I try not to wallow in self-pity and misery at everything I’ve lost or will never do due to MS but lately I’ve been missing my walk! Not the ability to walk (which I obviously get upset about at times) but my walk, that silent signature we all have.

Some people have a swagger, some sashay, some are heavy footed whilst others seem to glide along. Some women wear such impossible heals that they seem to have slightly bent knees, some carry it off and appear sexy and elegant.

Most of the time I’m too intently focussed on getting from point A to point B without falling over that my walk doesn’t cross my mind. I’m so delighted and relieved if I get to where I’m going without incident that I’m too busy silently applauding myself to be nostalgic but lately my walk has featured in my dreams.

I don’t appear in my dreams running a marathon or charging up steps in the style of Rocky Balboa but I do walk for miles.

This is a picture of me, walking towards The Fiancée on our wedding day. I’m carrying the umbrella with ease and could have turned round to talk to my Dad behind me without stopping if I’d wanted to! Nothing flash, nothing extraordinary, just walking and this is what I return to in my dreams.

I’m wearing heals that match my dress in this picture but luckily I’ve never been one for shoes like some women. I went through a Doctor Martens phase during my A levels (purple ones or cherry red) and favoured Addidas 3 stripe trainers during my University Brit-Pop phase (Park Life) but that’s as far as I went so it’s not the shoes that I miss.

Walking along, holding my children’s hands while we chat about our day or strolling along talking to someone on the phone. This is what most people take for granted.

That is all.