As the landscape changed into moorland, I cast a glance over to the red tinged view as I got my first taste of Dartmoor. Something in my stomach stirred - I knew what I had come to do. It was my whole purpose of the trip so I couldn't back out now.

I’d read enough articles on cold water swimming to know how to be prepared and what to expect but I know there was a threshold to get over - to actually just do it. Everyone joked I was born in the water - as child I would spend hours just sitting in water and looking at anything to be found in it. There’s a huge box containing endless photos of people on the beach smiling to camera with their ice cream and there I am in the background, just hanging out in the water.

This obsession with the water never went away but what society had taught me was that bodies like the one I had as a teenager were shameful and not fit for a swimsuit so I started sitting it out, longing to go in but terrified of what might be said about it or the disgust I might inflict on another.

On the odd occasion I did go in it was because I found a swimsuit after endless searching that I finally felt hid my body sufficiently. I actually went in the sea with a t-shirt on once, it was such a hot day and I was so desperate to get in so just figured this would be a good way round it. I can see looking back that is kinda messed up.

I stuck with the swimming pool having had painstakingly worked out when the least busy times are. But, like a goldfish a bowl, I felt limited and penned in.

So fast forward to recent years having had years of this dread hold me back. And I have finally found some peace around my body. The first time friends saw me in a swimsuit I felt nauseous with nerves. This is how bad it had got. But I survived this exposing myself and with each and every ‘outing’ I started to realise no-one cares and if they did, it isn’t anything to do with me. I started to become brave enough to throw off the towel and run into the sea in Brighton. And thus begins my love affair with wild swimming.

So, all roads led here. Standing at the side of Sharrah Pool of the River Dart having hiked an hour to get there. There are a few people lazing in the autumn sunshine like lizards on a rock and haven’t yet spotted me shyly hanging out by a tree before pacing the edges of the water trying to determine where the best place is for me to get in before I whip my clothes off.

One of the folks hanging out opens one eye and slowly sits up - ‘you getting in?’. I reply I’m not sure and they say ‘it’s lush, go for it!’. And so I strip down to my swimming costume, wrap a towel around me and set up my phone to video - there is something about this moment that feels important.

My right foot goes in first (brrrr!) and then my left. Monty looks at me with excitement. No backing out now Croman. A few people have started to watch me - but this is not a judgemental crowd, these are people who genuinely want me to live life and get in that water. Probably not least because they’ve just had the experience and KNOW.

I tentatively take a few steps in and ‘BOOSH’ I hit a shelf and the choice of how quickly I was getting in that water was gone in an instant. Some cheers rung out from those on the banks and Monty swam to me overjoyed I am sharing his happy place (Labrador).

In that moment I am overcome with emotion. I let it go - I shout out in pure joy and a few more bystanders had arrived by this point to see it and it had encouraged them enough to strip down and start their submerge. Sure, the water is cold but I am thrilled. The whole experience is entirely exhilarating and I have never felt more alive. The water of the Dart river that usually rushes is so still here and I do a few laps of the pool. As I get out a guy has stripped to his pants and on his way in ‘thanks for the inspiration!’ he says and off he goes in breast stroke, whooping as he does so.

Writing about this experience now I realise this was a monumental shift for me. I couldn't get enough after that, for the ten days I was in Dartmoor I made a point of getting in cold water every day.

Some days I was left with a chill - the temperate drops in the afternoon quickly in October and I learned to swim as early in the day as possible so I could bask in the sun to warm up outside the tent.

When I got back to Brighton, a friend who had seen my swimming endeavours on my Instagram invited me for a 6.30am swim with her and a group of women who meet most days. Something in me told me I needed to grasp this opportunity - I felt to climatise my body for winter swimming I was going to need to commit to it now. And commit to it I did.

The women I met that morning turned out to be the most incredible, supportive and warm group of women and checking in on the WhatsApp group is like pure joy and every time I see them it is like seeing old friends - there is a special kind of bonding when you take part in a activity so special together. Some mornings it’s dark and we wear head torches. On weekend mornings we might meet a bit later in the rain or sun. Half the joy is experiencing the water in different ways.

I still get nervous about a swim when I haven’t been in for a few weeks but as I write this it’s February and I’m still swimming - albeit a little more few and far between with respect for the swelling waters this time of year. One particular swim stands out in my memory - I had been in the Midlands for a few weeks and I met with some of the crew a little later that the usual time the day after I got back to Brighton. The sea was a milky pond and there was frost on the beach. As we headed into the water one of them chatted away to me trying to distract me from the cold as I quietly swore. But then a wave of peace flowed over my body and I felt in that moment that I was entirely content. I ended up staying in for eight minutes that day as the warm sun started to peek through a slit in the sky and land on the water.

I’ve found having gloves makes the world of difference in how long you can stay in and safety is paramount - safety in numbers is the key. When you enter the cold water blood rushes from your extremities to your core to keep you warm meaning you can lose use of your limbs - this happened to me but my buddies were looking out for me and kept me calm. And there is the consideration of ‘The After Drop’ - this is when all the blood rushes back to your body and can create a rapid drop in core temperature. So it’s extremely important to make sure you dry thoroughly and get on some warm clothing immediately. A cup of hot, spicy tea will help too.

The benefits of cold water swimming have been huge on my mental health and my outlook to life. I have a real sense of ‘I can do anything’. And my relationship with my body gets stronger every single day I go in the water. Recently I bought a swimming costume in a bright cockatoo print and I wear it with pride - it’s sustainable, it’s cheerful and I love it. Who needs secret tummy ‘slimming’ panels anyway?

On cold mornings it can take all your might to get your clothes off on the chilly beach and wade into the water but what keeps you going back in is the invincible feeling afterwards that knocks into the rest of your day. You can feel an intense feeling of tiredness later on in the day which makes bedtime something to be cherished.

Swimming not only brings me peace around my body, it has also given me a community and a feeling of living. Of seizing the day. I don’t have that itchy feeling of ‘what if I just tried it?’. And it’s given me the confidence to try other, new things too. If you’re reading this with a curiosity about cold water swimming I say go for it!