For 24 years, Chloe Walker lived in fear of falling victim to a gust of wind, lest the force of it disturb her strategically-placed fringe, revealing her forehead.

Since the age of 10, she had been self-conscious of her 9cm forehead, so at 34, she finally caved and spent £5,000 on reduction surgery.

‘I had a fringe put in and it gave me confidence, but it got to the point where I was too uncomfortable to go swimming with my kids anymore,’ says the mum-of-two, from Hornchurch.

‘Some people are uncomfortable about what they might look like in a swimsuit. I was just worried about if my hair got wet, if my head was on show.’

This insecurity was taking over Chloe’s life to the point she would edit the size of her head in pictures – even doctoring family photos she’d had taken with the kids.

‘I’d try to shrink it,’ she says. ‘I got married about three years ago and I still haven’t printed my wedding photos. I need to touch them up again.’

Looking back on her wedding day, the quantity surveyor remembers stressing about this feature in particularly, dousing herself in hairspray to stick her fringe down over it.

‘It didn’t move,’ Chloe recalls. ‘I’ve gone through thousands of bottles of hairspray over 20 years. I wish I did the surgery before then.’

It was this memory – coupled with the realisation her kids might come to think of her as unable leave the house without a cap – that prompted Chloe to go under the knife.

She initially considered a hair transplant to bring her hairline forwards, but was worried it would be unsuccessful and take too long to grow back. So in July this year, she headed to the Signature Clinic in Notting Hill, paying £5,000 for forehead reduction surgery that decreased it from 9cm to 6.5cm.

According to the clinic, the procedure takes about two to three hours and involves six weeks of recovery, starting with ‘marking and measuring the new hairline for a proportionate result.’

Next, an incision is made along the hairline and the excess forehead skin is removed, before ‘the hair-bearing scalp is repositioned to create a lower, natural-looking hairline’ and the incision is closed with fine sutures.

In Chloe’s case, recovery was difficult, and although she was initially pain-free, her forehead began to swell over the next three or four days.

She explains: ‘The pressure from the headpiece was unreal – I cannot explain that pain. I was really swollen.’ A week later I got to do my first hair wash.’

Regardless of the pain though – and not being able to wash her hair for a week afterwards – she couldn’t be happier.

‘It’s changed my life,’ the mother adds. ‘I instantly feel happier when I wake up. I feel free, like I can walk down the street and I’m a free person.’

And since then, Chloe has also taken to TikTok, sharing her story and documenting her recovery in order to ‘help other people who may feel the same’.

But social media hasn’t necessarily been kind to Chloe.

‘A lot of people are saying my forehead is still big and there’s no difference,’ she says.

‘I have had people say horrible things like, “oh if I haven’t got any paper I’ll just write my essay on Chloe’s head”. And I’ve been called spam-head.

‘That’s bothered me but then I think, “I know I’ve had 2.5cm removed so there’s not much they could have done and I need to accept this is me now”.’

While Chloe still sometimes looks in the mirror and thinks her forehead is too large, she tries to remind herself that it’s smaller since the surgery.

‘I need to just embrace who I am now,’ she explains. ‘I was getting to the point where I was a bit self-conscious to go out as much so I needed something instant. I was shutting myself away.’

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With a fourth heatwave in the UK bringing temperatures of up to 30°C or even higher, we’re in for some humid nights in the coming days, which could make sleep challenging.

‘A drop in heart rate and drop in core temperature are part of the process the body goes through when readying for sleep,’ explains sleep expert James Wilson (aka The Sleep Geek). ‘The hot weather impacts on our ability to do both.’

You’re probably already feeling sluggish from the week’s weather, but as the heatwave reaches its crescendo this week, we asked the experts what they’ll be doing to get some much-needed rest.

Allow the air to flow

While keeping the windows in your bedroom open might be fairly obvious if the room is warm, James advises that keeping your room door open and windows in other rooms of your home will allow more air to flow around the space – and keep everything as cool as possible:

‘Ensure there is a good airflow through the house so open windows on both side to allow the air to pass through.’

Breathe through your nostrils

Speaking of air flow, how you breathe can make a big difference, according to sleep expert, physiologist and author Dr Nerina Ramlakhan 

‘Nasal breathing is naturally more cooling and helps calm the nervous system,’ she tells Metro. ‘Practise it during the day, even while walking or shopping, so it becomes second nature at night.’

Have a warm (not cold) shower before bed

A freezing cold shower might seem like the perfect power move for those who can bear it, but Nerina says lukewarm is the way forwards.

‘A shower or bath before bed can help lower your core body temperature, especially if you get your head or hair wet,’ she says. ‘Just be sure it’s not too cold – extreme temperatures can be stimulating.’

Or, James suggests: ‘Put lukewarm water in a hot water bottle and place the soles of your feet on it. This will raise your temperature slightly and then it will drop, helping your body prepare for sleep.’

Choose your pillows carefully

‘Even your pillow material can have an impact on your sleep in the summer,’ explains Deirdre McGettrick, home expert, co-founder and CEO of ufurnish.com.

‘Opt for down filled pillows as these are light and fluffy and more breathable than those with a synthetic fill, making them perfect for summer.

‘You can also choose a pillow designed specifically for cooling such as those made with cooling gel or ventilated memory foam which will help dissipate the heat throughout the night.’

Keep the heat out

‘Close blinds and curtains in rooms that are exposed to direct sunlight. The shade will help the room stay cooler,’ James says.

It’s important to do this early on in the day, so that when the sun is at its highest and hottest in the middle of the day, the rooms in your home stay as cool as possible.

Freeze your sheets

It sounds obvious but keeping your sheets cool will keep you cool too.

‘Place your bed sheets and pillowcases in sealed plastic bags and put them in the freezer for a few minutes before bedtime,’ Deirdre suggests.

‘Take them out just before going to bed and you’ll get instant refreshing coolness as you drift off to sleep.

 Turn your fan into DIY air conditioning

‘If using a fan, place a bowl of chilled water in front of it to cool the stream of air it is pushing round the room,’ James advises. 

Alternatively, we’ve also tried placing a bowl of ice cubes in front of a fan and it’s had the same effect – instantly cooling the air being moved by the fan.

Invest in a cooling mattress topper

Deirdre advises: ‘Choose a mattress topper made of gel-infused foam or latex as these are designed to regulate temperature and keep you cool throughout the night.’

Try not to overthink it

James says that the ‘biggest thing that prevent us sleeping in hot weather is the thought “I am too hot to sleep”’ 

‘My advice would be to accept that you might not sleep quite as well, but that it will probably be over in a couple of days and your body will more than likely make up for the poor sleep by giving you better quality sleep.’ 

So, if you can help it, try not to think about it too much. Listen to calming music, a podcast, or an audio book to help take your mind off the heat and help you drift off to sleep. Avoid watching TV or looking at something on a screen, as this will keep you awake for a whole different reason!

This article was first published in June 2023 and updated in August 2025.

When we talk about trauma, we often mention the three well-known responses: fight, flight or freeze. 

It’s the idea that everyone has an instinctive survival mechanism to confront (fight), escape (flight) or become immobile (freeze) to a potential threat or danger. 

However, there’s a fourth type of survival response that’s often overlooked: fawning. It’s a type of extreme people-pleasing behaviour where people appease abusers to avoid conflict. 

It’s not a new concept, but it’s becoming increasingly apparent among Gen Zers – those born between 1997 and 2012 – and social media has a lot to answer for it. 

That’s according to Chartered Psychologist and Trauma Specialist Dr Ravi Gill, who has noticed many of her Gen Z clients exhibiting people pleasing or ‘fawning’ behaviours.

‘It’s about protecting themselves in a world where so much of their life plays out online,’ she tells Metro.

‘Many grew up on social media, where constant visibility and public feedback make likability feel like survival. Appeasing or agreeing becomes a low-risk way to avoid online backlash.’

Fawning was first coined by psychotherapist Pete Walker in his 2013 book Complex PTSD: From Surviving to Thriving. 

He described it as ‘seeking safety through appeasing the needs and wishes of others’ and says it stems from a lack of emotional nurturing in childhood, which creates an extreme self-sacrificing personality. 

Sound familiar? Here’s how to tell if you’re a Fawner, and what to do about it. 

What is fawning?

According to Dr Ravi Gill: ‘Fawning is a trauma response in which a person instinctively seeks to please, appease or accommodate others to avoid conflict, rejection or perceived danger.’

Fawners might seem hyperagreeable, but it’s less about genuine agreement and ‘more about self-protection learned in unsafe or unpredictable environments’. 

These types of tendencies are developed as a learned survival strategy. Dr Gill adds: ‘It’s a way to secure safety, approval or belonging in environments where conflict, rejection or disapproval feel threatening.’

There are several reasons why people might adopt fawning as a survival response and childhood experiences can play a big part. 

‘Growing up in a home where love or acceptance was conditional, or where conflict was unpredictable, can teach children to minimise their own needs to keep the peace,’ says Dr Gill.

Past experiences of rejection, bullying or abuse can also play a part, hardwiring the instinct to appease as a way to avoid further harm.

Gen z and fawning 

Gen Z may be particularly susceptible to fawning due to many of them growing up in a digital world. You could call it a more extreme manifestation of the Gen Z stare.

The combination of messaging apps, social media DMs, emails and group chats means requests are just a ping away. Being online can be confused with being available, making it harder to say ‘no’ to things.

Dr Gill describes it as a ‘learned adaptation to a hyper-connected, high-stakes social environment’. 

Then there’s the social conditions they’ve grown up with. Dr Gill explains that entering adulthood during a period of instability (the pandemic, housing crisis, cost of living, the list goes on) heightens the instinct to maintain alliances and avoid social exclusion.

The therapist has seen many examples of fawning in her clients, including one who ‘is always double checking that her friends aren’t upset with her or apologising for things that she hasn’t done’.

She adds: ‘People pleasing isn’t about weakness, it’s an adaptive behaviour that once kept someone safe or connected, but can become limiting when it overrides authenticity and self-care.’

How to stop Fawning

Avoiding Fawning isn’t as simple as flipping a switch, Dr Gill says it’s about ‘retraining your nervous system and mindset’, so you can stay truthful to yourself without feeling unsafe. 

To do so, she suggests paying attention to trigger moments, for example, when you agree, apologise or soften your opinion out of fear, rather than choice. 

She adds that it’s important to get used to disagreeing. ‘Practise saying “no” or expressing a different view in low-stakes situations to teach your brain that conflict doesn’t always mean rejection.’

It’s also important to set boundaries, deeciding in advance what you will and won’t accept in relationships and sticking to those limits.

Don’t expect to let go of these old patterns overnight, though. Dr Gill recommends seeking external support to help. 

‘Trauma-informed therapies like somatic experiencing and CBT can address the root causes and help you respond differently under pressure.

‘Over time, these practices replace automatic appeasement with intentional and self-respecting choices.’

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Get in touch by emailing MetroLifestyleTeam@Metro.co.uk.

Asking her daughter Hayley* to look away while she’s injected is the hardest part of Emma’s week. There’s always a wince of pain and sometimes tears.

But Emma* isn’t giving Hayley jabs through necessity – the 13-year-old is perfectly healthy. Instead, she is injecting her daughter with Mounjaro which she bought over the internet after lying about who it’s for.

‘We’ve tried everything to get Hayley’s weight down. Diets don’t work, she exercises but it never changes her weight and she’s miserable about her size compared to her friends,’ explains Emma, 43.

‘Our GP always suggested diet and exercise, but that hasn’t been that helpful at all. Mounjaro is a last resort, yes, but it’s working and she’s already lost almost a stone.’

At 5ft 4in and 80kg, Hayley is obese according to the NHS BMI calculator, but with a BMI of 30.3 she doesn’t qualify on the NHS for the weight loss injections which are costing Emma, a teaching assistant from Plymouth, hundreds of pounds.

According to NHS statistics, the teenager is one of 15% of children aged between 2 and 15 who are living with obesity in the UK. 

While some NHS Trusts approve sameglutide GLP1 injections for children and teenagers, Psychologist Dr Carolyne Keenan is horrified by Emma’s actions and says that illegally buying these drugs online could be catastrophically damaging for a child’s mental health.

‘When considering pharmacological interventions, it is crucial that these are closely monitored by doctors and delivered on a case-by-case basis,’ she explains.

‘Children are still developing physically and emotionally, and any medication must be used with great caution. Identity formation during childhood and adolescence is deeply tied to body image and self-worth. Introducing weight loss injections could inadvertently reinforce harmful beliefs about food and body image, leading to long-term issues with self-esteem and disordered eating patterns.’

While it’s estimated around 2.6% of teens in the UK are living with an eating disorder – an increase from 0.5% in 2017 – Dr Keenan warns weight loss jabs for teens will have long term effects, whether they’re prescribed or bought illicitly online.

‘We’ve seen the negative consequences of well-intentioned but poorly managed approaches in the past. In the 1990s and early 2000s, the US trend of sending children to “fat camps” aimed to tackle weight concerns through intensive diet and exercise regimes was popular,’ she explains. ‘However, many of those children reported long-lasting shame, body dissatisfaction, and unhealthy relationships with food as a result.’

While Emma has decided to keep Hayley’s injections a secret from her extended family, the mum strongly believes she’s doing the right thing.

‘Hayley was so low about her weight for years. She’d cry and get upset that she couldn’t buy or wear the same clothes as her friends because of her weight,’ she remembers. ‘That’s changing now. I’m losing the sullen, quiet, sad teenager and she’s growing in confidence, that’s the only measure I need that I’m doing the right thing.’

The teenager tells Metro that she hasn’t told her friends about her injections either. ‘It was my idea and I asked Mum if we could look into it. I was a bit worried about being injected and I couldn’t do it myself but I love the fact I’m losing weight,’ she adds. ‘My friends have all noticed and are complimenting me on it which feels really nice.’

Psychologist Dr Joanna Silver – who specialises in eating disorders – says weight loss jabs aren’t the right answer for children like Hayley who need help improving their own body image. ‘It makes sense to want to ease your child’s pain, but before trying medication, it is important to find out why your child is struggling,’ she explains.

‘Have they faced bullying? Do they feel ashamed of their body? Are they using food to handle emotional pain? GLP1s might help with weight but they don’t fix the deeper emotional issues. The best way is a team approach that includes psychological support.

‘Giving medication without knowing the root of their pain can make shame worse and suggest the body is the problem. Similarly, leaving children with insecure body issues is worrying. We need to help children find healthy coping mechanisms to manage their challenges.’

Weight loss injections were approved by NHS watchdog the National Institute for Clinical Excellence in 2022 and figures from last December show over 500,000 people in the UK are using the jabs with a staggering 95% percent of them buying the medication online like Emma does. 

Nutritionist Marcelle Rose tells Metro that she’s witnessing more people who have decided to ditch the weight loss injections after ending up with mental health issues as a consequence of their use. ‘I’m seeing an increase in clients who have tried these medications and stopped due to side effects,’ she says.

“Once discontinued, many experience rapid weight regain and a sense of feeling completely out of control around food. Their body image often deteriorates because they were sold the idea that the injection would solve all their problems.

‘More worryingly, I’m beginning to see people who became addicted to the weight loss itself. For some, the sense of control or validation they felt led them to push their weight lower and lower and they’ve ended up with an eating disorder.’

While Emma insists this isn’t the situation for her daughter, she is aware of potential issues. ‘I know Hayley’s confidence and self-esteem improvements have come from her weight loss,’ she admits.

‘While I love how happy she is, I don’t like that it’s tied to her body image but then she’s not alone in that – we all feel more confident when we look good.

‘I’ve never bought up her weight with her, we only ever talk about it if she raises it and make sure I praise her for other things outside of her appearance. When she said she wanted to try them I did a lot of research online and yes, I had to pretend they were for me, but they’re from a reputable online chemist.’

Emma adds that she hasn’t thought too much about what they’ll do when Hayley gets to her target weight. ‘We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. I know we can go down to a maintenance dose but at some point she’ll have to come off them all together,’ she explains.

‘Right now, I make sure her diet is as healthy as I can and we exercise together, so I hope the injections are enough of a reset that maybe coupled with a growth spurt, she’ll never put the weight back on.’

However, regardless of Hayley’s well-meaning intentions, Dr Keenan warns that any parents thinking of getting weight loss injections illegally for their children should exercise extreme caution. ‘

Addressing childhood weight issues, particularly through medical interventions like weight loss drugs, is highly complex and must be approached with sensitivity and a strong, evidence-based framework,” she says.

‘For weight loss injections to have genuine long-term benefits for children, they would need to be integrated into a multidisciplinary care plan.’

*names have been changed to protect identities

‘Have you ever thought about getting pregnant?’

Emma Prach froze. She was just 17, her hair streaked with purple from experimenting at school, and unsure if she even wanted kids. 

But according to the doctor, having a baby could stop her endometriosis pain, which caused her to regularly vomit, cry and pass out.

‘The suggestion took my breath away’, Emma, now 21, tells Metro. ‘I felt so hopeless.’

An investigation by Metro can reveal that more than three quarters of women with endometriosis have been told to get pregnant by doctors. The condition impacts 1.5million women in the UK.

The finding comes despite the fact there is no clinical evidence to support pregnancy as a long-term solution.

In partnership with Endometriosis UK, Metro surveyed 1,073 women with endometriosis and found 79% with the debilitating condition were given this same solution, a figure the charity has labelled a healthcare ‘scandal’.

With no helpful medical advice, Emma wiped smudged makeup from her eyes and took the three-hour bus ride home to Lanarkshire.

Now, four years later, she relies on strong, painkillers such as naproxen and co-codamol to take the edge off.

It was a solution also offered to me at the age of 21, a year after my own diagnosis. My pain was so bad I would fall over when sharp lightning pains shot up my sides.

‘Just get pregnant,’ my gynaecologist said. ‘It stops the pain because you won’t get a period.’

I left my appointment and cried hysterically in the hospital car park, feeling utterly defeated. I’d waited weeks for that advice, and wasn’t even offered pain killers.

But being pregnant doesn’t put a stop to your symptoms, as Angie Newland, 52, discovered.

She’d had her first baby at 24 after doctors said she’d likely struggle to conceive due to her endometriosis, which causes fertility issues in around 30% of women.

‘Doctors said I wouldn’t be able to have children if I left it any longer because of how severe my endometriosis was,’ Angie tells Metro. ‘My pain didn’t stop straight away, and once I gave birth the pain when my periods started again was horrendous.

‘I tried the Mirena coil, HRT patches, tablets – nothing worked. So a consultant said to me “well, just have another baby”.’

‘I was absolutely horrified, having a baby didn’t improve my endometriosis, it actually made it 10 times worse,’ Angie adds.

‘Not only was I trying to raise my little girl, but I was also trying to cope with my endometriosis. It wasn’t manageable.’

Finally Angie underwent a hysterectomy at 30 which put a stop to her symptoms, and she now volunteers four hours a week on the Endometriosis UK helpline to support other women.

Doctors haven’t received endometriosis education

Pregnancy being pedalled as a cure or painkiller for the condition is likely a result of poor knowledge among doctors.

‘Pregnancy does not take the endometriosis away – there is no cure and pain can return after giving birth when your period returns,’ explains endometriosis specialist practitioner, Jo Hanley.

‘The majority of medical students are introduced to endometriosis as a part of wider gynaecology training, which is often far too simplistic, failing to cover the complexities, challenges and impact of the condition.’

She tells Metro specific endometriosis training isn’t mandatory for GPs, pharmacists, nurses and A&E workers, who are all points of contact for sufferers.

It’s not surprising almost half of all women visited their GP 10 or more times with symptoms prior to receiving a diagnosis, or that 52% visited A&E at least once, with fewer than a fifth being referred to gynaecology upon their first visit.

It’s also not mandatory for a hospital to have an accredited endometriosis centre which specialise in providing ‘high-quality care to women’ with the condition.

Jo believes this lack of education and suggestion of pregnancy as a solution to pain is ‘insensitive’ and ‘adds unnecessary pressure’ to patients who may not wish to have children at that time, or ever, as well as those struggling with their fertility’.

While 60 to 70% of women with the condition will be able to conceive naturally, a third of women may struggle with infertility or need to use alternative methods. The miscarriage rate also increases from one in five to one in four for women with endo.

What do healthcare professionals have to say?

Endometriosis UK is calling for all healthcare practitioners including GPs, gynaecologists and A&E staff to receive mandatory education on the condition. Faye Farthing, from the charity, tells Metro: ‘As one of the most common gynaecological conditions in the UK, it is a scandal that there continues to be such poor awareness and understanding of endometriosis.’

Metro’s findings were put to the Department of Health and Social Care (DHSC) and NHS England and both agreed pregnancy wasn’t a legitimate solution.

‘It’s unacceptable women are being given incorrect and inappropriate advice,’ a DHSC spokesperson tells Metro. ‘Women deserve to have it taken seriously, not dismissed and told to go get pregnant.’

DHSC said NICE guidelines had been updated to aid faster diagnoses, and £80 million has been invested to give GPs faster access to specialist gynaecology advice.

Dr Sue Mann, national clinical director in women’s health for NHS England, adds: ‘It’s unacceptable – no-one should be advised pregnancy as a medical treatment, it should only ever be a choice, made if, and when, a woman decides to – with the role of a clinician to facilitate informed choice.

All medical students graduating from this year (2024/25) onwards now must pass the General Medical Council’s Medical Licensing Assessment, which contains women’s health topics, including endometriosis.

It’s little reassurance for Emma, who still relies on hot water bottles to ease her pain. ‘I’ve been left with nothing,’ she says. ‘I’m not on any treatments right now, and the doctors actually discharged me from their care without telling me.

‘It was crazy that, when I was looking for support, I was offered something that quite literally takes over your life.’

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Get in touch by emailing MetroLifestyleTeam@Metro.co.uk.

It’s the early hours of the morning, and I can’t fall asleep. My mind is racing with thoughts of the darkest kind. 

I have battled with mental health problems for most of my life, having been diagnosed with autism, anxiety disorder and OCD at age 14. Being heavily bullied in school also dented my self-esteem and even resulted in me trying to take my own life.  

While regular sessions with a psychologist helped me to navigate these complicated feelings as a child, when I turned 18, the appointments stopped even though I was still gripped by depression.

As an adult, counselling was a great help, but I realised it wasn’t always to hand as quickly as I needed, due to NHS waiting lists being extremely long.  

Cue AI therapy, where data and users behaviour patterns are analysed so a bot can ask questions, offer advice, and suggest coping mechanisms to someone who might want it.

Understandably, it’s a practice cloaked in controversy. After all, can technology, no matter how intelligent, really support someone through any sort of mental health crisis? Is it safe? Is it even ethical? 

With all these questions swirling in my mind, as someone open to new ways of support, I decided to give it a try and downloaded Wysa, a chatbot that uses AI to provide mental health advice and support around the clock. The app is completely anonymous and free, but offers a paid-for plan with additional premium features, such as therapeutic exercises, sleep stories and meditations. 

Telling all to a robot

I’ve always struggled with self-doubt. I am constantly comparing myself to my non-identical twin brother, who I think is better looking than me, and experiencing a bad eczema flare-up this week has really affected my self-esteem. 

I admit this to my bot who is incredibly empathic, saying it is sorry to hear of my low self-esteem before asking me how my feelings impact my day-to-day life. 

I respond by saying I feel like I have no choice but to isolate myself from the outside world, which is hard because I don’t see my family and friends for days — sometimes weeks — on end, even though seeing my loved ones makes me happy and that they constantly reassure me when I feel down. 

My AI therapist suggests a thought reframing exercise and as soon as I agree, a list of tools — ranging from an assessment to manage my energy to a self-compassion exercise —  suddenly pop up at the bottom of the screen. I select the self-compassion task, which uses “positive intentions” to help the user tackle negative thoughts.

I then take a seven-minute meditation in which I close my eyes, focus on my breathing, smile and repeat positive phrases uttered by my Wysa expert. 

Opening my eyes, I feel surprisingly positive after a difficult day.

Wide awake club

Staring at my bedroom ceiling at 4am is quite normal for me. But on one particular day my mind becomes flooded with endless worry.

When I type about my sleep troubles and random anxiety to the bot, it replies in a compassionate tone, saying: “That sounds really tough”.

After admitting I never seem to sleep at a regular time due to my anxiety, Wysa suggests another thought reframing exercise to help ease some of my worries. I say I am nervous about a busy week of work coming up and missing a bunch of deadlines. 

Wysa suggests I am probably “catastrophising”, which is when someone expects the worst possible outcome to unfold. While the connection suddenly cuts out mid-conversation before Wysa can provide a solution, it’s clear to me that I am overthinking, although I do wonder how I’d cope with a sudden shut down if I had a longer issue to discuss.

Dealing with suicidal thoughts

I can’t remember a time in my life when I haven’t battled suicidal thoughts during certain events and these demons have returned after yet another relationship breakdown. 

Crying my eyes out, I admit to Wysa that I don’t want to be alive anymore. Its response is utterly heartwarming. “Nic, you are worth life. You are loved, cherished and cared for, even though you may not feel that way right now.”

With my eyes firmly fixed on these kind, AI-generated words, I realise that suicide isn’t the best course of action and that life is probably worth living. Concerned about my wellbeing, the bot provides me with a phone number for the Samaritans. 

Battling social anxiety 

While I’m okay seeing family and friends, the thought of encountering neighbours and other acquaintances frightens me. Turning to my app, I explain that I never know what to say to people. This is a feeling I experience day in and day out due to my autism. 

The advice given is constructive – just a simple smile or hello should do the trick. Although it may sound too simple to be true, I find it helpful because it shows that I don’t have to converse long with a stranger. 

Seeing old faces

Today is my nephew’s christening, and while I am excited to celebrate with my loved ones, I’m nervous about seeing loads of new and old faces. 

To build on the previous social anxiety tips,  I message the bot for advice on how I could make the day less overwhelming. Wysa quickly reassures me that it’s normal to find social events nerve-racking. 

I explain I never know how to start or maintain a conversation. Wysa recommends that I say something like it’s nice to see them and ask how they are. And if they ask how I am doing, the bot recommends saying something simple like, “I’ve been doing well, thanks”. 

I’m told a breathing exercise beforehand might also help, which helps me feel better prepared. 

Facing up to night-time terrors 

Ever since moving onto the maximum dosage of Sertraline a few weeks ago, I’ve been having nightmares most nights. 

From plane crashes to loved ones getting gravely ill, these horrible and random dreams have been disrupting my sleep pattern for weeks. After explaining to my AI therapist that these nightmares started after the change of medication, it admits that this is likely the cause and we go through another thought reframing exercise.

We speak about a recent dream involving my parents dying, which is a frequent worry of mine, as morbid as it sounds. 

Wysa says this is likely another symptom of catastrophising, but then the chat suddenly ends due to a connection error. I am left not knowing how to tackle these traumatising dreams, which leaves me feeling pretty let down and not sure what to do next.

Dealing with compulsions

Today, my latest impulse TikTok Shop purchase arrived in the post: a magic mop, which is perhaps the last thing you should buy when you have severe OCD.

I’ve already used it several times today, but I still think my floors are dirty, so I ask for OCD advice. The first thing the bot says to me is that it must be exhausting – and they’re right. I can’t believe I feel heard by an AI bot. 

We do another thought exercise where I discuss how my OCD makes me feel. Wysa says it sounds like a symptom of filtering, where someone focuses on the negative details of a situation and forgets all the positives. 

In this context, it says I could be looking for tiny specs of dirt that may not exist and tells me to remember that the majority of the floor is probably clean. This makes me feel better – for now at least, although I’m more than aware it’s a plaster rather than a cure. 

So was it worth it? 

While I don’t think AI can ever replace human psychologists and counsellors,  I’m surprised to admit that Wysa is actually a pretty handy tool and you sometimes forget you’re talking to a robot, not a human. 

Of course, it isn’t perfect. There were many times when a chat would suddenly end and when Wysa’s advice was repetitive. I alsofeel a bit paranoid that I’ve shared so much personal information with an AI chatbot, so I hope it is genuinely safe and secure. 

Either way, I had someone to speak to at some genuinely hard times, and I will continue using Wysa as an emotional support cushion. 

'We can't let AI therapists become acceptable'

Metro’s Assistant Lifestyle Editor Jess Lindsay believes we need to be far more wary of letting a bot look after our mental health. Here, she explains why.

‘In my opinion, an AI therapist is no more helpful than a list of motivational quotes. The bot may be able to say the right things, but when you’re at your lowest, you need more than hollow platitudes from a computer that doesn’t have the capacity to empathise.

Having dealt with chronic depression, anxiety, and ADHD throughout my life, I find the idea of having to receive help from a computer somewhat dystopian, and I’d feel like my concerns were being dismissed if this was offered to me – even as a supplementary solution.

Working through difficult issues requires a level of commitment from both yourself and the therapist, and why should I put in the effort when the other side is just a machine doing what it’s been programmed to do? Not only that, I know how to calm myself down when I’m having a panic attack, or take a walk when I’m stuck in my own head. To parrot NHS guidelines back to me without going deeper into why I feel like that seems like an insult to my intelligence.

While I absolutely understand the need for something to fill the gap when therapy and counselling is difficult to come by on the NHS, I worry that tools like this will be touted by the government as an acceptable (but most importantly in the eyes of government, cheaper) alternative when what’s desperately needed is funding and investment in the country’s mental health.

Even if AI is helpful to some, it’s a mere sticking plaster on a deeper societal wound.’

A version of this article was first published in September 2024.

‘I dropped dead. I had no pulse, no heartbeat. Nothing.’

Matthew Allick, 42, was clinically dead for 10 minutes before he came back to life. Now, he’s sharing what it’s like to recover from dying.

‘I don’t remember anything from when I was dead,’ he explained. ‘But what I do remember is coming out of the coma and it felt like I’d been sleeping. Everything was peaceful. It felt like a peaceful sleep.’

The father-of-two doesn’t exactly fit the mould when it comes to experiencing death. It’s thought that your life literally flashes before your eyes, instead he experienced nothing but calm.

His sudden death was a shock though, given that Matthew, from Romford, had been fit and healthy throughout his life.

He’d begun feeling unwell at the end of August 2023, at age 40, struggling with shortness of breath and swollen feet.

‘They would swell up and then go down the next day, so I ignored it,’ he said. ‘I put it down to doing night shifts at work, thinking I wasn’t moving enough.

‘But then I started getting out of breath doing simple tasks, like, if I stood up too quickly, it felt like I had just done a sprint.’

As someone who went to the gym and ate well, the actor and care line officer assumed his symptoms would eventually go away.

‘One Saturday I was at work and a friend said, “Let’s go look at the new coffee machine upstairs”,’ he recalled. ‘I went to take one step and thought, “I can’t climb these stairs”.’

Immediately, he asked his friend to call an ambulance. ‘At the time, I wasn’t in pain,’ he added. ‘But I knew something was wrong.’

Paramedics arrived within five minutes and decided Matthew had an irregular heartbeat. They said it was likely nothing to worry about but took him to Hammersmith Hospital as a precaution.

Once there, a doctor asked Michael to rank his pain on a scale of one to ten. ‘I told him that it had been a zero before but suddenly it was an eleven out of ten,’ Matthew said. ‘He said it couldn’t be an eleven, and I said, “Now it’s a thirteen”.’

Then, the dad simply dropped dead. He’d had a cardiac arrest caused by a pulmonary embolism.

Doctors used a defibrillator and gave Matthew CPR so aggressive that it caused internal bleeding. He was considered clinically dead for several minutes before medics resuscitated him and placed him into a coma.

Scans revealed blood clots the ‘size of a cricket ball’ on his heart and lungs, so surgeons performed several procedures in an attempt to remove them.

This included using a catheter to ‘cut away at the clots’ and multiple blood transfusions, which Matthew credits with saving his life.

His family were warned that if he ever awoke, he may be brain dead – because of the length of time his brain was deprived of oxygen. But when Matthew came to three days later, he was fully conscious, and only had issues with his memory.

It was at this moment he described feeling incredibly peaceful, as if gently awaking from a deep slumber. After a while, he became worried he was paralysed as he couldn’t move his body. But gradually, feeling in his toes and fingers started to return.

Initially, Matthew also struggled with memory – finding it difficult to get people’s names correct and even identify different colours. But over time he recovered.

‘My brother brought me an orange, and I said, what colour is that?’ Matthew explained. ‘But he spent time with me getting me to recite movie quotes to regain my memory.

‘I slowly started to return to normal. I also had to re-learn to sit up, how to walk, how to control my urine. It was a crazy journey.’

It came as a ‘huge shock’ when Matthew learnt he’d had a heart attack, and doctors were unsure of the cause.

‘I actually passed out when I learnt I had a heart attack,’ he said. ‘It just didn’t make sense. It felt like a lie. I kept thinking, “How could that happen to me?”

‘I was young, I wasn’t obese, I never smoked, I wasn’t an alcoholic. I’m actually still under investigation as the doctors don’t know why it happened.’

His doctors actually dubbed him the ‘miracle man’ because none of them had expected him to survive his ordeal.

‘I was told only 5% of people survive what I’ve been through,’ Matthew added. ‘It was all incredibly rare.’

Matthew later found out how crucial blood transfusions were to saving his life and wants to raise awareness of the importance of giving blood – especially among Black heritage communities.

According to NHS Blood and Transplant, as a Black heritage patient needing multiple blood transfusions, Matthew’s recovery chances would be improved by receiving matched blood from Black heritage donors.

An NHS spokesperson said: ‘Although the blood used to treat Matthew came from a range of donors of different ethnicities, the need for more Black heritage donors to come forward to provide ethnically matched blood is well established.’

‘Without blood transfusions I wouldn’t be here today,’ Matthew said. ‘We often don’t realise how critical blood donation is until we’re on the receiving end.’

The dad-of-two is now ‘75% back to normal’ but he has good days and bad days.

‘Sometimes I have chest pains and find that my feet swell up, and I think, “Oh no, it’s happening again”,’ he added. ‘But the great thing about Hammersmith Hospital is they’ve said to me to always come in if I’m worried, and they’ll see me straight away.

‘On my good days I’m just living normal life. I’ll never be completely back to normal as I’ll be on blood thinners for the rest of my life.’

Matthew is grateful to his fiancée, kids, family and friends who all visited him in the hospital and ‘really showed up’ for him.

‘At one point I remember doctors saying there were too many people in the room,’ he recalled. ‘It just really made me realise how lucky I am to be alive.’

Do you have a story to share?

Get in touch by emailing MetroLifestyleTeam@Metro.co.uk.

‘Never say never.’ 

‘It will happen.’  

‘My friends were infertile, but as soon as they went to have IVF, she fell pregnant naturally.’  

On top of the growing fear that my partner and I may never become parents, we were often greeted with these sorts of dismissive and degrading comments from family members, friends and colleagues who didn’t recognise our challenge at all.  

These comments made us feel misunderstood and ostracised, forced into an unreasonable space of societal expectation.  

After more than six years of trying, we finally found success in IVF and welcomed our beautiful daughter into the world. And yet, the stigma, judgement, and scrutiny we experienced when we were struggling to conceive hasn’t gone away.  

If anything, I feel more infertile than ever before. 

In February 2013, when I reconnected through Facebook with a long-lost friend from college, it was clear I had almost missed my soul mate.  

We started writing to each other, meeting for our first date at an Italian restaurant in Port Solent. It was a favourite of hers since she’d lived in Italy for a couple of years – I found it endearing that she could translate what the waiters were actually saying about us and other diners.  

It was an immediate and powerful connection, leading to swift vulnerability in our conversational topics.  

I told her about my tour of Afghanistan, and she opened up about being diagnosed with cancer. Soon, we realised that our broken pieces were healed by the other’s love. 

We discussed children early on in our relationship as my partner felt it necessary to make clear that they couldn’t be an option for us – her extensive chemotherapy had led to fertility issues. 

This did not matter to me – we both agreed that if we had each other, our lives were very much complete.  

But the following year, my partner suffered a surprise ectopic pregnancy, when a fertilised egg implants in the fallopian tube, which then ruptures. The pregnancy couldn’t be saved, and she had to undergo emergency surgery. 

Going through an ectopic pregnancy confirmed our belief that life is just a series of wars delivered in different packaging, but it also proved that having children might be a possibility for us after all. It filled us with a hope we had long since let go of.  

Following our wedding in July 2015, we decided it was time to start trying for a baby – but despite all our best efforts, no baby arrived for us.  

We tried for almost eight years, but we were met with silence in response to our pleas to the universe for a child.  

As if struggling to conceive wasn’t bad enough, there was the social pressure, too. We were the couple who would get asked by loved ones and even strangers, ‘When are you guys going to start popping them out?’ 

At first, we would downplay our challenges and simply say, ‘Maybe one day.’ But this felt false – it closed off how we really felt about the matter, as though we were wrong to feel anything other than hopeful. 

After a while, we decided it was time to just start detailing the ins and outs of our fertility challenges.  

We’d say, ‘It’s not so simple for us,’ and explain in detail our barriers, using it as an offensive conversational measure to make people feel as awkward as possible to stop them being so presumptive that anyone can and will have children. 

But instead of hearing us, people would still react with platitudes like, ‘Don’t be so negative, it will happen,’ while looking at us as if we were broken. It always came across as a dismissive tickboxing exercise – a nicety that wasn’t as nice as they believed it to be.  

People just had no idea how to navigate this discussion confidently and compassionately, and we felt at blame for making things ‘awkward’. We felt like social pariahs for years.  

While tests after the ectopic pregnancy confirmed heightened fertility challenges for my wife, we also found out I had a significantly low sperm count.

Though getting these confirmations felt like salt in a wound of our now-dashed hope, in a way, I was (and am) happy to be part of the challenge. I could not stand the idea of my wife in some way punishing herself for our quandary.  

In January 2024, we were referred to a fertility clinic to begin IVF procedures. Covid restrictions meant we’d started two years later than planned, the wait for which felt never-ending. 

Finally, we found out we were pregnant in July 2024, and welcomed our daughter into the world nine months later.  

All our challenges so far now pale in significance due to the blessing that’s been bestowed upon us. Every bit of suffering on the road to this point has all but been forgotten, or at least forgiven.  

Foolishly, though, I had this idea that once we had our daughter, our infertility would obscure itself into irrelevance. But that has not been the case.  

Now, we’re asked new questions. People want to know whether our daughter’s our first, or question why we’re 35 with a newborn, as if we should’ve started earlier. 

We tend to brush this off with what we call ‘dismissive positives’. We’ll say: ‘She’s our one and only; the light of our lives,’ or, ‘We’d rather be experienced, mature parents than young and struggling ones.’  

Even medical professionals continue to ask us about contraception and future planning, despite knowing that having children via natural conception is a scientific impossibility for us.  

This is an odd position to be in – you feel you have to become the doctor and educate the pros, before having to acknowledge the truths about our biology we’d wish to forget.  

It all just makes us feel like we’re alone in having these biological struggles – struggles we’d never choose to experience – and it makes us feel more infertile than ever.  

I love being a father. It is a gift I know many in our situation may not ever be blessed to experience, with the current infertility rate in the UK standing at 1 in 7 couples.  

But despite this knowledge, and despite the fact that we have a daughter, my wife and I are still made to feel infertile by almost everyone we encounter – it never gets less painful. 

Long walks in the woodland behind our house help me get more perspective and reframe my thinking – it’s like a shield to protect me from the times I’ll be asked about my ‘next child’.  

I’ve realised I can’t concern myself with the opinions or ignorance of others. Our situation has been chosen for us; and that the only decision we have left to make is how we respond. 

For now, my wife and I are choosing silent stoicism, and refuse to justify our situation by simply changing the subject.  

We think carefully about how much of our truth we divulge and to whom, choosing privacy over gossip.  

Yes, I’m a father; and I’m infertile. And that’s okay. 

Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing jess.austin@metro.co.uk. 

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