Five years ago today...

Five years ago today I was doing a work experience internship at More! magazine and while sitting on a train into Liverpool street had a call from my mum.
"Are you ok?" She yelled as soon as I picked up.
"Yeah mum, I'm fine, why wouldn't I be?" I responded, thinking my mum was being a tad over the top. I'd only been out of the house for an hour.
She mumbled something about a newsflash, some trouble on the tubes. I told her to not worry about it. There were delays on the tube every day. It would be fine.
When I got into Liverpool street, there were people running everywhere. I have never before or since seen so many people running in my life - and I've taken part in half marathons.
I tried to get on the tube, but was only met with lots of burly men telling me to get a bus. I tried to get a bus but was only met with empty buses rushing by, doors closed, nobody being allowed on.
I called More! and a panicked receptionist told me not to get on any transport, there were bombs all over the city. I should go home. 
I lived in Essex. An hour train ride from the city.
So, I walked, in high heeled cowgirl boots. Luckily I got chatting to a bloke who showed me the way back to Stratford. No trains running from there, so I walked back to Ilford and then managed to bus it back to Wickford. All the way getting panicked calls from friends, family, my then boyfriend. I finally managed to get home at 3pm that afternoon.
But anyway, this post wasn't meant to be about the bombings. But more about the last five years.Yep, forgive me while I take a narcissistic look at the last five years of my life.
A lot has changed. My once tumbling long curly hair has all been cut off and tentatively regrown into a long bob, I no longer own those cowgirl boots, maxi skirts have gone and returned to fashion, my style has gone from romantic student hippy to retro with killer heels and has now settled at somewhere in between, I have lived in Cardiff as a regional journalist for three years but after getting some bad family news I did some real soul searching and realised that working in charity PR was what I really wanted and so I returned to London to be closer to my family. It's long over with my then boyfriend, two more relationships have followed but sadly not worked out. Friendships have died, new ones have been formed, others have grown stronger. I have lived in four different houses, become interested in things I never thought I would be, been to places I never thought I would, fallen in love with people I never thought I would.
Comparing myself now to who and how I was back then has made me nostalgic for the past five years, and it's funny how it has taken a major event like 7/7 for me to recognise my achievements and all the cool things I have done with my life. I have written for national magazines and newspapers, set up the social media and organised fundraising PR campaigns for a charity almost entirely on my own, run a half marathon in two hours, lived alone, been brave enough to ask a boy I liked out for a drink (in fact, I've done this on numerous occasions!). Things my much shyer 21-year-old self would not have thought possible.
7/7 was a horrible day and I am not ignoring all the pain that it caused many families and my heart goes out to them today. I read a story from a woman who lost her sister in the bombings the other day and had to hold back tears (I am a soppy wotsit and couldn't imagine the grief I would feel if I were to lose one of my sisters.) But what I got from that day was not the panic, the horror, (although I of course felt all that) but actually, how god damn nice people can be. That a man would walk all the way back to Stratford with a girl to make sure she didn't get lost, that so many people cared enough to call and check I was ok. In a time of crisis, I didn't see selfishness or hostility, I saw complete strangers helping each other.
In everything, one thing is always true: Life moves on. And you never know what might happen, who you might talk to, what amazing job you might land when you least expect it, who you might fall for. To quote my favourite Banksy painting: "There is always hope."
My goodness. I am going for the cheese saturation today aren't I.