I come from an immensely privileged background - think minor aristocracy and big draughty country estates. I grew up in an idyllic part of the world with none of the financial worries that children in my neighbourhood were suffering at that time. My brother and I were educated at prominent boarding schools alongside other members of minor (and not so minor) aristocracy.
My hobby was dinghy sailing and, as my parents were well off enough to pay for the best instructors, I was very successful and at 16 well on my way to being in the Olympic team. I was also a keen diver and, along with my equally privileged boyfriend planned we spent our gap year sailing and diving in the Caribbean.
I was also lucky enough to be academic and was accepted for a science degree at Oxford. I went there thinking that it would be a pleasant way of spending 3 years of my life before the hard slog towards the Olympic gold started in earnest.
My boyfriend proposed to me on my 19th birthday. 3 weeks later he had killed himself.
I dealt with it by working hard at my degree and training hard. I had no help or support from my family, who seemed to see his death as some kind of insult to them. I was banned from discussing or mentioning it at home and he was effectively wiped out of my life.
Due to me working hard I got a 1st and was offered a chance to continue studying for a PhD with a new academic who had just moved to the UK from Sweden. He was much older than me, divorced with children who all lived in Sweden and were not that much younger than me and in the middle of a messy break-up from a brief relationship he'd had when he first arrived. I didn't think I would love anyone again, so it was a surprise when I did, with him. And he with me.
I continued to sail and my ultimate goal in life was still the Olympic gold.
Then I was diagnosed with a rare form of cancer and ended up losing part of a leg. I carried on with my PhD, I accepted my boyfriend's marriage proposal and we ran away to Vegas to marry. But my dreams of OLympic gold were over. Suddenly, irreversibly, over. I know I could have continued, maybe paralympics, but for me - it was over the day I lost my leg.
Instead I concentrated on my academic career. I'd been warned that I would probably not be able to have children and that there was a high chance that I would have long lasting medical problems from the cancer treatment - possibly even another cancer.
Over 25 years on I am successful. I am happily married with 2 DD and a good career. I still sail, but not competitively, but don't dive anymore. I was lucky not to have long term health problems from my cancer, but the chances of developing a new primary remains higher than average.
We are financially stable - due to my Trust fund from my grandparents; academia is not well paid so our lifestyle is due to the luck of others. Not their hard work as my grandparents lived a fairly idle life.
My children are happy and intelligent. They have stable family life with 2 parents and an extended family who love them. They attend a good, local state school and we haven't yet decided whether we will send them to the local comp or private. Either way, they are in charge of their destiny the same way as we were and up to the same point as we were.
The life I am living is not the one I thought I would. I never got that Olympic gold and my first love killed himself.
I'm not lucky or unlucky - a mixture of both.
I've worked moderately hard - there is more that I could have achieved in my life, but I made the choice not to pursue them.
My family background has protected me from the dire financial circumstances that others find themselves in - but that does not make me better than them, only more privileged....but then, cancer is a great leveller.