Inspired Living Health Expert and TV Host Leah Guy

One of the most embarrassing days of my life was the day I met Margaret Thatcher. I was still at a young, impressionable age around 18/19, and was so honored to not only meet Margaret Thatcher, but to actually have a semi-private dinner with her was very exciting! Being the “hands-in-everything” kind of person I am, during my first years at Samford University I was leading some kind of group (the exact group, I don’t recall…women’s leadership perhaps?) and we invited Margaret to the school for a luncheon. She accepted, so off to Ann Taylor I went for a blue skirt suit and some large fake pearl earrings to impress the Lady…
I don’t have the best memory (see above), but I remember this day as if it were yesterday. Margaret’s posse arrived to the event and began taking seats, shedding coats, the usual entrance meet and greet. I was to be seated right next to Lady Thatcher and I was first greeted by her assistant. Maybe it was a bodyguard, I have no idea. It was a gentleman I’d never seen before, and without foresight, I didn’t know I’d be seeing much more of him in the near future.
Thatcher came to my table and I turned to greet her and offer her a seat. I was so nervous but super proud and excited as I put my hand out for a polite handshake. As our hands connected, the big fake pearl earring on my right ear fell from my ear and landed right between my boobs. I’ll never forget the look on her face. The eyebrows went up at the exact time her head reared back and there was a gasp. It seemed like 3 months we stood there looking at each other, connected hand-in-hand and the earring laying in full view, nestled up by my breasts. I didn’t know what to do. Surely it wasn’t polite to grab at my breasts in front of Mrs. Thatcher. My first thought was, “If I didn’t have on this push-up bra, the earring would drop between my small boobs and out of vision. Oh my God, but that’s not what is happening, what do I do now?”
Luckily, after Margaret’s initial startle, she remained cool as a cucumber and gave me a gentle smile and a slight head nudge, which I took to mean “Go handle it dear.” So I did.
I raced to the restroom and ran through the door in near tears. As I flung open the door, I saw the gentleman from earlier holding his penis at the stall, urinating. I screamed, profusely apologized and ran out as fast as I came in. This was a comedy of errors, and at 18 years old, I was just convinced all of the United Kingdom would be laughing at me as soon as they heard these stories.
Finally I found the women’s room, got the earring from by bosom, took the other one out of my ear as a preventative measure, cried a little and went back to the table.
She spoke to our group, about which I have no idea. I was in a cloud of recovery, yet looked to this woman leader in front of me with awe, respect and gratefulness. After our “moment” it felt as though we connected on a deeper girl-power type of level, of which now makes me smile deeply.
Mrs. Thatcher was so amazing. Perhaps she didn’t do anything heroic, but making an insecure young college girl feel accepted for ordinary mishaps seemed extraordinary to me at the time.
Rest easy Margaret Thatcher. You made your mark on the world and on me.