After enduring two major operations within a single year, I found myself at a crossroads. My body had been through so much, and while I was determined to rebuild my strength and fitness, I knew the traditional gym environment wasn’t right for me. I needed something that would feel less like rehabilitation and more like rediscovery—something enjoyable rather than overwhelming.
Recovery had taken its toll in ways I hadn’t fully anticipated. Beyond the physical limitations, I’d become increasingly isolated. The social connections I once took for granted had quietly faded during months of hospital visits and convalescence. I knew I needed to reconnect with my community, but one of the most frustrating challenges was simply not knowing where to start. What activities existed in my local area? How could I get involved when I barely had the energy to search? The information gap felt like yet another barrier when I was already facing so many.
Everything changed when I spoke with my community connector through the “Wellbeing Matters” program. They understood what I was looking for—something gentle, social, and meaningful—and referred me to the Green and Grow group. From my very first session, I knew I’d found something special.
Thursday has become the highlight of my week. It’s the day I genuinely look forward to, when I can spend time outdoors, breathing fresh air and feeling the soil between my fingers. The change has been remarkable, both physically and mentally. As I’ve gotten stuck into gardening tasks—growing vegetables, selecting flowers for the beds, maintaining our green space—I’ve noticed my strength steadily returning. But it’s happening naturally, without the pressure or monotony I’d dreaded.
What makes Green and Grow truly different is that I’m not just a participant; I have a voice. When we discuss what to plant next or how to organize our space, my opinions matter. This sense of involvement has been incredibly empowering. After months of being a patient—of things being done to me rather than with me—being able to contribute to decisions has helped me feel like myself again.
Perhaps the most surprising transformation has been the friendships I’ve formed. I’ve connected with people who share my interests and understand the value of this time together. These aren’t superficial relationships—they’re genuine connections built on shared purpose and mutual support. I never want to miss a session because each one reinforces my sense of belonging and gives me something positive to focus on beyond my own recovery.
I’ve learned new skills I never expected to develop, from companion planting techniques to seasonal crop rotation. My confidence has grown alongside the vegetables in our beds. And there’s profound joy in the simple moments: the satisfaction of a successful harvest, the camaraderie of our tea breaks, and yes, even the pleasure of sharing Jaffa cakes with friends who’ve become an essential part of my week.
Green and Grow has given me more than improved fitness or horticultural knowledge. It’s restored my sense of purpose and shown me that recovery isn’t just about healing—it’s about growing into something new. Every Thursday, I’m reminded that even after life’s most difficult chapters, there’s always room for fresh growth.