The creeping waistline, the not-so-perky breasts... how on earth could I ever undress in front of someone again?
But the things we argued about were far from familial.
I wasn't even thinking about dating, let alone sex, at all. My sexuality was in a Snow White-sleep, from which I had neither the courage nor the desire to wake.
For although I was feeling fitter and more attractive than at any time since having my daughter 11 years before, disrobing was still a terrifying thought.
It was the morning after the night I'd been fretting about for the previous two-and-a half weeks, and the prospect of which had terrified me for the past three years.
I had just spent the night with Stephen - the first man I'd been intimate with since the break-up of my 15-year marriage.
In the end, our Edwardian mansion block, gave us an excuse to get to know each other slowly.
An antiques restorer by trade, when the building's grand wooden staircase needed work, Steve was the obvious man for the job.