Mum says she remembers that afternoon like it was yesterday.
The sun was warm but not too hot, and the garden smelled of cut grass and tomato vines. Dad had found an old red bicycle at a car boot sale, the kind with tassels on the handles, and decided today would be "the day."
She was nervous. She kept insisting her legs were "too wobbly" and that the bike didn't like her. But Dad knelt down, looked her straight in the eyes, and said, "You're braver than you think."
He held the seat tightly as she pushed off, running behind her in his worn-out trainers. And then, without realising, she was pedalling on her own, the wind in her face, the world opening up, and Dad cheering from the path.
She says the moment she realised she was riding alone felt like the first time she believed she could do anything.
It wasn't just learning to ride a bike. It was learning to trust herself.