Palo Barker

I’ve always been alone – involuntarily. I’ve been blind in one eye from birth and that has tended to be distracting to people. I have rarely had friends, only for periods of time – no doubt I lack the requisite social skills. My upbringing in a sexist male dominated Asian society that I was always conscious of being less worthy, less important than my brother. This caused numerous rows and angst – I was a difficult child. I was bullied at school, which I didn’t recognise at the time. I was the last one to be picked at games, and my so-called best friend gossiped and set me up behind my back. I guess that explains my deep distrust of others and low self-esteem.

Consequently, I disliked men, had decided in my teens that I would never marry and would pursue a career. Having seen a woman subjected to domestic violence forced to return to her abuser, the lesson for me was that I could not trust my own family to prioritise my safety over social expectations. I was also resentful of my heritage, it held me back career wise and I abhorred the sexism in my community and home life.

Falling in love with an Englishman was totally unexpected. I never expected it to last, everyone said it wouldn’t, but somehow it did. Eventually, after a few years, my family came round, but it clearly affected their social standing and how I was treated.

I learnt only recently, my mother asked every day why I didn't have children, but my father forbade her asking me. I was not close to her - too much unresolved anger from my childhood. In my 20s I didn't want children - I was afraid of being my mother. When we did start trying I became ill and my life fell apart.

I encountered discrimination during my treatment (refusing me more expensive treatment in favour of steroids and refusing any other options), the NHS also declined fertility treatment (I was told I was too old at 37).

When the IVF failed, I was in pieces. It happened but it was over 20 years ago and I have healed. I never thought I would be happy again. But today, at 60, I can say I have never been happier.

I have been mocked by my community for daring to marry outside, and I learned to stay outside of it. I've stood alone my whole life and I've made my peace with it. I've lived long enough to see the tide turn for mixed race marriages and they are now quite common in my community in the younger generations.

The thing with getting old, is you can see the finish line and when I’m no longer here, all my petty emotions, thoughts and feelings will be irrelevant. Anything I ever wanted, did wrong, or every failure – all will be meaningless. All anyone has is the current moment. The example you set can cause a revolution and make the world a better place, and the latter is all I wish for. If I have made a single person happy even for a moment, then I have done good. I know women in my community have benefited from my choices and that to me is priceless.

I don’t see myself as a representative – I  was never a typical Sikh girl (I made all the wrong choices), I never had boyfriends (that was taboo in my era) so I had little in common with other (white) teenagers or in my twenties (at university and then at work). I didn’t have children – so nothing in common with most women in my thirties and subsequently. Being diagnosed with a rare chronic condition in my thirties just emphasised my lack of belonging anywhere – by now I was virtually a social recluse (via illness). It’s only now I can embrace my uniqueness and genuinely not care (mostly) about it. I feel my 60s are a new chapter for me – one I can live on my terms, most of my demons are conquered. Old age holds no terrors for me, whatever happens I will cope and adapt.

I don’t think I have a message for anyone except maybe trust yourself and live in the moment.

I do know, with a much older husband, at some point in the future, the chances are high that I will be alone again. And that is ok. Another thing I learnt - I was always complete, whether Asian, single, childless or disabled - I was and am always complete and my happiness doesn't depend on having others or perfection in life. It was in accepting myself and loving myself, especially that lonely terrified girl who had no one.