When I was two years old, I was involved in a house fire that left me with third degree burns covering 35% of my body (Picture: Charlene Lay)
For as long as I can remember, I assumed that I would be alone forever. That I’d never find love.
I never dreamt for one minute that I would get married or have children, because I didn’t think anyone would find me attractive.
See, when I was two years old, I was involved in a house fire that left me with third degree burns covering 35% of my body.
I can vaguely remember being on the top bunk in my bedroom with my four-year-old brother when the fire, started by an accident with some matches while we were being babysat, broke out.
But I can’t remember being rescued by a firefighter, or being rushed to Queens Royal Victoria Hospital, Northern Ireland, where we lived at the time due to my dad’s job in the army.
I was kept in intensive care for eight weeks and underwent numerous operations before coming home after three months, swarmed with dressings that needed to be changed regularly.
That was far from the end of my treatment though. I spent years returning to hospital for skin grafts and releases, where the burnt skin tightened up.
I was also diagnosed with epilepsy, which doctors suspected was brought on by the trauma of the fire.
Charlene before the fire (Picture: Charlene Lay)
The fire, and my resulting burns, completely defined the early part of my life. Because while at primary school, children were accepting of the fact that I looked different, at secondary school, people would stare and call me names, like ‘scar face’ and ‘burnt bitch’.
That was when it first dawned on me that there was no way I would ever get married or have kids. Because who would accept me for who I was?
While friends were having first kisses and relationships with boys, I wasn’t.
After I left school, I trained as a nursery practitioner and began working in a children’s nursery. They were innocent enough to not question my appearance.
However, I still suffered with a lack of confidence, daydreaming about what I would look like without my scars, all while remaining painfully aware of how different I looked.
I had heard about hair systems – sophisticated hair attachments that are woven into your hair that look more natural than wigs, and can be curled, washed and worn in the swimming pool.
Charlene was left with bald patches after the fire (Picture: Charlene Lay)
It would help cover the bald patches on my head – but the NHS wouldn’t fund them. Luckily, I was put in touch with The Katie Piper Foundation, which supports victims of burns and helps with rehabilitation.
Thanks to them, I had a consultation for my hair system and had it fitted in 2013.
They also helped me with camouflage make-up – like foundation but thicker and gave better coverage so that it evened out the texture and colour differences of my scars for my face too. I even got eyebrows tattooed on.
They sound like small things, but together, they made a huge difference to my confidence.
Whereas previously I’d hated trying clothes on in shop changing rooms because I would catch sight of my bald patches in the mirror, I now felt confident going shopping, socialising with friends… just living my life.
Charlene and Katie Piper (Picture: Charlene Lay)
In 2015, aged 24, I even felt brave enough to try online dating.
I uploaded a selfie, filled in a profile and soon got chatting with a man called Martyn, then 25. I was honest from the start about my scars because I didn’t want to waste my time if it was something that would put him off.
But he wanted to go on a first date regardless and in July 2015, we went bowling.
Dressed in a striped maxi dress and sandals, I was so nervous and butterflies danced in my stomach when I caught sight of him.
But conversation flowed easily between us and there was an instant chemistry. We didn’t talk about my scars at all.
When he told me I was beautiful, for the first time in my life, I believed him.
On our second date the following weekend we went to an Indian restaurant, the cinema and then for cocktails – and we shared our first kiss.
I was cautious, though, afraid this wonderful man was too good to be true.
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When he told me I was beautiful, for the first time in my life, I believed him(Picture: Charlene Lay)
But everything he did, proved he wasn’t. After eight weeks, he picked me up from the airport after a family holiday, took me away for the night and arranged a romantic meal out.
When he told me that he loved me, I couldn’t believe that he could. ‘Thank you,’ I replied shakily.
Part of me wanted to say it back but it took me a while to find the confidence.
After 11 months, a friend bought us a couple’s photoshoot for our first Christmas together and it was during that that when Martyn got down on one knee and proposed. I was so delighted, I cried while nodding my assent.
We set a date in 2017 and I couldn’t wait to start planning my big day – a day that for so long, I thought I would never have.
I even loved trying on wedding dresses, visiting six shops before I found a gorgeous A-line open-backed gown that I had small sleeves added onto, so I felt more comfortable about the scars on my arms.
We set a date in 2017 and I couldn’t wait to start planning my big day (Picture: Charlene Lay)
I don’t let my scars stop me spending time in the pool with my kids (Picture: Charlene Lay)
Now, Martyn and I have been married for six years and we’ve got two children, Bobby, four and Olivia, one.
I love being a mum, something that has also helped me accept my body. I let the children see me without my make-up and hair system, and if we are away on holiday, I don’t let my scars stop me spending time in the pool with them.
Once upon a time, I used to think that I’d never find someone who would accept and love me for who I am, but I’m proof that you can have all of that. Even if you do look and feel different.
As told to Rachel Tompkins
So, How Did It Go?
So, How Did It Go? is a weekly Metro.co.uk series that will make you cringe with second-hand embarrassment or ooze with jealousy as people share their worst and best date stories.
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When I was two years old, I was involved in a house fire that left me with third degree burns covering 35% of my body.
