Portraits of Resilience: Lynn

Our Portraits of Resilience bring together powerful portraits and personal stories from women who’ve walked through our doors at Bramber Bakehouse. As you explore these stories, we invite you to stand with us as we step into the next decade of hope and healing.

I looked after my mum, who had dementia, for 16 years. When she nearly burnt the kitchen down, I said, “That’s it, I’m moving in full time”. At first, it wasn’t too bad, but then it got much worse. It was 24/7, exhausting, but I wouldn’t have done it any other way. Mum had cared for her own mum, so it felt natural that I did the same.

Unfortunately, I suffer with depression and loneliness. Before caring for my mum, I had a relationship with someone for nearly 30 years which was very abusive. I met her when she had an 11-week-old baby and took her son on as my own. I worked and provided for them. Eight months in, she stabbed me in the ankle. Later she stabbed me in the wrist – I still have the scar. She started being unfaithful to me when her son was four. There was a lot of lying, mental control and manipulation. I suffer from PTSD and am having counselling to help me process it all. I still have nightmares every night.

I don’t know why I put up with it. Logically, I knew it was wrong. I don’t have the answers other than I absolutely loved her with all my heart.

When my mum passed, I was in a right state because I’d lost my way. My purpose had been looking after her. My social prescriber recommended the baking course at Bramber. I was absolutely dreading it because I’ve got arthritis in my hands and osteoporosis.

I told the taxi driver who dropped me off, “I really don’t want to do this.” But after that first class I came out grinning, saying, “That was brilliant. I bloody loved it.”

When I walked in, I was nervous, but they were so kind and welcoming. They gave me my own cooking station. When I couldn’t do something like kneading dough because of joint and shoulder pain, one of the lovely volunteers would do it for me.

I baked some tasty things. The first class, I couldn’t believe it, I got best in class! It was brownies and the marbling on top had come out really nicely. Honestly, I thought I didn’t have a clue. I was taking photos of what I had made to send to my brother who lives in Australia.

It was a real mix of women from all different countries. I was worried because I thought some of them would come from places where they don’t like gay people. I was sitting with all these ladies with different beliefs and religions but they were lovely. That tolerance and acceptance had a big impact on me. One day we spoke about what we had been going through. There was a woman from Syria and one from Ukraine who had to bring her kids over here to keep them safe. What some of them had been through is awful. It made me cry.

I’m a chatty person so I was trying to get everyone else involved. I don’t know whether the other women got my humour but they used to laugh a lot. I felt proud I was bringing a bit of happiness into their life.

We had a graduation on our last day and even wore the funny, square hats. I bought little presents for everyone because it was the last time we were going to see each other. I got one woman a word puzzle book because she was learning English, and a big bar of chocolate and rubber gloves for the lady who kept doing all our washing up.

I was sad when the classes finished because it had lifted my spirits and given me a purpose. My cleaner said to me, “You were absolutely brilliant when you were on that baking course. You were lively, it just changed and helped you.” It was special because it made me feel good. Thankfully, afterwards, I got a befriender, my lovely Mary from Ireland.

In January, I’m going to become a pensioner. My dream is to move over to Australia to be near my brother who lives on the Gold Coast. It’s absolutely beautiful there.

I chose to be photographed with this yellow rose. My mum had one growing outside in the front garden, which has been there for years. It’s just beautiful. It’s as old as the hills, but it keeps blossoming and she loved that. I’ve got a rose tattoo as well. I said to my brother we have to celebrate Mum’s life now.

I still struggle with my self-esteem. One day, at Bramber, we had to write our names on a piece of paper and pass it around the room for other people to say something about you. When mine came back, it said, “Lynn has got empathy, Lynn is a fantastic joker,” and other kind things like that.

I stuck it on my fridge: when I look at it, I think, “Ah, I’m not so bad.”

Thank you to Sarah Weal (photographer), Katherine Maxwell-Jones from iMix (storyteller) and Julia Smith (floristry artist) for your careful care and support enabling us to share these stories with the world.