‘Intimately Confused’- A Personal Essay by Sarah Vickery

“There I am on my 35th birthday it’s 7am with a cake on my lap bought online and delivered to my door, by said Instagram lover. And there’s my iPhone going to my ear… (insert naff Horror music here) it wasn’t sweat or sheets that clung to me but chills and layers of fear piercing every inch of my skin. This person I had been intimate with on so many levels began telling me that she had been lying to me.”