For My Mum — and Every Family Living a Nightmare They Never Chose

In 2023, , our lives changed in a moment. my beautiful, brave mum at just 50 years old was diagnosed with a benign brain tumour. We were told she needed urgent surgery and I just remember feeling numb, terrified, and the feeling of my heart breaking in silence. The operation was meant to save her life… but nothing could have prepared us for what followed.

After surgery, complications meant my mum was placed into a coma and or two heartbreaking weeks, she lay unresponsive. We didn’t know if she would wake up or if we’d ever hear her voice again. We lived hour by hour, day by day, I sat by her bed, holding her hand, begging her to come back to us. She lay there, motionless, with tubes everywhere and machines keeping her alive. An image that haunts me.

We almost lost her.

We came heartbreakingly close.

But my mum is the strongest woman I know and she fought with everything she had. With every fragile heartbeat, with every silent moment, she was fighting her way back to us.

When she finally opened her eyes, we were overwhelmed with relief. I cried harder than I ever had, relief, disbelief, fear, love — all tangled into one moment. But we also knew our lives would never be the same. Unfortunately her fight didn’t end there. Waking up was just the beginning and all of a sudden she had to relearn life from scratch. Learn how to sit, how to talk, how to swallow, how to walk — all over again. It was six long months in hospital. Endless physio. Countless tears. Unbearable pain. More setbacks than I can count. And yet, she faced every one of them with a strength I still can’t explain. Due to everything that happened, she is now living with a disability and still to this day struggles with day to day life, physically & mentally. And yet, shes still fighting & remains the most inspiring person I know.

Watching someone you love fade into someone they don’t recognise is a pain I wouldn’t wish on anyone. I felt helpless. Lost. Grieving the life she had, while desperately trying to hold onto hope.

And in the middle of it all, I started running.

Before and after hospital visits, I’d throw on my trainers, blast my music, and run until my legs ached. It was the only thing that helped me breathe, a small escape from the nightmare we were living. It gave me space to cry, to scream inside and to feel alive when everything felt like it was falling apart. My legs carried the weight of what my heart couldn’t.

Now, I run with purpose.

In 2026, I will run the London Marathon in honour of my mum — and for the thousands of families who are going through what we did. I’m raising £3,500 for Brain Tumour Research, a charity that supported us in our darkest days. That helped us when we were lost in fear, confusion and heartbreak. Their support was a lifeline, and their research is vital for families like mine. Their work matters. They fight for better treatments, more answers and the hope that one day, fewer families will have to face what we did. My mums life looks very different now. But she’s alive. She’s breathing. And for that, I’ll run every mile with pride.

If you’ve ever watched someone you love suffer and felt completely powerless, you’ll understand why this means everything to me.

Please if you can, I would be beyond grateful for every donation. Even £1 brings us closer to a future where brain tumours don’t steal so much. I’m running for my mum. For every person who’s ever had to relearn how to live. For every daughter who’s sat in that hospital chair, praying for a miracle. Every step I take will be fuelled by love, pain, hope, and the belief that we can create change.

Thank you for reading. Thank you for caring. And thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for helping me do this — for her. 💔💪