Confidence is a strange thing isn’t it? I’ve always been a quietly confident person, someone who had self belief and could adapt and be flexible when needed. Since getting depression, things have really changed. I no longer feel that I’m that person, I no longer back myself in a situation.

Strangely, cooking, and in particular working with bread, is something that I’ve come to feel a growing sense of confidence in. Bread is a forgiving thing; physically its responsive, it can be moulded, plied, kneaded. It is also such a simple thing; at its basic level it is only four ingredients. The act of making and kneading the dough, giving it time, and baking it to produce a fresh loaf is a miraculous thing. Fresh bread is nearly always appreciated by people too. It makes the person who eats it feel good, which makes you feel good, and feeling good about yourself is what confidence is all about. Without an inward belief it’s hard to project that to the outside world. You may act confident, but a lack of self-belief will show through. Working with food is helping me to bring that inner confidence back. It takes knocks now and again, but its getting there.