Like most men, my physical self perception froze in my early twenties. Despite the evidence I see when looking in the mirror – lines now permanently etched into my forehead and around the eyes, skin gone pallid and weary looking and my curiously fat nipples – in my mind I still view myself as an unblemished young’un. Even to the point where dressing in adult attire such as a suit often feels incongruous.It’s this delusion of youth I found myself reflecting on as I knelt on the bathroom floor of the care home I was working in, applying copious handfuls of medicated skin cream to J’s naked body.

J was one of three men with disabilities living in the assisted living bungalow, each of them requiring one-to-one support with all elements of life’s necessities; cooking, cleaning, bathing, dressing, medicating, etc. Despite having to kneel before him like this I still…