Despair of facial disfigurement lifted by love

THAT face on the right is mine. So what do you see when you look at it, especially if we have never met? Go on, be honest. The truth won’t hurt me. At least not now.

I’m facially disfigured. In truth I’d like to look like someone else — Brad Pitt and George Clooney, ideally — but I’d have settled for a more normal face, less noticeable than my own. Just like yours. I’m 60 now, so I know that’s never going to happen. This is who I am, scars and all, inside and out. Physical scars are one thing, psychological ones something else.

Fifty-seven years ago last month, I was with my sister playing alone in our home. I was a fair-haired 27-month-old youngster, Lorraine one year and four days older.