My perfect night in would be lots of bad food like biscuits and chocolate, and possibly an ice cold fizzy drink.
— Katie Piper
It makes me very happy that people’s perceptions of what’s beautiful and attractive are gradually changing.
The important things for me are stability, consistency and love, and I have that through my family, so that’s a great place to be.
Everyone contacts me with the same questions: how can I be more confident? How can I get over my anxiety? And, without being preachy, I do believe that diet is so key.
The main reason I started The Katie Piper Foundation was because I had treatment abroad that I wanted other burns survivors in this country to have access to.
It's one thing for your mum to tell you that you look OK, but she's your mum and she has to tell you you're beautiful. It's not the same as a stranger telling you.
Anywhere, you're going to get people who are ignorant or rude but it's not the whole of society. I don't think my life is doomed because I look like this.
I still have difficult days when I lose hours to anxiety, feeling my throat swell and my mind race with paranoid thoughts. But - thanks in part to ongoing therapy - they’re happening less and less.
I really cherish my family life, because at one point I never thought I’d have it.
My biggest hope for the future is that we're successful in delivering the treatment to people through the charity and that burns just become something that happens in people's lives but doesn't make them a misfit in society and exclude them and stop all their dreams and ambitions.
I was the victim of a violent attack in March 2008. I had sulphuric acid thrown in my face and was severely injured leaving me with loss of site in my eye and full thickness burns on my neck, chest, face and hands.
Writing my first book, 'Beautiful,' was the time that I was able to write the truth of it - that I was despairing at times, that I got depressed and felt like I couldn’t cope. Writing became about being honest.
I was standing in the street with people walking past me and I could feel my face evaporating. I thought I was on fire as the acid ate at my skin.
At 24 I was a wannabe. I was not a 'former TV presenter' as everybody says - I was a young girl living on a wish, appearing on the roulette channel at 1 am and selling cordless kettles on Channel 953.
I think the loveliest time in our house is probably a Sunday, because usually I don't work, my husband doesn't work, Belle's at home and we're all together enjoying each other's company.
I enjoy looking good and love experimenting with my hair colour. I’ve just gone from blonde to brunette, and keep looking in the mirror and not recognising myself!
I was quite lonely because I didn’t have a boyfriend or many friends, so I started spending my weekends doing races. Then I progressed to a half-marathon and I actually enjoyed it!
I don’t have the answer to finding the balance because I think, well, maybe successful people don’t switch off.
I have learnt from Simon Cowell that anything is possible if you work hard enough and also that acts of kindness or giving somebody a few minutes of your time can have a massive impact on their life and their future.
Not a day goes past when I don't think how grateful I am I survived, that I recovered and that I feel like a young woman again.
There was a time when I'd resigned myself to never having my own family, so to fall pregnant with Belle was overwhelming.
I am so much more than what happened to me. I’m a mother and a businesswoman; I run a charity that supports others overcoming adversity; and, most importantly, I’m happy.
At home around my husband, I totally forget I’m burnt and how I look.
I don't have to pretend to be someone I'm not and I think talking so openly about my story gave me acceptance that it's ok to be me.
Before I was attacked, I would write about the future - just goals, lists and plans. I’d scribble without depth or substance about the things I wanted to do with my life, whether short or long-term, and how I thought my future would be: a successful career in TV and modelling, marriage, a family.
I was writing for myself, not to be published. I was writing diaries, even letters, to myself or to anyone I was angry at. Sometimes they weren’t to a person, they were just to the universe - a bit like penning daydreams or isolated thoughts.
I don't want to be an ambassador for too many charities, because it's a far stronger message to be a person with a disfigurement going about their life doing everyday things.
My recovery has been backwards, forwards, up and down - and still is.
I think the most hectic time in my house is about six o'clock in the morning, our sausage dog starts howling and barking and scratching to wake us all up - no alarms needed.
I’m self-sufficient, but it’s brilliant to have people in your life that you love, who love you and are important to you.
What we put in our bodies can make us feel depressed or anxious, and it’s the same for fitness, I think it all joins up in this big circle.
My biggest source of inspiration is my mum.
My book 'Things Get Better' has normalised the idea that it’s OK to fail and it’s OK to seek professional help from psychologists.
I like to tell myself people look at me for all sorts of reasons. Maybe they're staring because they're shocked or maybe they recognise me from TV, or maybe they just like my shoes - especially women, because we all look at each other's clothes and hair.
I've tried to stop reading comments online because if you believe everything, it makes you feel like rubbish.
It’s true that looks do matter, but they won’t give you a long, successful career or a happy marriage.
People always go on about me being an inspiration, which is nice. But it’s an unrealistic pedestal to be put on. There are other people out there who have had things happen to them, not just me.
I've had lots of opportunities to do things I'm passionate about and the things I care about and I feel that I can live in a world that doesn't really accept people that are different happily.
If I’m thinking or feeling something, I have to record it somewhere. If I don’t, I worry the thought will be lost and I’ll never get it back again. I never self-edit and I don’t write in one place or in a special book.
But I like a challenge, anything I can’t do it inspires me to learn it.
I have managed to conquer my fear of fire one fish at a time. I've gone from eating sushi to prawns, to baking sea bass fillets.
