Past & Present Tense

I've had a crazy busy couple of weeks, so please forgive my lack of blogging. The craziness started when I took past in a creative workshop and performance of the fantastic new play by Mike Dibb called "Present Tense". It is based on a short story by Celi Duran, and examines the lives of three people who have recently become spinally injured. The play is set in the late 1960's in New York and is a really powerful piece. I won't tell you all too much about the plot, as everyone involved is hoping it makes it to the stage. That way you can all come and see it without having me spoil it for you.

The weird thing is that working on a play about experiences that I had already been through reminded me of the journey of emotions that anyone coming to a disability has to embark on when they are given the big news. Although I have always been disabled, I did go through a spinal injury in my teens, and so found acting the part of someone newly disabled took me back to a time that I would rather forget. I hope that everyone who reads my blog knows that I am very proud of my disability and how it has shaped the person I am, a person I like (modest as usual). I know that without my disability, and all of the changes in ability that I have gone through I would not be who I am today. But I do tend to forget that it wasn't an easy journey. Early on, just after my spinal injury, I couldn't see a future for me at all. I was sure I would never find a lover or get married, had seen any chance of the career I wanted to pursue disappear and really felt that my life was over. I will admit I even considered suicide at a couple of points. I only stuck around as I still lived at home and thought it was unfair to leave the job of discovering me to my family.

Luckily, this reason for sticking around made me start to re-evaluate my life and future. I gave up on the steady job and family plans, and decided to just enjoy life. So began my crazy journey through the world of rock and roll, the media and some of the extreme things I have done. I look back on my life, and I'm only half way through, and know that I have lived the kind of life most able bodied people would be jealous of. One thing for sure, no one can say that my life has been the stereotypical idea of the life a disabled person would live.

The character that I played in Present Tense had a similar attitude towards coping with his disability as I had back then. If life threw something at me, instead of it getting me down or putting up with it I fought back. It started when I found I couldn't go to my local cinema in a wheelchair. I contacted the manager and within a few weeks a wheelchair space had been installed and a new level entrance was created. This spurred me on an soon I was fighting the good fight everywhere. I even started building my own wheelchairs because the ones I was given on the NHS were crap. The Present Tense me also did this. By the end of the week, I really felt like I had got back in touch with the younger me and I felt somehow reinvigorated.

Which was lucky, as after the play finished I met up with Jennie Williams, who is about to start up a new charity called Enhance The UK (website going online soon). It is run by disabled people, and they plan to offer help, advice and friendship to other disabled people. Jennie sees it as a tool to allow disabled people to help other disabled people do... well anything really. Whether it is finding someone to go down the pub with, a buddy to scuba diving with, someone to chat with about any problems or a source of advice on the myriad of stuff that comes with a disability. I signed up to help, with issues around sex and relationships (way back in the early 90's I did a load of stuff around this kind of thing on C4, and have wrote a few guide books and articles on sex and disability), confidence (say no more) and other stuff like access and rights. Hearing some of the stories of people that Jennie has met reminded me that even though Present Tense was set in 1960's America, the experiences of the characters are still really relevant. Frighteningly so.

However much disabled people have gained rights and equality over the past 50 odd years, the actual experience of coming to a disability seems to have stayed the same. Mostly because the stereotypes of what being disabled is have stayed the same. No matter how many people like myself, Ade Adipetan, Shannon Murray, Julie Fernandez, Mat Fraser, Gary O'Donahue, Liz Carr etc seem to break the mold, the world still think that disability equals the end of your life. I have no real idea of how we change that, as it seems that however many positive role models of disabled people exist being disabled is seen as a totally negative thing.

One day we might enlighten the general public about disability, but the most important thing right now is making sure that disabled people feel OK about themselves. Becoming disabled is NOT the end of your life. It may be a change in the future you had planned, but it is the start of a new life that can actually end up being more fulfilling and enjoyable than the one you left behind. I know that the life I would have had without the my wheelchair would have been no where near as fantastic as the one I had with wheels. So watch out for the Enhance The UK website when it comes on line. It's going to make a real difference. And keep your fingers crossed that Present Tense goes into production. Not only will you get to see me playing a hippy, but witness a piece that makes the audience question what they think about disability.

Another Busy Bank Holiday

After planning how to avoid that wedding, it seems that I got myself into a rut of doing things when I should have been enjoying the bank holiday. Instead of waving flags and going to a street party, I decided to rebuild my studio. The doors my wife and I decorated, in a very successful arty Jackson Pollack style, were ready to be hung and so we spent Thursday doing the ultimate nightmare... building an Ikea wardrobe. Now I've been through some awful things in my life, and met people who have been through much worse, but I am sure everyone will agree that the thought of putting together Ikea furniture fills them with terror. With only a little arguing we managed to get it finished and ready to fill with my collection of classic synths, bits of computer, set of electric drums, keyboard and mic stands, a classic video game called a Vectrex and loads of other bits of junk. So as the morning of Friday dawned, and TV became a no-go zone, I faced the task of moving my studio gear around, building some desks (from Argos by Hygena, very nice and much easier to build), setting up a collection of computers and their peripherals (so many blooming wall warts!) that I seem to collect like some crazy hoarder and preparing to dive into another horrific task... wiring up my recording studio. I have just finished today, Monday May 2nd at around 3.30pm. Only took all weekend.

While I am over joyed that I now only have to set up the software before I can start creating retro synthpop electroclash, and annoying my neighbours, the craziest thing about what I spent this weekend doing is that I had big plans for April 30th. That date is special to me, as it was the last day I walked back in 1981. I attended Gary Numan's farewell concert at Wembley Arena but during what was going to be a key moment in my teenage life, an even more important moment occurred. Unknown to me, my spine started to collapse and just as my teenage hero stepped onto the stage I was wrecked with agonising pain. I fought through the first half of the superb show, but eventually I had to find somewhere to lay down. So I battled to the back to this massive venue and watched the rest of the show laying a wall. I was so far away from the stage, after being in the third row (I was even in front of Trevor Horn!), that my hero was a tiny little stick figure. Getting home to Luton was another battle, but I was helped by my date that night. (Thanks Karen) I awoke the next day and was still in pain and found it hard to stand. However it was also the morning of my first O level exam, German. So I called a cab and went to school. When I arrived I found I could not walk at all and collapsed in a heap in the door of the cab. I was rushed to hospital and my life as a wheelchair user began, after 15 years walking with the help of a leg brace on my right leg.(Believe it or not, my school sent a teacher to my hospital and I took my exam in a side ward - and passed!) It transpired that the treatment I had been given as a baby for cancer had an unknown side effect, and caused my spine to be deformed and was too weak to carry the weight of my growing teenage body.

(aged 17 - A goth before it was called goth or what!)

Strangely I did not find becoming a wheelchair user a bad thing. Instead I saw it as a wake up call. I had spent my childhood being a very good boy. Hard working, very studious and well behaved. I was taking a pile of exams, and had over 10 job offers. Yet I hadn't done anything fun. I had always wanted to dye my hair, dress weird and go to clubs and pubs like most of school mates. Hey it was the post punk blank, and New Romantics were just starting out. As I recovered from major surgery and came to terms with a new life in a chair, the life that been planned for me no longer appealed to me. A good job with prospects, meeting a local girl, getting married and buying a house in the same street as my parents was were I had been going but now I wanted more. I wanted to grasp life by the horns and ride it for all it was worth. So I sat my parents down and told them that from now on I was going to enjoy myself. They supported me of course, as they are cool, and so I found myself living the kind of life I had only dreamed of as a walker. I purchased a couple of really basic synths and a drum machine, formed a band with my best mate at school and started playing gigs. I dyed my hair, had hair extensions put in and wore more make up than a nightclub full of girls. I began the life I now have. So I see that day, when I lost the ability to walk as a good day.

(on stage at the Electric Ballroom, on tour with Gary Numan 1991)

But in a way it is fitting that I spent the 30th anniversary of that day building my music studio. It was learning to play music that gave me a direction when I was getting used to my life as wheelchair user, and gave me the chance to end up touring Europe with my hero, Mr Numan, in the 90's and gave me the foot into the media, as well as allowed me to meet my wonderful wife. Music was essential to making me who I am, and I really hope that young disabled people understand that there are more ways to find a direction than sport. I hated sport as a walker, and truly found myself going "Hooray, no more sport!" when I was told I would never walk again. Music, art and creativity is an equal method to happiness and success, if not a better one. While with sport it is either win or nothing, artistic creativity is an end in itself. I never got the chance to release an album or get on Top of the Pops, which were all dreams as I began playing music, but I had a great time trying. Yeah, I didn't get the chance mainly due to discrimination on the part of the music industry (I'll tell you more in another blog), but I really lived the rock and roll lifestyle throughout the last 30 years. Maybe a bit too much sometimes!

As I look back on the last 30 years I do so with happiness. I had a great time, and created a Mik Scarlet that I would have loved to be as the spotty teenager who went to that Gary Numan concert. In fact if I had known then what was ahead of me, I wouldn't have told a soul that I was about to loose the ability to walk. No, walking is just a means of getting around, but the life I have had since that day has been a fantastic roller-coaster that I wouldn't have missed for the world. So now you know why I wanted to celebrate. The fact I didn't isn't a bad thing, as I am getting a bit old for all that partying. Instead I am now ready for the next 30 years. Studio set up, hair dyed, make up ready and a wardrobe to die for. All I can say is watch this space... anything could happen!

Busy Bank Holiday

I find myself with so much to blog about that I feel I may have to end up writing about nothing instead. I wanted to cover politics, that wedding, disability politics and a myriad of other things, but have had such a busy couple of weeks that I haven't had time. Now each subject has slipped to a position of equal importance and so I can't decide where to start.

I wanted to examine my recent experiences with various disabled people's organisations (DPO's) and how each one has different politics. What would this splintering of direction mean for the future of disabled people and our fight for equality? I also wanted to delve into what exactly we mean by "equality" and whether this fight might cause disabled people to end up worse off that we were went we found ourselves unequal. As a republican I am finding the way British society is ramping up the crazy as we run up to the 29th of April is obviously causing me to feel the need to write something. Just not sure how much of feelings I want to make known as everyone seems to have been swept up in the spirit of this "joyous" occasion. Then there was the whole question of assisted suicide that seems to have even found a supporter in the BBC. With Terry Pratchett making a documentary following a man's visit to Dignitas and claiming it to be a dispassionate study of the questions around the right to die, even though Sir Terry is a personal supporter of assisted death, those of us who who feel deeply against changing the current laws must make our voice heard or we will loose the debate. That's just the top three.

In the end I must admit I find myself so full of thoughts that I end up with my head spinning. Never the best time to write something that will exist forever in the ether of the world wide web. So instead I will knock out a short blog, with no rants or deep thought. No this time I feel just thought I'd mention that this bank holiday my wife and I have been busy building furniture for my recording studio. In fact we have been action painting some doors for a cupboard that will be the home of my unused analogue synth collection. Loads of fun throwing paint around in our living room, and they have come up great. So hopefully by the start of May I will have a studio that works and can start writing music again, after an age away.

Before going all arty, I did an interview for a new online magazine, called Sin Zine with the marvellous burlesque and performance artist Marnie Scarlet. I videoed the interview and it will be up on my Youtube page soon, and the Sin Zine interview will follow shortly too. I plan to do a series of these interviews, and put them online, so if you know anyone who you would like to see me chat with please get in touch.

Lastly, I have signed up to appear in the new Graeae show, Broadway Babes. It is going to be a crazy show like their famous Rhinestone Rollers show, but with Broadway musical numbers. I shall be dancing my way through a half hour set of classic musical tracks... and I shall be in drag! Yes all those years when I was a New Romantic, wearing tons of make up will finally come in handy. I don't think I'll be going the whole hog, mainly as I really don't have the figure for it. Instead I feel I'll be a kind of dancing tranny. Tee hee. Anyway, if you fancy seeing how it turns out, come along to the Greenwich festival this year and search us out. I'll keep you all posted when rehearsals start.

So I hope you are all enjoying the sunshine and are having fun this Bank Holiday? Today is the first day I've a minute to spare, and so I feel I may sign off now and go outside to soak up some sun before the weather goes back to it's default setting... of rain.

TTFN

Mik

The Last Taboo? Pain - Why does it hurt us to admit to it?

Chronic pain has been part of my life for thirty years. I have always had periods of pain ever since I was born, but after my spinal collapse at 15 pain has been a constant companion. In fact I grew to treat it like a separate entity, that accompanies me where ever I go, one that has moods and throws strops if I ignore it or forget to treat it with respect. Having said that, I do not let this awkward unseen friend effect my life and what I do.

Through out my life I have met other people who experience chronic pain, and have found that they have tried to find their own ways of living with it. The one common thread that ran through all the discussions was they wanted to keep the pain they were in a secret. No matter how much the chronic pain haunted their lives, everyone I spoke to asked me not to tell anyone.

A few years ago I worked with someone, who I shall called X. One day they noticed me wincing behind some filling cabinets, and seeing signs they knew well invited me for a coffee. We sat and chatted about our secret relationship with pain. They admitted that no one in our office knew, and they wanted to keep it that way. To be able to go to work they self medicated with a mixture of morphine, a legal prescription drug, and Amphetamine, an illegal stimulant. At the weekend they took a legal cannabis derivative and fell into a pain free trippy sleep. They were sure that if our bosses found out about how they coped with their pain it would be the end of their career. Years later I met another fellow of the pain, I shall call them F, and they coped with it in a very different way. They swore by alternative methods, and found that some worked to great effect. They also asked me to keep their secret.

In the past I have always tried to keep it quiet, and have even over compensated for something that no one else knew about. During my years working with on the BBC's From The Edge program I tended to be considered their "action cripple" and was asked to do the items that involved doing crazy things. I always said "Yes", even though I knew they would cause my pain to flare up to almost unbearable levels. I could easily have turned the job down, but felt by doing I would be letting pain control my life. I never told a soul.

As I get older I no longer feel the need to hide anything. As I tend to admit that I have issues with pain I keep finding that so many people I know have similar problems. They nearly all want it kept a secret. What is at the root of the desire to hide how much pain we are in? Part of it is not wanting to conform to the stereotype that disabled people are sickly and weak, but this is a secret kept from everyone, even other disabled people. Another factor is that look of sympathy that we get if we do admit to it. Recently I saw an old colleague from the DPU and we had a chat about the old days. When I told them about the amount of shoots I went on while in agony, I saw that look. I also wonder if we are ashamed of the pride we feel by fighting our pain. I mean the world around us seems to buckle under a head ache yet we battle through in agony. See, we're tough. I know how great it makes me feel mentally when I do something that my pain should prevent me from even thinking about. So maybe I still an action cripple, just an ageing one.

Last weekend I met a gang of wheelchair using action junkies and one by one they all admitted that they had issues with pain. These discussions led to them all admitting that doing adrenaline fuelled stuff was their version of self medicating. One of the great parts of meeting these guys was being able to talk about pain openly. Pain and embarrassing hospital stories, but that is another blog.

Whatever the reason, chronic pain seems to be one of the last taboos of disability. Until those of us who live with it feel we can come clean, we can never really be ourselves and if we do come out with the chant of "in pain and proud" then I think we'll find that we aren't as alone as we imagine.

Mother's Day Thanks

I just wanted to go on record as saying thank you to my fantastic Mother, Joyce. She has always been a wonderful mum, loving, caring and supportive. She has always been there for my brother Steve and me, and I am sure that growing up with the knowledge that we are loved unconditionally helped us become the people we are today. This is a photo of all three of us on holiday in Somerset, back in 1980. This is actually the last photograph of me (I'm the one in the middle) walking. The following year, my spine collapsed and I ended up using a wheelchair.

It's funny, but as you get older you gain an understanding of your parents that was beyond you when you were young. Recently I suddenly grasped how much strain it must have been for my Mother, having me as a son. Not only did she have to cope with her first child being born with cancer, but she was also told that she should not expect him to live beyond the gage of five. I obviously blew that prognosis out of the water, but it did mean that she brought up a child that might die at any point. Not only that but I did seem to keep being quite ill at key stages. Being clear of cancer for 15 years means you are totally cured, so when I was rushed off to hospital a few months after my 15th birthday it must have seemed like a cruel cosmic joke. Luckily it wasn't cancer, but it did mark a huge change in who I was and how I lived. Time and time again, life does seem to have thrown a spanner into the works whenever it seemed that my Mum could stop worrying about me.

So, even though my Mum won't see this (She is totally technophobic and has no computer) I felt I should tell the world that I am eternally thankful to my Mum. Through out my life I have had many people tell me that "It's all right for you" when talking about that apparent way I cope with my disability. I am always mystified by this, and even get quite cross as I do not see that I have some secret trick that makes a disabled person who actually loves what disability brings to my life. However maybe I do. Maybe being raised by someone who made me feel special for being me gave me the ability to feel good about myself all the time? That's my secret, the strength and confidence that my Mum gave me.

Thank you Mum.

Here's a poem I wrote for her. It's called "For Mum", and the photo is of her holding me while I was in hospital as a baby.

Epithany

I am writing this at 5.15am after laying in bed watching the green numbers on my bedside clock inexorably click forward for many hours, my head full of thoughts. I found myself unable to sleep after watching the Channel 4 program Katie: My Beautiful Friends, which I was looking forward to(see my last blog for why). However much I wanted to enjoy the show and hoped it would play a part in changing the attitudes towards people who are scarred, the show fell short thanks yet again to the use of language. The old clichés of bravery, courage and inspiration peppered the script, and as I lay there considering why C4 had gone down this road yet again, what I could do to explain why this kind of language is so damaging and who I could contact in the media to make my voice heard, I had a realisation.

Suddenly I not only grasped the reason why this kind of language had such an effect on disabled people but how the use of language tied our minority group to all the other minorities out there and how charities played a massive part in continuing this use of damaging terminology. I have already stated how language effects that way disabled people are thought of in society. The word brave, for instance, when used to describe some who is disabled leads the non disabled to a series of preconceptions about disabled people, their lives and what it is like to be disabled. It also creates fear that if they faced a disability, they might not find the level of bravery within themselves to be able to cope. Both these thought processes lead to a feeling of otherness around disability, and create barriers. As well as that it forces disabled people to either fit into the brave category, and so if they appear to be so by achieving some amazing feat or battling through with a smile or holding down a job then they could be described as a success, but if they do not do any of the above, not only are they not brave but they are also a failure. Language like brave has no room for explanation or exploration of experience. Disabled people face many barriers to opportunity and equality, and these can prevent people from achieving the acts of bravery and inspiration that the media craves from super cripples. In truth this is real experience of disabled people in our society.

I know that I have on occasion done things and acted in such a way that I could be described as brave and inspirational. In fact as I laid there in bed I found that if a described my life in the right way almost every moment of my life could become an inspirational story of courage in the face of adversity and triumph over tragedy. Actually you could do so for every living being on the face of the planet. Not just disabled people but everyone. We all battle against problems, we all face adversity and we all have our victories, no matter how small. You could use the language that is now used to describe disabled people to describe anyone. Especially other minorities. Surely aren't all ethnic minorities brave and inspirational to exist and succeed in society made up mainly of white people, many of whom are hostile towards people from other races? Doesn't every member of the LGBT community battle courageously a society of straights that see them as weird and different, and even as wrong and dangerous? Aren't religious followers inspiring to exist in a society that is turning it's back on faith? But then surely aren't those who do not believe also an inspiration as they reject millennia of doctrine? Even though all of these statements could be considered as true, we very rarely hear them used. The media would find itself in hot water if it did so, especially if it did it time and time again.

So why does the media feel it can get away with it when it comes to disability? I think the reasons are two fold. One reason is that there are not many disabled people working in the media at the minute. The majority of people in the media are able bodied, but more than that they are even more obsessed with perfection than society at large. We are always being told how the media plays a role in creating issues with young people around body image due to portrayal and have been recently reminded of the pressure on presenters to stay young looking, so it is obvious how they see and cover those of us who are obviously different. The media also is driven by the need to create stories. How many meetings have I been in where the air is thick with terms like "narrative" and "jeopardy"? They are so focused on whether the story has media impact they ignore it's wider impact. But then again, how would they know? In an industry with so few disabled people in it, then how will the majority of able bodied media types know what damage something as seemingly innocent as language can do? We all need to make our voices heard about how unhappy the use of this kind of language makes us. We all know what happens if TV presenters use the wrong kind of language about another minority, so why aren't we kicking up a stink when it happens to us?

I have found recently that the few disabled people that are actually working in the media find it hard to question the way the media portrays disability. Partly as they are ignored, but also because raising the issue can risk their jobs. I know how unpopular I have made myself in the industry on this issue, and know how that has impacted on my career. Maybe if we all shouted as loudly as I do on occasion then we might nip the current slide backwards in the bud. But I digress.

The second reason why words like brave, courageous and inspirational are used so often around disabled people is that this kind of language actually helps some people and institutions. Let's face it, however much last night's show was about the issues faced by people with scars it was also about someone trying to start up a charity. Charity needs donations to exist, and no one is going to give money to someone if they are perceived as being just like everyone else. If disabled people are portrayed as either brave and courageous, and so deserve charity as they are so inspirational, or tragic and pathetic, and so desperately need charity and support, then the cash will roll in. Charity is big, big business and charities that help disabled people are major players in this massive industry. So there is an incentive to continue the use of language that dis-empowers disabled people, all in the name of income. I must also admit that during my years in the media, many of my contemporaries have actually started up their own charities. They all claimed to want to help disabled people, and they also felt that it was time that this support should be provided by us and not for us. I have always felt uneasy about going down this path, partly because I feel that there should be no need for charity and partly because I mistrust the motivations behind such an act. However much I want to be believe the good intentions given I can't help feeling that this is in some way just a route to a more secure income.

Don't get me wrong, I don't feel all charities are wrong and evil. I am a patron of the Neuroblastoma Society, who raise money to research into the cancer I had as a child and support those families touched by it, and of the National Association of Bikers with Disabilities, who help get disabled people into biking. I also work closely with the Alliance For Inclusive Education as I believe that all children should attend mainstream schooling, as I myself did. What I do feel is that charities do need to play a more vocal role in fighting to ensure the correct type of language is used when discussing disability. They have to start using their financial muscle and political clout to explain to society as a whole why the language used to describe disabled people can be a major barrier to us, and in turn to everyone. Let's face it, able bodied people are just us the day before the accident or illness. Disabled people are the only minority to exist in every other group out there. If you get it right for us, then you get it right for every one.

Right, that's got that off my chest. Back to bed.

Perfection in Imperfection.

Tomorrow night Channel 4 airs the first in a new series called Katie, My Beautiful Friends following Katie Piper, the TV presenter who has facially scarred after an acid attack, as she meets young people who also been scarred. I haven't seen the show so I can comment on it yet, but this is a subject close to my heart. My wife Diane was scarred after she was scalded as a young child. She was burnt all over her right arm and her left side, and after a series of surgeries to ensure she could still use her arm was left with a scar that runs from her shoulder to her hand with other scars on her back and bum.

I met her when she was 18 at the Electric Ballroom in Camden, and fell in love with her straight away. It took me 6 years to get her to go out with me, mainly due to my crap chat up technique, and we have been together for nearly 16 years. She is one of the most amazing people I have ever met, both internally and externally. She is as beautiful on the outside as she is in on the inside. If I am truthful, I saw her scar on that first night at the Ballroom and knew by the way she had it exposed for all to see that she was going to be the girl for me. Not only was it beautiful scar (I must admit I do find scars sexy) but I could tell from the way she held herself that she was a proud strong woman. There was no apology or desire to hide her scar. She defiantly had it on show, and I knew it was to dare someone to comment on it.

I was right, and as I got to know her I witnessed just how weird people can be about scars. I have been disabled since birth, and thought I had seen it all until I met Diane. My first experience of just how hateful people can be was when a woman started screaming at Diane to hide her scar, from the other side of the street! This woman was offended that Diane was walking around with a her scarred skin on show, but what really shocked my was that this woman was black. For some reason I thought she would have understood how awful it is be discriminated against due to something only skin deep. But it seemed that anyone might feel they could react to seeing a scar in ways that changed the way I saw the world. Once a homeless man, who was sleeping rough in Soho, stinking of booze and urine with a dog on a string and who was also blind in one eye shouted out to Diane asking why didn't she just chop off such an ugly arm. The fact it worked perfectly didn't matter. Time and time again she would be the target of anger and vitriol purely because she did not hide her scar. Apparently this was nothing compared to the reactions of people to her scar when Diane was a child. What kind of person would try to make a child ashamed of being scarred?

But Diane was not only not ashamed, she was proud. She trained through out her youth to be a ballet dancer, and never let her scar stop her. Not only did she dance but she also acted in plays and films, and after we got together, she started modelling. She appeared in photo shoots for major magazines, fashion companies and publicity campaigns. We started up a band called Erotics, and began playing gigs all over the UK. She was the lead singer and was a superb front person. No one even commented on our female lead singer having a scar (although they did freak about me being a wheelchair user - so I have no idea what that says about the music industry).

What was great however, was that we gradually noticed a change in the way people reacted to her scar. Slowly it went from people reacting badly to truly positive. It became almost trendy. She did a fashion show, and a make up artist actually flew from Holland just so he could do Diane's make up. I can honestly say it has been years since some even mentioned Diane's scars, either to her face or privately to me.

I must admit while I am pleased that TV is actually doing something to confront the way people who have been scarred are treated in society, I feel it is really sad that other people are still finding themselves confronting attitudes that we thought had gone the way of other discrimination. I just hope that this show helps other people gain the strength and confidence that oozes out of my wonderful wife.

Personally I feel that only those who could be described as imperfect are perfect. I have mixed with all manner of so called "Beautiful People" in my life, and have found them all to be wanting. But not only is my scarred wife a fantastic, talented, stunning person on the inside, but her scar makes her even more beautiful on the outside. Like a work of art created by accident, medicine and nature. That is how I feel we should see all scars and deformity. True perfection lies in the imperfections.

Katie - My Beautiful Friends
The Katie Piper Foundation
Mik Scarlet Music Projects - Full Back Catalogue