CLICKING glasses with my two mates, we cheered ‘Happy Birthday’.
We were out for my friend’s birthday, and I was looking forward to a night of celebration.
As I took a sip of my drink, I clocked a familiar face chatting with a group of friends.
‘It’s my ex,’ I said, surprised. We had been a couple for two years on-and-off.
It was a nice relationship, but it had run its course and ended amicably 18 months previously.
I hadn’t seen him since – until now.
He had seen me too, and our two groups got chatting.
In high spirits, they told us they’d spent the day at the Chester Races.
‘This is my girlfriend, Mia,’ he said, introducing me to the woman beside him.
Her name was Mia Troake and I’d neither met nor spoken to her before, but she seemed perfectly nice.
After 10 minutes of chatting, my friends and I found somewhere to sit down, leaving the other group. Half an hour later, my glass was empty.
‘I’m going to get another one,’ I said, heading back to the bar, where I bumped into him and his mates again.
He was making cheeky remarks, and I couldn’t help but giggle. As I turned back to the bar to pay, I felt a tap on my shoulder.
[bc_video account_id=”5067014667001″ application_id=”” aspect_ratio=”16:9″ autoplay=”” caption=”The seedy underbelly of Cheshire – home to famous residents like Jack Grealish and Coleen Rooney ” embed=”in-page” experience_id=”” height=”100%” language_detection=”” max_height=”360px” max_width=”640px” min_width=”0px” mute=”” padding_top=”56%” picture_in_picture=”” player_id=”default” playlist_id=”” playsinline=”” sizing=”responsive” video_id=”6344010433112″ video_ids=”” width=”640px”]Spinning round, I realised it was Mia. ‘Why are you speaking to my boyfriend?’ she demanded.
I opened my mouth to speak, but she carried on asking me questions. Then I heard her say, ‘Do you want to sleep with him?
It was so outrageous, and she was doing my head in, so I rolled my eyes. Without thinking, I replied sarcastically, ‘Yeah, I want to sleep with him.’
In the blink of an eye, Mia flung something at me, and I recoiled in shock at the feeling of cold liquid.
As she ran away, my hands shot up to my face, not able to comprehend what had happened.
But then the pain kicked in, and as I looked down at my fingers, I noticed I was covered in deep red.
Realisation hit – it was blood. Mia had thrown her gin glass directly at my face. I felt delirious.
The staff took me upstairs to the kitchen’s pantry, and someone summoned my friends. It had all happened so fast, and my mind was whirring.
Glass in my hair
As my friends picked glass out of my hair, the police arrived to question me.
I learned Mia was stopped by bouncers and arrested by the police, who happened to be right outside at the time.
An ambulance arrived to take me to hospital, and I was given an X-ray to check for glass.
Plastic surgery needed
The gaping cut across my face was temporarily covered with butterfly stitches as the plastic surgeon had left for the night.
Afterwards, I was discharged and told to return tomorrow.
Waking up the following morning, I almost forgot it had happened.
But then I felt the pain. Tentatively glancing in the mirror, I gasped.
There was heavy bruising under my eyes and blood had seeped out from the stitches and dried down my face.
After cleaning myself up, I returned to hospital and was given five stitches on my lip. Back home later, a friend came over to try to cheer me up.
But as I tried to laugh at her jokes, pain pierced through me. I couldn’t even smile.
‘I feel like I’m not allowed to be happy,’ I said, close to tears. It was a constant reminder of what I’d been through.
Although my boss said I could take off as much time as I needed from my job as an estate agent, it was a busy period, so I returned to work that Monday.
But towards the end of the week, it was clear something wasn’t right.
Usually upbeat and sociable, I felt anxious at the prospect of meeting clients to show them around houses.
My confidence had been shattered, and I couldn’t carry on like normal, so I was signed off by my GP.
After three months, I returned to work, but I was in for a shock when, a few months later, I was made redundant due to low performance.
I was diagnosed with mild PTSD and put in touch with a therapist for online CBT.
Healing after the court case
The structure gave me time to understand the healing process and I found journalling a big help.
I didn’t hear from Mia or my ex, but it didn’t surprise me.
Two years after the attack, Mia, 22, from Longwell Green, Gloucestershire, appeared at Chester Crown Court charged with unlawful wounding.
She pleaded guilty. I had no idea what to expect, and as I walked in, it was so quiet, you could hear a pin drop.
My heart pounded as I clocked Mia in a glass box surrounded by police. When the evidence photos were brought out, I was shocked at how I looked.
Horror injuries
My injuries were worse than I remembered and you could see the terror in my eyes.
It was strange seeing my life spoken about with such intensity in this formal, powerful place.
As they went over the events of that night, for the first time, it really sunk in what had happened to me.
Troake was given an 18-month sentence suspended for two years, ordered to complete 100 hours of unpaid work and pay £1000 in compensation. A restraining order was also issued.
It didn’t feel like enough. I believed a curfew would have been a better punishment, as that’s what I had to suffer.
I was too scared to go out after a certain time because of her actions.
Although I tried to continue working in property, it brought back my trauma, so I’m now running my own social media agency.
I’m in a happy relationship and have plans for a stint in Australia.
The attack impacted me physically, mentally and financially, and the scar on my face is a constant reminder of that night.
But now, that chapter of my life is well and truly closed, and I’ve come out a stronger person.
