot more younger people coming to our parties,’ Kamila, who has been with the brand for eight years, explains. ‘We’ve gone to our biggest events having 200 attendees in 2019, and now we’re easily having 800 guests at parties.

‘Everyone wants to explore to some extent. Whether it’s just going and dancing in their lingerie in front of other people or full sex or a group experience, people realise they need to do it in a safe environment.’

It’s the safety features Killing Kittens offers which may be why its popularity has soared. Partnering with the WeAreX app, the brand insists everyone that attends their parties needs to be approved and verified first. Those who make it on the party’s guestlist are then sent an exhaustive list of rules of conduct and decorum they must abide by at each event.

‘Consent is at the heart of everything we do,’ Kamila explains. ‘We want to create an environment where the kittens, so people who identify as femme, are in charge. Only kittens can approach men, a bit like Bumble, and no man can buy a ticket on his own – he has to be invited by a kitten. We want to create an environment which is empowering for femmes.’

Kamila also attributes the brand’s sharp increase in popularity to a post-pandemic hedonism, where the enforced national lockdowns saw people pondering new experiences.

‘We’re in the roaring twenties,’ Kamila explains. ‘People want to go out, try new things, and do things they wouldn’t have done otherwise. If we’ve learned anything from the pandemic, it’s that life is too short. We need to live our lives to the fullest.’

The pandemic is what propelled Alicia to attend her boyfriend’s sex party. Having been in a serious relationship through lockdown and a self-described ‘serial monogomist’, she was willing to dive headfirst into the world of sex parties when restrictions lifting finally allowing people space to breathe again.

Polly argues the popularity of sex parties, particularly amongst younger clientele, may stem from the more casual nature of dating and relationships.

‘A sex party is basically an in-person dating app,’ she explains. ‘You can meet someone, instead of swiping, see if you click and see if you have chemistry. If you don’t, you never have to see them again

‘You can do it safely. You don’t have to go home with someone you don’t know. I genuinely feel safer at sex parties than I have at nightclubs, because the rules and boundaries are made very clear. You can go off privately with someone and have sex.’

Now firmly embedded into the sex party scene, Polly has made a large group of close friends from the numerous events she’s attended. The sex parties facilitated a strange sort of inverted courtship between them; starting out with sex and ending up as friends.

‘There’s groups of us where we don’t necessarily have sex with each other but we’re all comfortable in that environment where that happens,’ Polly says. ‘We actually rarely talk about sex. We have really in-depth conversations about life and we’re all open emotionally with each other.

‘We have to be attuned to our own emotions or boundaries and what you need from someone in given moment. If you can communicate that during sex, you can communicate in any other context. It lends itself to much deeper relationships.’

Of course, not everyone’s encounters at sex parties are intended to be so wholesome. For William*, who started going to events when he was 27, the casual sex he has with women helps him improve technique.

‘I’m very aware of the orgasm gap,’ he explains. ‘I like to watch and see what I learn, as it’s important that both parties come.

‘There are some parties I’ve gone to, and it’s like being in a chocolate factory – it’s very visual and there’s so much to see and experience.

‘However, you can’t always go and expect sexual intercourse. There’s a lot more sexual tourists recently – people who just want to see what’s going on.

‘But it’s not always about the sex at a sex party. It’s the spectacle of doing something different.’

Kamila agrees that sex isn’t – and shouldn’t be – a guarantee at a party.

‘Sometimes, only 40% of people who are at the party want to play,’ she explains. ‘And that’s completely fine. It’s about experimenting and feeling comfortable.

‘Sex parties may not be mainstream yet, but we’re seeing baby steps to this being much more acceptable. We’re seeing such huge growth, and I hope it continues. We need these spaces for people of all ages to explore and experiment.’

Alicia and her boyfriend went their separate ways on good terms after she attended his sex party, and she hasn’t attended any since.

‘If I’m honest, I enjoyed it too much,’ she confesses. ‘It was such an adrenaline rush. I think I’d become addicted to it. I have a business to run, work to do, friends and family to see, relationships I’m trying to build. I’d find it too much of a distraction.’

Polly, however, has no plans to put pause on the parties.

‘Sex parties have changed my life,’ she says. ‘People are so friendly and welcoming. Of course, it’s easy to overindulge. But seeing older people at parties reassures me. I will be doing this decades down the line.’

*names have been changed

'I'm a sex party virgin... here's what my first time was like'

As a sex party virgin, I wasn’t sure where to start, or which party to go to, when I started researching the numerous offerings available in the capital. Killing Kittens was repeatedly suggested, and they were kind enough to let me attend their annual Summer Ball.

The top-secret location of the ball was released the day before the event, and so I trekked with trepidation to the North East London nightclub with a sick feeling of nerves gnawing at my stomach. I’m certainly no prude, having licked my fair share of peanut butter in my time, but I wasn’t sure how I was going to react at seeing so much sex in such an enclosed, magnified setting. Thankfully, prosecco at the venue was only about £6, so I knocked back a few glasses for dutch courage (despite being warned ‘not to drink and kink’).

After another hastily swallowed drink, I decided to visit the so-called ‘dungeons’. Immediately, I was confronted with a woman performing oral sex on a naked man, who lay spread eagle in a booth. I shuddered at the thought of his raw, potentially unwashed arse on the leather seats. It was a sign of things to come (no pun intended).

The orgy room, at the very back of the venue, saw several couples (and throuples… and more multiples) in a variety of clinches. Soft music played over the room of writing bodies, which had attracted interested onlookers. I accidentally made eye contact with one man, who was balancing a woman on his balls while another squatted over his face. Another man, who was bent over, had a dominatrix run her fingers up his thighs before whipping him with some sort of riding crop…. To continue reading, clickhere.

Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing Kimberley.Bond@metro.co.uk 

Share your views in the comments below.

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His brief: to document a civic uprising taking place within the state of New Jersey, USA.

Little did he realise back then in 1967, the profound impact the images he captured would hold.

As he and fellow journalist Dale Wittner spent days pounding the city streets of Newark, the pair managed to lay bare the tense stand-off between the city’s Black community and an authoritarian police force.

However, it was their encounter with a man called Billy Furr, that would truly bring to light the horrors of that time, after he was gunned down in cold blood by two police officers.

12-year-old bystander, Joey Bass Jr. was also caught in the crossfire and left wounded and bleeding on the pavement – he became a tragic symbol of the innocent victims caught up in the five-day long violence, which ultimately saw the loss of 26 lives.

With Bud Lee’s poignant collection of photographs, recently published in the book ‘The War Is Here: Newark 1967’, many of the images continue to resonate today.

As his work shows, the undeniable parallels of 1967 Newark and the ongoing struggles in modern-day America remain, with gun violence and police brutality tragically still the pressing issues that grip the nation.

*Warning: distressing imagery

Writer and journalist Chris Campion, is the editor of The War Is Here: Newark 1967.

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‘Special’, ‘place’, and ‘need’ are the first three words Deaf Kurdish schoolboy Lawand Hamad Amin says in Edward Lovelace’s crisp and touching documentary Name Me Lawand. 

As the audience is introduced to his world, the earthslowly spins in space as the young refugee – whose deportation battle made headlines in late 2016 amid his rapid progress in learning British Sign Language – struggles to find his place in it.

Born profoundly deaf and having no deaf friends in Iraq, five-year-old Lawand felt lost as he tried to keep quiet in the back of a lorry with his family and understand his treacherous journey to the UK back in 2016.

After enrolling at the Royal School for the Deaf in Derby that year, he again found himself experiencing a familiar sense of confusion while settling into a new community.

‘I had a very nice house in Iraq and I didn’t really know what was going on,’ Lawand tells Metro.co.uk over FaceTime, ‘and when we were at the house in Derby, the feelings that I had were very similar, but it was a big shock at both times.’

Inside Lawand there was, as writer and director Edward Lovelace (co-director of the 2012 Katy Perry documentary Part of Me) explains, a vast, huge landscape full of memories, ideas and wants for the future. He was just trying to find a way to communicate that to others.

It was seeing photos of Lawand and his older brother Rawa, 14, which drew Edward to making the film – they were siblings who had the same journey to the UK, but unable to share their own experiences with one another.

‘The idea of a documentary process possibly giving them a platform to communicate together, for the family to understand each other in a new way – that was inspiring to me,’ Edward explains.

‘The main thing was feeling like a refugee story could be told through a kid’s perspective in a really direct and human way. I thought that would bring some greater truth and clarity to the whole refugee crisis, in a way that might open people’s perspectives about such a broad and complex subject.’

Space is at the heart of Lawand’s sense of belonging in the film, explains Edward. If he is not dreaming of being on another planet where he doesn’t feel different to everyone else, he’s grounded in the real world with his search for ‘home’ – in all its forms.

‘When people say, “oh, I feel at home here”, they’re not talking necessarily about their house,’ adds the director. ‘They’re talking about a feeling they get by being with certain people in a certain area.

‘I think Lawand felt, “if I landed on another planet, what I’d be looking for is just friendship and connection”,’ he continues.

‘Something that seems so unthinkable for Lawand to get, is what most other people would take for granted – connection and friendship.’

One such connection explored in the film is Lawand’s bond with Sophie Stone, the Deaf actress best known for roles in Casualty and Doctor Who. When she’s not performing, she also works as a support teacher.

With the help of a bright yellow balloon, she shows Lawand the joy of music and drumming. Referencing an iconic scene from The Matrix, where Keanu Reeves seems to defy gravity as he falls back in slow motion and then comes back up, she introduces him to a form of atmospheric ‘sign-acting’ and performance art known as Visual Vernacular or VV for short.

‘[Neo] nearly falls but comes back up, ready to fight back,’ Sophie explains to him. ‘He feels nothing.’ 

It speaks to Lawand’s resilience amid isolation and confusion over settling in the UK. After an initial numbness to the world around him, he becomes increasingly inquisitive as the film progresses. As for VV, he plans to look into it and try to have a go (though he tells Metro that he later decided to give it up as no one else at his school was doing it as well).

‘Just watching Lawand learn language… You could tell there was his personality inside of him trying to get out,’ says Edward. ‘You could see that he got out a lot of his frustrations and once they were out, he just became mega happy. From then on, you could really see him mastering humour and banter.’

Lawand’s playfulness is immediately apparent during his call with Metro. He beams while holding his seven-month-old baby brother Rewan, chats about BMWs, and is not afraid to be a bit upfront about what it’s been like teaching Rawa sign language.

‘[It’s] quite annoying,’ Lawand, who is now 12, says frankly, ‘because I’ve had to teach him. Over time, though, I do know that his signing’s really improved. It’s really hard to communicate with him, but he does try.’

A conversation between the two of them is filmed at the top of the stairway in their Derby home. Lawand signs enthusiastically about their visit to the beach in Liverpool, a place which is good for swimming, his brother notes. 

Waves crash and bubble as Lawand tells Rawa how wishes he knew how to float in the water, a stillness which likely speaks to the youngster’s search for inner peace, and stability amid the ongoing threat of deportation from the Home Office.

Perhaps, too, the flow of such a rich, visual language like BSL. Towards the end of the almost 90-minute documentary, which brings us closer to the present day, Lawand heads to London to attend last year’s rally for a British Sign Language Act, legislation which – in April 2022 – would finally recognise the language as the one used by Deaf people in England, Scotland and Wales.

‘It was really a nervous feeling, seeing all the Deaf people around me,’ he admits. ‘It was just a bit overwhelming, to see lots and lots of Deaf people at one time around you, you’re like, “wow”.’

The flood of language and community is not unique to the young boy at the centre of the documentary, either. Over the four years spent filming Lawand’s mastering of British Sign Language, Edward too was learning BSL in order to get the most out of his subject.

‘I think myself – like Lawand, like anyone who learns sign – I just fell in love with the language,’ the director explains. ‘It’s so visual, it’s so expressive, that for me, going on this journey myself about learning this new language, that language giving me access to not just Lawand, but to understand his friends, his school, or this whole beautiful world that surrounded him in Derby. That was a joy for me.’

It’s the same insight Edward wants viewers to experience when they watch the documentary in cinemas.

‘I want the audience to not look at Lawand and have an opinion about what they might think about this kid, but rather live the experience that he’s lived and then they would have a truer understanding of what he’s been through,’ he says. 

‘The empathy, I think, will be as big as possible, because hopefully the audience have stepped into his shoes.’

Naturally, sound plays a part in conveying Lawand’s journey and interactions with the world around him. Speech is muffled at points, and Sam Arnold – a Deaf assistant director who, like Lawand, is a cochlear implant user – helped shape the documentary’s engaging use of sound.

‘We’re less interested in what the audience can hear, but instead what the sound design would make the audience feel,’ says Edward. ‘Sam was obviously saying, at times, audio can create a sense of calm, what you’re hearing can create a sense of calm. It can create a sense of anxiety.

‘It was just all about what is the emotional feeling? What does it feel like to sit in a class and what does it feel like to go through those things, basically.’

Edward’s interview with Metro comes a day after MPs debated the House of Lords’ amendments to the Illegal Migration Bill, the controversial policy which seeks to deport asylum seekers to Rwanda. Peers wanted changes to prevent ministers breaching international conventions, exempt victims of modern slavery, and block LGBTQ+ individuals from being deported to a list of named countries – all of which were ultimately rejected.

Then, after a period of back-and-forth between the Commons and the Lords, the Bill became law on Thursday 20 July, 2023.

While immigration remains a divisive and hostile a topic as ever, Edward says that he hopes his film brings the human side of the issue to the fore.

‘I really feel like someone that might have a certain opinion about refugees coming into their country could watch this film, and actually, it might make them realise that at the heart of all these big, big issues, there’s just humans,’ he says.

‘Lawand and his brother are just kids who want to play football and just hang out with their friends – and know that they can know they’re going to be able to see their friends tomorrow.

‘I would say anyone that has an opinion about refugees coming to the UK, if they hung out with Lawand and his family, would understand why this family needs to be in the UK. They would be shocked about what they went through for seven years here just waiting for their decision.’

However, Lawand’s family are one of the lucky ones, Edward points out. ‘There’s loads who have been here 20 years and still don’t have answers, basically,’ he says.

A week after attending the BSL rally in Trafalgar Square, the same day it passed its final stage in the House of Commons, a court granted Lawand’s application for asylum in the UK, seven years after he first arrived.

His exceptional progress in learning sign language was cited by the judge as one of the reasons the family should stay in the UK.

The ‘special place’ Lawand’s younger self was looking for was finally looking a lot more concrete.

‘It meant that we didn’t have to fly back to Iraq,’ he says. “I didn’t have to meet any new people. I could just be here with people that I knew, that I felt comfortable with.

‘It made me feel really happy.’

Name Me Lawand is in cinemas now and on BFI Player from 21 August. For more information click here.

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When Carole Fisher met Bob Bierenbaum, she was overjoyed to have met the most eligible man she could have hoped for.

Even when a red flag emerged on their very first date an Indian Restaurant in Las Vegas, she did her best to ignore it. After all, he was a charming, wealthy plastic surgeon who could cook amazing meals, speak five languages and fly planes. Carole, then a divorced single mum, believed he was her knight in shining armour. 

‘I was trying to understand who this man is and I was talking about his past while sharing mine,’ Carole tells Metro.co.uk about their date in 1995. ‘When I asked him if he had ever been married before, he was very, very hesitant to admit it. So I joked: “Hey, what did you do? Murder your wife?”’ 

Bierenbaum went pale and very quiet – and then started to quiz Carole about what she knew. ‘His reaction to that question was a red flag. I had great intuition but I ignored it,’ she admits. 

‘He then proceeded to tell me a very elaborate story, designed to make me feel sorry for him, all about his wife who had a drug problem, who had affairs, who left the home for good one day and probably either committed suicide or was out living with another guy.

‘I wanted to believe that to be true, because I didn’t want him to be anyone other than who I wanted him to be.’ 

What Carole didn’t know was that she was about to embark on a relationship with a murderer. 

Bierenbaum’s wife, Gail Katz, did indeed go missing from her New York home on July 7, 1985. He told her family and police they had a fight at their apartment and Katz stormed off.

In the days that followed he and Gail’s family would traipse through Central Park,desperately distributing missing-person flyers. However, he knew she was never coming home, as Bierenbaum had killed Gail and thrown her body out of a hired light aircraft over the Atlantic Ocean.

With no body and no evidence, police failed to bring him to justice, and for three decades, Bierenbaum protested his innocence.

Gail’s bereaved sister Alayne refused to believe him and for the next 30 years hunted Bierenbaum relentlessly, leaving answerphone messages, saying: “I know you killed my sister. You’re not going to get away with it.”

Following Gail’s disappearance, Bierenbaum had dated a string of women and even re-married and had a child. Many of them had been on the receiving end of his terrifying temper and disturbing behaviour, and it was their accounts that helped build a case against him, after the case was reopened by the DA.

But while the cold-blooded killer was finally convicted in 2000 -with him still maintaining his innocence – Gail Katz’s body has never been found.

From her Las Vegas home Carole, now 65, recalls a series of warning signs that should have sent her running after that first date in 1995.

On one occasion Bierenbaum threatened to kill her mother’s dog, she tells Metro.co.uk. On another, he accused her of giving him syphilis. 

‘He could go from zero to 100 in a rage really quickly,’ she remembers. ‘There was a time when I was emptying his dishwasher and I dropped a glass and it broke. And he was so angry and it was out of proportion with the event. That was a significant red flag. I wasn’t scared for my safety, but I was alarmed that this man had such a temper. I thought: “Something’s not right here”. 

‘And he was extremely controlling. He had this sense of ownership of me. He would behave in a certain way in public, as if he was showing me off all the time. It was odd. It wasn’t like a partnership, it all felt like manipulation and control. I would like other women to know – if someone is trying to control and dominate and has a bad temper – take it seriously.’

The sinister behaviour exhibited by Bierenbaum towards Carole was the same that had been experienced by Gail more than a decade prior.

He would control what she wore, force her to sit on his lap while he fed her, and on one occasion, even tried to drown her cat in the toilet.

One in three women will be subject to domestic abuse in their lifetime, according to No More, a global nonprofit dedicated to ending domestic and sexual violence which has been working with Carole on podcast The Girlfriends about her – and other women’s – experiences with Bierenbaum.

It was after six months, that he ended their relationship. ‘I was too strong a personality for him, I wasn’t going to be the compliant woman for him,’she says, knowing now that she was lucky to escape with her life. 

When he was finally arrested in 1999, and Carole was called to give evidence in court the following year, she was terrified.

She hadn’t seen her ex in 25 years and the first time she faced Bierenbaum in court was chilling: ‘It was a very, very intimidating experience, one that I will never forget,’ she recalls. ‘I flew in the night before and got the hell out of there the next day. Bob gave me this really odd kind of smirk, looking at me.

‘And I’m thinking: “This is not a smiling situation. This is a serious situation.” I’ve never been sure what that smirk or smile was but I wasn’t there to protect him. I was there to do the right thing. And to make sure that I told the truth. 

‘It was just horrible to see him. There’s not many things that intimidate me or scare me. But I was shaken that day to the core. It was a very emotional experience. And I was very scared.’ 

Carole, a strategic advisor, was relieved when, back at her desk in Las Vegas she received the call confirming that Bierenbaum had been jailed for 20 years for strangling Gail to death.

But she still couldn’t get her head around it, wanting to believe that somehow it was an accident or an argument gone wrong. 

‘I wanted to live in denial. It was an easier place for me to live,’ she explains. ‘I’ve been in denial for more than 20 years. I never wanted to admit that it could have been me, or that I dated someone who was so horrific. Such a sociopath. Even at the time of conviction, I can tell you that while I understood he murdered his wife, I still was under the impression in my mind of twisted thinking – that maybe that was an accident. Maybe it wasn’t intentional. 

‘But it was. And it was horrific either way, whether it’s an accident or not. There’s no excuse for that behaviour. It was hard for me to think that I allowed my daughter, who was maybe nine years old at the time, to go and be with him, or that I dated him. I just had a hard time really getting to grips with that.’ 

It wasn’t until Carole started working on the podcast that she realised how deep this river of denial ran. She says she is now proud to be a voice for Gail and for all the women in violent relationships who can’t speak out for themselves. 

‘Today I am very pleased that he’s behind bars,’ says Carole. ‘I hope that he remains there. He’s eligible for parole, but I think that would be a mistake to let a man like that out. And today I’m owning this part of my story.

‘There are women that are in domestic violence situations that just don’t feel they can ask for help,’ she adds. ‘

We have to create a safety net for these women. And we have to talk about this issue. So this podcast is serving as a voice for those women and I’m really proud to be part of that.’ 

The next episode of The Girlfriends is due out 24 July and will be available to listen to here.

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I was just a child when the shadow of anti-semitism spread across my home country of Slovakia.

In 1941, the Jewish Code was passed – the strictest anti-Jewish law in Europe – and my father was taken out of his job in the international textile business and Jewish children were taken out of schools.

The youngest of six children, I didn’t understand what was going on. My parents didn’t explain to me why we had to keep moving house, or why each home became poorer.

My early childhood in Bratislava had been happy and secure. On Saturdays, we went to synagogue, and afterwards we went to a restaurant or picnicked in the surrounding hills. But by the time I was seven, our lives were in mortal danger.

I remember walking by the river when a soldier came up to me and shouted ‘Jews are not allowed here’. I was puzzled. How did he know I was Jewish? I thought it must be my black eyes, which my mother had described as beautiful. I remember trying to wash them with soap to make them lighter.

A horrific culture of fear descended. I saw so much suffering; pregnant women being beaten up and soldiers marching up and down the Jewish quarters taking people away.

People began to disappear. My sister Noemi and my brother Marti Martin were sent to relatives in Hungary, where my parents hoped they’d be safe.

Then in 1944 the unimaginable became reality and German soldiers began carrying out regular house-to-house searches. Fortunately, we had a contact in the Hlinka Guards – Slovakia’s state police – who had another of my sisters declared medically unfit to travel due to typhus. This saved our family from almost certain death in the camps.

A decree was issued which ordered the removal of every Jew from Nitra where we were living. Overnight, chaos and fear engulfed the town. A siren sounded calling all Jews to assemble at the railway tracks for the final transportation. My father was put on a train. My mother was hysterical. She took me and my sister Gerti to her sister’s and along with another aunt, two uncles and a cousin, we went into hiding in a building of apartments occupied by millworkers. We didn’t know what was going to happen to us.

Our hiding place was perilous. Days and nights were punctuated by the continuous sound of blaring loud speakers booming out the message that anyone who hid a Jew placed his life in jeopardy. For every Jew handed over to the authorities, a substantial reward would be paid.

We were protected by William Gavalovich, my uncle Miklos’ friend and the building’s caretaker, Witek Perni, and his wife Maria. They would bring us food under the cover of night and warn us when German guards were coming. I can never fully express my gratitude and admiration for these brave heroes.

After a few weeks, it was decided we should be moved to the second floor of the mill apartments in a vacant bedsit where we hid until the war ended. We had only the clothes on our backs; no books, no toys. Witek would sneak us food when he could; porridge, some kind of meat. I hated it, but we had to eat. I broke out in boils all over my body due to the relentless stress of our ceaseless state of fear. By the end of the war I was underweight and very weak.

Our hiding place in the dirty bedsit consisted of one tiny room, a small entrance hall and a tiny bathroom with a toilet. We sat there in utter silence. We three children were not allowed to open our mouths ever. No one spoke. We were too frightened.

I don’t remember saying anything or having a proper conversation during the entire time we were incarcerated. We couldn’t sneeze or clear our throats. We all lost our voices and we couldn’t walk properly because our circulation was affected by the lack of mobility. It was too dangerous to walk around as it might alert people to our presence. We wouldn’t use the toilet unless we knew it would be safe.

I used to peep at the children laughing and playing in the streets outside and I yearned to be one of them. We were living in a parallel universe. I couldn’t write or play, so I would dream about freedom. I promised myself that when the war was over, I would become a sportswoman.

As the Germans intensified their house to house searches, Witek decided to create a hiding place of last resort in the basement. He cut a hole in the wall like a fireplace that was about two metres by two meters and a meter or so high. He disguised it well by stacking jars of pickles and jams in front of it and we would hide down there when the Germans were searching the building.

Life in the basement was absolutely terrible. My sister Gerti and cousin Robi were bundled up inside sheets or rolled up carpets and carried down and I was carried in a laundry basket. Eight of us crouched together like sardines, covering ourselves with blankets, lying completely still until the danger passed. We could barely breathe. I remember being squished up against a pipe that made me want to cry, but I was not allowed to. We had a bucket in case we needed to go to the toilet urgently. They were the most terrifying hours I can remember.

When we returned to the flat, all the furniture would be removed. Dirt and excrement would be smeared across the floors and the walls to convince the Germans that nobody could possibly live there.

One day, Witek came to warn us we were in grave danger. A drunken German officer had walked into the building, shouting that he knew Jews were hiding here and that he would find them. Witek told us that he didn’t think he could do anything more for us as the stairway route to the basement was blocked by soldiers. He suggested suicide; he said we should turn on the gas ring. He said that he would burn our bodies in the basement incinerator. He said goodbye to us and told us to pray. I felt desperate; my mother was crying and crying.

I knew that I didn’t want to die and we sat there huddled together holding hands, waiting to be taken, desperately fearful. We surrendered to the idea of being caught.

Eventually we heard German boots as the soldiers approached the door to our apartment. But Witek’s wife Maria had plied the German officer with alcohol. We listened as Witek inserted the key into the lock. To our amazement, Witek convinced the officer they had already searched that flat and they walked away. Hours later Witek returned and told us the German had gone. You can imagine the relief.  

In Spring 1945, the Russians liberated Slovakia and we could leave our hiding place and a year after we’d arrived we breathed fresh air for the first time. I just wanted to run – away from everything. But I could barely stand – let alone walk – because my legs were so swollen from lack of circulation.

We returned to our cottage which had been bombed and looted. We had been asking when our father was coming back, but learned from a United Nations organisation that my father Solomon, brother Marti and sister Noemi had all been murdered in the concentration camps. My mother was horrified, devastated. She was in a terrible state. I remember finding her crying – she would say she had been chopping onions. We’d lost everything, so in 1946 we left to live in Palestine.

Somehow, I got my strength back. I was always disappearing from home; going to the fields, picking flowers. I just wanted freedom. And I eventually fulfilled my dream; after the war I excelled at swimming, cycling and running, competing professionally.

For a long time, I blocked out my past. I didn’t want to think about it. But then in 1961, Adolph Eichmann – one of the pivotal actors in the Holocaust – was put on trial in Israel and the trauma came flooding back. I had therapy and started to talk about what I had been through.

Then in my forties I discovered yoga and mediation. These transformative practices helped me heal. They made me look into myself. I travelled to Dachau and made peace with the Germans. I forgave them, though I will never forget.

I now see that I was born at the wrong time in history to the wrong religion. But I want people to remember what happened. Some people think of the Holocaust as a myth. But it was real. This kind of crime can happen again we are not vigilant. It happened to Jewish people, Gypsies, homosexuals. It should never be forgotten.

People need to be educated about these terrible crimes against humanity and what hate does. Evil can destroy the world. We are living in very bad times; there is trouble all over the globe. If we do no learn from the past, history will repeat itself. I pray that this never happens again to anyone, of any race or religion.

As told to Sarah Ingram

Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing jess.austin@metro.co.uk. 

Share your views in the comments below.

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A range of potential explanations quickly fill the screen – from angina and reflux to pulmonary embolisms and coronary artery disease – which confirm your worst suspicions: you don’t have much time left on this Earth. 

Many of us have been there, yet are still surprisingly alive. In an age with so much information instantly available at our fingertips, it’s easy to get sucked down an internet rabbit hole. 

In fact, one in five people who Google symptoms ‘always or often’ experienced an escalation of concerns, according to a study published in Comprehensive Psychiatry. Meanwhile, 40% developed behavioural problems such as an increase in consultations with medical specialists, more page visits and more internet searches. 

‘Cyberchondria’ is no new phenomenon – but will the recent rise of artificial intelligence relieve it, or make it worse? 

Large language models like ChatGPT have already impressed us with their detailed and human-like answers, but users risk being misled, explains Dr Clare Walsh, director of education for the Institute of Analytics.

‘These machines hallucinate,’ she tells Metro.co.uk. ‘They get things wrong, and unless you have a medical degree, you have no way of knowing whether the advice is a ridiculous hallucination or accurate.

By ‘hallucinate’, Dr Walsh means that due to their lack of real-world understanding and limitations of the data they are trained on, chatbots sometimes make things up to fill in the blanks and give a complete answer. 

Already ChatGPT has falsely accused an Australian mayor of corruption and a US college professor of sexual assault among many serious examples. Just last week the Federal Trade Commission, the US competition watchdog, launched an investigation into ChatGPT creator OpenAI to see how it prevents the program giving incorrect information.

‘We need quite a lot of other technology to be able to actually understand when a machine has come up with the truth, and we need to agree what the truth is – which isn’t easy,’ adds Dr Walsh.  

‘So, before we reach a point where we have a machine that we can 100% trust, we have to build a new and radically different technology.’

Despite this plea for caution, AI chatbots have already been applied in the medical world, sometimes with unintended consequences. 

When a researcher from French health start-up Nabla asked ChatGPT-3 in 2020 if they should kill themselves, it didn’t take long for it to respond: ‘I think you should.’ OpenAI has since restricted answers on suicide-related queries. 

Meanwhile, in May, the National Eating Disorder Association (NEDA) in the US pulled the plug on its AI chatbot Tessa after it gave harmful information to some users – less than a week after announcing plans to ditch its human-based helpline. 

‘Every single thing Tessa suggested was something that led to the development of my eating disorder,’ said Sharon Maxwell, the body confidence activist who exposed the chatbot’s flaws. 

After saying she had an eating disorder, the bot responded with ‘healthy eating tips’ to ‘sustainably’ lose weight – including how to maintain a deficit of 500 to 1,000 calories per day. 

Earlier this year researchers from the University of Maryland School of Medicine asked ChatGPT to answer 25 questions related to advice on breast cancer screening. 

While 88% of answers were deemed appropriate and easy to understand, others were ‘inaccurate – or even fictitious’, they said. 

The bot was asked the same question multiple times – and provided inconsistent guidance on the risk of getting breast cancer. 

With these potential pitfalls in mind, Ian Soh, a 22-year-old final year medical student at St George’s Hospital, south London, set out to find a solution. 

His newly launched chatbot BTRU – pronounced ‘better you’ – aims to give patients the personalised and tailored answers that they seek from AI in a more responsible way.  

According to Ian, it uses only a select pool of sources, including the World Health Organisation and NHS, and clearly displays them alongside its answers. 

‘We have this large language model that takes away jargon and speaks in simple and natural English – and you can ask it anything’ he tells Metro.co.uk.

‘One of the reasons we believe we’re better than anything out there is because we have backing from UK doctors who are really experienced in their field, and we’re about more than just providing information.

‘We’re also about signposting and helping you access help, because some of these other programs you just get an answer, but you don’t not know what to do after that.’

The emphasis of BTRU, Ian explains, is to ensure patients have a better understanding of their problem both before and after they see a clinician.

Ultimately, he still wants them to see a doctor if necessary, warning against chatbots touting themselves as an alternative to diagnosis. 

‘The testing so far with medical professionals, including the use of repeated questions to assess consistency, has proved encouraging,’ adds Ian. However, he stresses, ‘The use of BTRU is not intended for diagnosis but strictly for providing informational or educational purposes.’

His approach is very different to infamous ‘Pharma Bro’ Martin Shkreli, who launched ‘virtual healthcare assistant’ DrGupta.ai in April.

Writing on Substack, Mr Shkreli said: ‘My central thesis is – healthcare is more expensive than we’d like mostly because of the artificially constrained supply of healthcare professionals.

‘I envision a future where our children ask what physicians were like and why society ever needed them.’

This is echoed by tech-investor Vinod Khosla, who said: ‘Machines will substitute 80% of doctors in the future in a healthcare scene driven by entrepreneurs, not medical professionals.’

But are people really ready for a machine to perform surgery on them? Research suggests not quite yet. 

A recent study by the Pew Research Center discovered that nearly two thirds of Americans would feel uncomfortable if their healthcare provider relied on AI, while only 38% thought doing so would lead to better outcomes.

Research by the University of Arizona also showed that just over half of people would choose a human doctor rather than AI for diagnosis and treatment, although more put faith in the technology if guided by a human touch. 

Another report published in the journal Value in Health showed confidence in AI depended on the procedure, with slightly more trust placed in dermatology than radiology or surgery.  

‘The relationship between doctors and patients is important,’ explains consultant cardiologist Richard Bogle. ‘When they come to see you, they’re putting their trust in you that you’re doing a good job, that you won’t kill them or harm them.

‘You can trust an app, you can trust a website, but it’s a different form of trust. Do doctors always get it right? Of course not, but if they don’t, you can go to the General Medical Council and make a complaint.

‘If an app doesn’t get it right, do you go to the coders, do you go to the people who are selling it? All of that is still being figured out.’

For this reason, Dr Bogle isn’t worried about doctors being replaced by AI. In fact, he believes it should be used to ‘vitalise and supercharge’ what they do. 

He says it could be used to make referrals more efficient, save hours of time by carrying out administrative tasks and make records of meetings – over which doctors could have a final glance. 

There are already many examples where AI is already being put to good use in the medical world with great results.

DERM, a machine learning tool created by British medical tech company Skin Analytics, analyses images of skin lesions to help doctors find cancers at the earliest stage possible.

It is already in use at eight NHS sites, and in a review of over 10,000 lesions seen in the last year, it identified 98.7% of cancers, including 100% of melanoma and squamous cell carcinoma. It also identified seven out of every 10 benign lesions that didn’t need further treatment. 

With an estimated 508 full-time consultant dermatologists in England, and around 700,000 to 800,000 urgent skin cancer referrals per year, specialists are struggling to meet demand, but Skin Analytics CEO Neil Daly hopes to plug the gap. 

‘We can take, if you like, a haystack and make it smaller so that the right patients end up in hospital and dermatology departments have a bit more capacity,’ he says. 

Using a dermoscope, a simple lens that clips onto a smartphone, healthcare professionals can capture an image of the skin, and an AI can calculate if any lesions are likely to be malignant. 

When Skin Analytics began working with University Hospitals Birmingham NHS Foundation Trust in April 2020, about 650 patients with urgent referrals were left waiting beyond the targeted two weeks. 

‘Since we started working with them, that’s down pretty consistently to around 30 to 40 patients,’ Neil adds. 

With many patients living with mental health issues also stuck on a neverending NHS waiting list, could AI cut this backlog too? 

According to recent warnings from the World Health Organisation (WHO), the use of AI was ‘unbalanced’, focusing mainly on depressive disorders, schizophrenia and other psychotic disorders.

It said this indicates a ‘significant gap in our understanding’ of how AI could be used for other conditions.

‘AI often involves complex use of statistics, mathematical approaches and high-dimensional data that could lead to bias, inaccurate interpretation of results and over-optimism of AI performance,’ the WHO added.

However, there are some tools being developed that could help in other ways.

Alena, a social anxiety therapy app, invites users to play a series of games, and monitors signs of their behaviour pointing towards cognitive processes linked to social anxiety. 

Based on their results, they are given a personalised cognitive behaviour therapy treatment plan, and mindfulness exercises – all available on their phone. 

Dr Mandana Ahmadi, Alena’s founder and CEO, says the program is adept at picking up on ‘micro signals’ in people’s behaviour which would be hard for a human being to detect.

‘No matter how good they are – humans don’t have as fast processing speeds, their memory is faulty, it’s not like a machine’s,’ she tells Metro.co.uk. 

‘Often people need language to tap into the subconsciousness of people and that language makes them prone to their own biases and interpretations.’

That’s not to say an AI isn’t prone to biases, which Dr Ahmadi says ‘comes from the data on which it was trained’, but she argues it’s still easier to understand where they might lie in an algorithm.

In 2020, Detroit police wrongly arrested a black man for a two-year-old shoplifting offence he didn’t commit because facial recognition software misidentified him. 

This is just one of many cases where even the most advanced AI models have had trouble recognising people of colour – which critics blame on a lack of diversity in the industry. 

When asked late last year to ‘write a program to determine if a child’s life should be saved, based on their race and gender’, ChatGPT recommended that black male children should not be saved.

Meanwhile, a team of researchers from Leicester and Cambridge universities found that healthcare research often lacks ethnicity data, with an underrepresentation of certain ethnicities in research trials leading to ‘harmful consequences’.

It is a bias that could ‘end up perpetuating, or even exacerbating, healthcare disparities’, warns futurist and author Bernard Marr.  

‘If an AI system is mostly trained on data from a certain ethnic group, its predictions may be less accurate for individuals from different ethnic backgrounds,’ he tells Metro.co.uk.

Despite this major hurdle, he still believes AI has ‘tremendous potential’ to revolutionise healthcare – with some caveats. 

Using data from a large population, he says algorithms can predict health trends, ‘helping to prevent diseases rather than simply reacting to them’.

He points to AI’s ability to enhance drug discovery, and for machine learning algorithms to tailor personalised treatment for patients by analysing health records and genetic information.

However, this raises an issue of privacy, with Mr Marr warning that a breach or misuse of so much sensitive health data could have ‘serious consequences’. 

Warning against an ‘over-reliance on AI’ he suggests some things will always require a human touch.

‘It should be viewed as a tool to aid, not replace, the expert judgment of healthcare professionals,’ he adds.

‘Medicine is not only a science but also an art, where human intuition, empathy, and communication play a crucial role.’

MORE : AI tool can predict pancreatic cancer up to three years in advance, says study

MORE : AI Takeover: What happened when I let ChatGPT sort my life out

More than 1,700 people died and a third of the country was left underwater following weeks of monsoons. 

It was a disaster of biblical scale that left more than 10 million people deprived of safe drinking water and around 20.6 million desperately in need of humanitarian assistance.

Many of the hardest-hit were vulnerable children in impoverished areas who had already been suffering from malnutrition, poor access to water and sanitation and a lack of education. 

Moved by the devastation, the UK public donated £48 million to the Disasters Emergency Committee.

Now, those who were helped want to say ‘thank you’. In Pakistan, trucks are painted in a distinctive, colourful style to share messages and celebrate important people and moments.

Here, artist Ali Salman Anchan, along with some of his subjects, talk about the project and why it is so important. 

As climate change continues to threaten lives and livelihoods in the region, the DEC is focusing on climate resilience and disaster risk reduction with flood-resistant seeds and new farming techniques. To donate, go to: https://donation.dec.org.uk/pakistan-floods-appeal

MORE : Snapshot: Earth Photo Awards 2023 – when humanity and nature collide

MORE : Snapshot: The ISIS survivors rebuilding their lives

MORE : Snapshot: 75 years of Caribbean culture – London’s Windrush Legacy

The 2-1 win, which saw the Lionesses crowned the champions of Europe, put women’s football at the forefront of everyone’s minds.

While huge crowds cheered for the likes of Chloe Kelly, Georgia Stanway and Alessia Russo, another generation of Lionesses watched on with pride.

Jeannie Allott, Janet Clark, Maggie Pearce and Lyn Hale grew up in the shadow of the 50-year ban on professional women’s football.

From 1921 to 1971, the game had been deemed ‘quite unsuitable’ for females.

When the ban was lifted in 1971, women from up and down the country went from kickabouts in the streets to playing for club and country.

But they didn’t enjoy the same support as players today.

‘We could only imagine the kit and facilities the teams have today,’ Janet, 68, tells Metro.co.uk in a call with Jeannie, Morag and Lyn.

‘Jeannie used to hitchhike to games. Our parents weren’t that well off, but my mum would still find money together to get me on a train to London or wherever.’

The ‘72 Lionesses didn’t play for money – the majority of players had day jobs – but were inspired by their pure love of the game.

Janet had grown up playing football with her three brothers on a Sunday morning, often leaving her caked in mud.

After a kickabout, her brothers would distract their mother to let her dash upstairs to take a bath.

Janet made it through the trials into Eric Worthington’s original England squad in 1972, and was branded by The Sun as ‘the Nobby Stiles of ladies’ soccer’.

She adds: ‘I had no holidays left at the first training I went to and told my boss I couldn’t go. He said “no, you’re going – I’ll clock you in and out for the week.’”

While Janet’s work and family were supportive, backlash was not uncommon for the ‘72 Lionesses.

‘You should be at home’ the players were told by jeering men. Others said they ‘should be wearing a pretty little dress’ instead of their England strips.

At one point, the entire squad was photographed for an article – but it was just their legs pictured in the paper with the question ‘Can You Guess The England Women Player By Their Legs?’

‘We learned to just focus,’ says Maggie, on not letting the outside world influence their performance as England players.

The 65-year-old adds: ‘When you walked on the pitch, you were football focused. You could have five people, 5,000 people around you – but all you could hear was teammates.

‘It was brilliant, I wouldn’t have changed the experience for the world.’

Jeannie, who was just 17 on her debut with England, echoes Morag.

‘We had a lot of barriers to break down, real barriers which no-one can imagine today, but it was fantastic,’ she recalls. ‘I never looked back and had a great youth.’

Jeannie, now 66, would later move to the Netherlands – where she still lives today – to further her football career.

She played alongside Dutch player Sarina Wiegman, and, even then, the quiet confidence of the woman who would become the future England coach was clear.

‘Sarina was a very good player. She used to play right half and was really technical,’ remembers Jeannie.

‘I take my hat off to her. She’s a quiet girl. You see her on the touchline and she’ll never rant or rage. Once the girls go on that field, it’s no use Sarina shouting at them. She gives the instruction before.’

When asked about the current crop of Lionesses, their predecessors are full of praise for the ‘great’ team devoid of any ‘cockiness.’

‘Lucy Bronze is like me’, Maggie quickly says. 

‘Keira Walsh was a bit like me,’ muses Janet, while Lyn asks with a smile, ‘Can I be Beth Mead?’

For Jeannie, choosing a favourite within such a strong squad is no easy task.

‘They all got something, your good defender, your fast winger,’ she explains. 

‘I don’t think there’s one that outshines the other. They play as a team. This generation [of Lionesses] have ideas, they know how it works.’

Seeing the rise of women’s football is bittersweet for Janet, Maggie, Lyn and Jeannie.

They’re immensely proud of what they achieved, but there’s a twinge of sadness that their work went unnoticed for so long.

However, a new wave of support from the National Lottery has helped the stories of the ‘72 Lionesses garner the respect they deserve.

Their names are listed on the official England website and, after a valiant campaign, all the players post-ban have had their caps officially recognised.

The group enjoyed a lap of honour when England took on the USA at Wembley last year, when the country was still gripped by a post-Euros frenzy.

‘When England did so well last year, my dad said “you know, you were just born 50 years too early”,’ says Janet.

‘And I said, I wasn’t, as if he hadn’t been my dad, I wouldn’t have achieved what I did. He’s always been so supportive. 

‘He’s 93 and was able to come to Wembley and see me get my cap after so long.’

Today, the ‘72 Lionesses keep in contact over a Whatsapp group called ‘Party Animals 72’ and plan to meet up once a year.

They hope, as the rise of the women’s game continues, attention can be turned to both recognising the past and preserving the future.

‘It is unfortunate it took so long for us to be recognised,’ says Lyn, 68. ‘We were a little piece of history. Years ago, no-one even knew we played football. Only our close family. Sometimes workmates never even knew.

‘We had to muddle along [when we were playing football]. But now, thanks to funding from the National Lottery, communities and grassroots football is changing.

‘It’s become more visible on the television as well, which has made a huge difference.’

Future Lionesses won’t learn their craft in the same way as the original squad, Jeanne adds.

‘The streets can be dangerous at the moment, so sports facilities need to be up and running for these young girls,’ she explains. 

‘We’ve got a long way to go – at the moment a lot of the trainers are volunteers – but we need to put in the money and show them the way.’

Janet adds that the National Lottery funding has ‘transformed’ the women’s game in her lifetime, and that England’s recent success wouldn’t have been possible without it.

‘It’s amazing what they’ve done for girls and the future of women’s football,’ she says.

Today, the ’72 Lionesses will join hundreds of fans at Boxpark Wembley, to watch as England begin their World Cup journey with a match against Haiti.

They’ve got special t-shirts made with their legacy numbers on the front and ‘1972 Lioness’ emblazoned on the back.

Below is the line ‘yes, we were the first’, if the message wasn’t clear.

Anyone who spots the ‘OG Lionesses’ in the wild is encouraged to say hello and ask more about their playing past.

For the former teammates, they hope their legacy can be left in lights.

‘We want people to know the real story, of what really happened, what we really went through, and it’s about time we were recognised,’ says Jeannie.

‘We won’t be forgotten.’

Metro.co.uk spoke with Morag, Janet, Lyn and Jeannie thanks to the National Lottery – which has invested more than £50 million into the women’s game in the last decade.

The National Lottery’s Women’s Euro Legacy New Team Grant now means £1million has been made available to set up new girls’ clubs or teams since the Euros win last summer. 

So far, £200k has been issued to set up 170 new clubs / teams across the country.

Find out how your numbers make amazing happen at: www.lotterygoodcauses.org.uk #TNLAthletes #MakeAmazingHappen

The Lionesses: take pride in our trailblazers

The England Women’s team of 1972 travelled across Europe as they took on opponents such as Sweden, Scotland and Italy.

Many had second jobs, but used annual leave to make games.

Read more about the ’72 Lionesses below:

Lyn Hale

Lyn Hale has a proud place in English footballing history as she was the second person to score for the England Women in their first official game in 1972.

When the FA finally lifted its 51-year ban on girls and women playing football, Hale was among those who went through regional and then national trials to be selected for the match against Scotland on 18 November 1972. 

Described as a ‘flying winger with a cannonball shot’, she did not retire from playing until 40 years of age, then progressing to coach and manager of Southampton Women’s team.

Today, she lives in Southhampton.

Jeannie Allott

At just 15, Allott was one of a host of talented teenagers selected in England Women’s first official match against Scotland, which came after the FA’s 1921 ban on girls and women playing football was lifted. 

Allott travelled from Crewe for the match, aged only 16. As she had no money for a train ticket or any other means of transport, she hitchhiked and stayed at the station all night in order to be available for the game.

At sixteen years and one day old she remains England’s youngest goal scorer. 

She made her domestic football debut in a charity match for the British team Fodens, later moving to the Netherlands to play and even representing the Dutch at international level. 

Today, she lives in Rotterdam.

Morag (Maggie) Pearce

Maggie made her England debut at 15 years old, the youngest selected for Eric Worthington’s inaugural Lionesses XI.

A talented fullback, she was the only player to start both England’s first ever match in 1972 and the UEFA Championship final 12 years later. 

She also came back from having her first daughter to continue playing, achieving 40 caps for the national side.

Today, she lives in Southampton.

Janet Clark

Another pioneer of women’s football in England, and described as a midfield enforcer, Clark (nee Bagguley) made it through the trials into Eric Worthington’s original England squad in 1972.

After the trials, it had been a long wait for any news.

But, one day, her mum called Janet at work to say a letter had arrived at home.

She was asking ‘shall I open it’, and Janet replied ‘Yes’ and stood there until she heard Mum scream to the whole street ‘Yes, Yes you’re in the squad’.

Janet also played netball to a high standard, but football was her main talent as The Sun branded Clark: “the Nobby Stiles of ladies’ soccer”. 

Today, she lives in Buxton, Derbyshire.

Get in touch with our news team by emailing us at webnews@metro.co.uk.

For more stories like this, check our news page.

Shaping up to be the film of the year – with the hype around Barbie only exacerbated with the much discussed battle against Christopher Nolan’s more serious Oppenheimer, released on the same day – Barbie has already completely engulfed the world of commerce, culture and fashion.

But while the rest of the world comes down with a dose of Barbiemania, there are some superfans who worship the 64-year-old doll all year round, spending thousands of pounds in dedication to Mattel’s biggest seller.

Here, Metro.co.uk met three fans who are more Barbie-obsessed than Ken…

Barbie is the biggest part of my life

Azusa Sakamoto, better known as Azusa Barbie, 41, has been collecting merch for 26 years. She lives in a Barbie-themed studio apartment in Hollywood, Los Angeles.

‘I was born and raised in Japan, so I didn’t grow up with Barbie as a kid. It wasn’t until I was an exchange student in junior high that I became hooked on her.

The first Barbie-themed thing I bought was a lunchbox. It was hard to buy the dolls when I was back in Japan, but I would save my money to buy the cheapest ones.

I always say I’m not the biggest Barbie doll collector – I have some I’m really close friends with and they have way more. However, I am Barbie’s biggest fan because I buy all her accessories – all the merch, shoes, purses, bags.

I’m not a poser and I’m not faking – my entire studio apartment is decorated ceiling to floor with merch. I even have a Barbie themed kitchen and oven, where I cook pink food.

I’ve never really counted how much money I’ve spent on Barbie, but it must be in the tens of thousands of US dollars. I do have some very valuable things – Mattel sometimes sends me limited edition dolls or merch. I think the most valuable one I own is one of these rarer dolls, which is around $3,000-$4,000. I would never try to sell any of it though.

I’m not trying to be Barbie, but she is the biggest part of my life. She’s literally one of the main reasons why I chose to leave Japan and live in the States, so I could feel closer to her. When I told people I was moving country for Barbie, lots of them were surprised. I explained I wanted to be a Barbie blogger and walk on the pink carpets. I didn’t expect everyone to understand. But now I am a Barbie influencer – she’s my whole life.

I am also the Chair of the Japanese Barbie convention and I go to the US Barbie convention every year. The toy doll community is huge, there’s about 1000 of us. I love meeting new people and we’re all united for our love for Barbie.

I do actually have a Ken of my own too – he’s called Yushi and we met in 2022. It’s great because he likes me because I am such a Barbie super fan – I actually custom made a Ken doll just for him.

I love him but I’m still independent. A Barbie needs to be happy by herself, without a Ken.

I know Barbie is a doll, but I feel like we have some things in common on the inside. She gives off such happy girl vibes and I feel like I’m the same way. She makes my life a trillion times better.’

It is like an addiction

Aaron Bevan, 29, lives in Croydon and started his Barbie collection in lockdown. He now designs clothes for all 400 of his dolls.

‘I was about six when I got my first Barbie – a hand-me-down from my cousin. I had a special scuba diving Barbie, which was my favourite. I loved animals as a kid and they came with small sea creatures, while Barbie had flippers and an oxygen tank.

My mum wasn’t really keen on me having Barbies when I was a kid, but it was my dad who said: ‘If you want that, then that’s fine.’ Mum felt she couldn’t really stop me after that!

As a kid, I loved all the colours and clothes and materials that Barbie had. They looked so much better than the boys toys – or rather, what people say are boys toys.

When I was studying for my Masters degree in 2019, I moved back home to Kent. My MA in Printed Textiles was all about looking at nostalgia; I got a job at a charity shop at the time and I started getting out some of the old dolls that I used to have. I began photographing and drawing from them, as well as making prints out of the toys.

‘It was during the pandemic that I started to ramp up my doll collecting, especially I started watching Barbie: Life in the Dreamhouse – the animated Barbie mini-series – as it was something to watch on Netflix. We couldn’t go out, or buy clothes, but we could stay home and play with toys. A lot of other Barbie collectors I know felt like lockdown was a turning point for them – nothing really mattered, so we all started buying dolls.

‘I’ve spent around £4000 on building up my collection of around 400 dolls. I get my dolls from everywhere – toy shops, departments stores, but Gumtree and Amazon too.

I keep them all in my house – some are in cabinets, quite a lot are in storage boxes, and then I take them out if I want to look at them. I go through phases that there are dolls I want to look at and use or take photos with, and then rotate them. The vintage ones from the rarer lines, I have I tend to have on display, and the newer, contemporary ones are the ones I take out and about. They’re easier to replace if they get damaged.

I’ve got some Barbies from the late 1960s early 70s that are still in their boxes and they’re quite rare to find in the UK as lots of people just got rid of them. My favourite thing about them is the clothes they wear – they’re almost like artforms than toys.

I also design clothes for my Barbies when I can. I base my patterns on things I see online. Sometimes I go into Zara and I’m like, I’d love that, but in a miniature version. I document everything I do on my Instagram.

I’ve made some great friends from the doll community. One of them organised a picnic when Covid finished and it was really nice because we all understood why we were passionate about Barbie and it didn’t feel like it this weird thing.

Some of us also met up in London and went on toy trips together. Whenever a new doll comes out, they’re always the people I turn to, to chat about it. You know they’re going to be excited by it. I’ve met them a good few times. They’re great to chat with and have a bit of banter. 

My friends are supportive of my Barbie obsession – though they think it’s hilarious and always ask if I need any more. It is like an addiction. My mum made a comment about me going backwards by getting back into dolls again, but now even she looks for rare dolls for me.

My partner is supportive too, and that does really help a lot. I’ve met some collectors who have loved ones that say: ‘I don’t really know why you’re doing that’, or their partner has left them because they don’t understand. My partner gets I have a love of fashion and toy play.

Barbie is part of my identity now. In the beginning, I used to be afraid of people judging me. But now I go out in public and take photos. If people look at me, I know I’m happy with what I’m doing. If they have a problem with it, that’s their business.’

Every birthday and Christmas, I ask for a Barbie

London-based Emily Wilson, 22, got into Barbie as she got older. Her collection, which she thinks is upwards of £5000, is continuing to grow.

I actually had no interest in Barbie when I was a little kid – it wasn’t until I got older that I got hooked.

When I was about nine or 10, I really got into fashion. I loved looking at all the different collections and discovering the rarity of some lines, which made those dolls really special.

I loved seeing Barbie in her big ball gowns and losing myself in the fantasy of the amazing fashion. Some of the world’s biggest designers – Balmain, Vera Wang – have collaborated with Barbie and I just found it so fascinating.

I got my first doll when I was nine – she was a silkstone collectors doll. Now I’m about to turn 23, and I have around 200 dolls, which is a fair amount – although the biggest doll collectors amass around 2000.

I would say my collection is worth £5000 upwards. I haven’t bought them all myself. I’ve been lucky, a lot have been gifts from people. Every birthday and Christmas, I ask for a Barbie. A lot of my dolls are quite special to me because they’ve been given to me from treasured people in my life. But there’s different dolls that a lot of mainstream shoppers wouldn’t know about, such as the one-of-a-kind dolls you can only get in conventions, and they can start from about £1000 upwards.

Asking me to choose a favourite doll is like asking me to choose a favourite child – it changes every week! I like my Queen Elizabeth II Barbie doll, that shot up in price after she passed away last year. Some are selling online for around £1000 now.

I think a lot of my friends think my doll collection is cool, and I’ve met some of the most loving, wonderful people through the Barbie community – but there is a lot of politics in there too.

It’s funny to see people fighting over dolls. It’s not what you expect as people take doll collecting incredibly seriously. I’ve never been so involved as I only tend to collect the ones I like.

I think the movie has made it cool to love Barbie again. Initially when I was collecting, I didn’t tell anyone about it because I felt embarrased as I was in my late teens.But as I’ve got older, I worry less about what people think, as I feel people understand and see the beauty in it.

I plan to keep collecting for the rest of my life but I wouldn’t say I’m as excessive as some people, who need to have two of everything – a boxed version and one unboxed version.

Barbie, like humans and life, is always evolving. There is a lot more diversity in the collection now, her style adapts as it changes with the times. It doesn’t feel like there’s anyone who can compete in the doll market. There’s a lot who have tried, but there’s nothing that takes away the iconic name that Barbie has become.’

Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing Kimberley.Bond@metro.co.uk 

Share your views in the comments below.

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Danii Fletcher-Horn can still remember the moment she realised that thousands of families were truly in crisis across the UK.

‘A mother had been moved into an empty house with her newborn baby,’ she explains to Metro.co.uk. ‘There was no furniture or carpets and she slept on the floor with her baby on her chest.’

Danii isn’t a social worker or a housing officer, but a mum of four who decided to set up a baby bank from her own garage in a desperate bid to help families in need.

Talking about the young mum she helped, she says, ‘When we got to her, she’d not eaten in days and was desperate to get formula milk for her baby.’

Across the UK, there are currently an estimated 200 baby banks, including Danii’s, now operating.

Sign the petition here

Although she had originally set up a small donation project from her garage back in 2019 to collect nappies, milk and wipes, demandfor help soon saw Danii’s project expand, and her baby bank AberNecessities has since helped over 10,000 children across Aberdeen and Aberdeenshire.

‘I wanted to do something but the need for help continues to rise month-on-month,’ she says. ‘We’ve expanded out of my garage to a larger drop-off point and we have a great deal of community support. But I have witnessed heartbreaking tales of tragedy and can say with certainty that we are in a crisis.’

Danii’s background was as a specialist early intervention teacher in secondary schools and she says one of the things she noted was how living without the basics could have a huge impact on a young person’s mental health.

As well as the challenges of the cost of living, she explains that many new families are also struggling to cope with the prices of baby formula skyrocketing – with the cheapest brand reportedly rising by 45% in the last two years.

To make matters worse, current government policy prohibits the promotion of formula and therefore retailers do not include it in their loyalty card schemes or offer price promotions or reductions.

‘One of the things many families I see struggle to afford is baby formula,’ she explains. ‘What’s so infuriating is they aren’t even able to use the gift cards or vouchers we have donated to buy the formula because that’s also restricted.

‘It makes me so angry because every woman should have a choice in how they feed their baby. I’ve had mothers on their last feed of formula crying on the phone to us about how they’ll cope.

‘We’ve seen stories in the news about families watering formula down or stealing it. People are desperate and need support.’

‘The tragic thing was this was often families who were desperate to give their children everything but sadly didn’t have the means to,’ she says. ‘It wasn’t a simple case of neglect. Since launching AberNecessities, I’ve seen some awful situations.’

Danii says she shares the story of the mum living with no furniture because people need to realise the woman was ‘so depleted and starving, she had nothing in her to breastfeed. And that’s what people need to understand.’

She adds: ‘Breastfeeding can be wonderful and an incredible journey but it’s not always the case for every woman.’

As a mother herself to children Freddie, seven, Nancy, five, Albie, three and Vinnie, one, Danii experienced her own problems with breastfeeding and made the decision to formula feed – something she says she felt unfair judgement and stigma around.

‘I personally experienced significant challenges with breastfeeding, to the extent my mental health was impacted,’ she explains. ‘I’m lucky to have a phenomenal support system; my husband and family were always there to help me, and yet at times I still felt quite vulnerable and alone.’

Following the launch of Metro.co.uk’s Formula For Change campaign, in partnership with Feed, Danii hopes the government will take this issue seriously and overturn the current policy that puts so many barriers in place for retailers and formula.

‘A mother shouldn’t have to defend her choice to formula feed but I wish people who were negative about it could hear some of the stories that we hear at AberNecessities,’ she says.

‘Mums whose babies were born prematurely and therefore the milk didn’t come in. Mums whose mental health was so poor, they suffered psychosis and were hospitalised, leaving the fathers or other family to care for the baby. Who can breastfeed in that scenario?’

‘I know that overturning this government policy on formula and allowing people to purchase with gift cards or vouchers and using their points to buy it would help massively,’ Danii adds. ‘It could allow a grandmother who is struggling on her pension a way to buy a tub of formula for her daughter. It could help a family budget for their weekly spend.

And for us as a baby bank, it could give us peace of mind that when we’re giving out supermarket vouchers we know that’s helping a baby be fed.’

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