Charlotte Broster, photographer and mum-of-three, tells The Cold Pod Diaries how cold water alleviated depression and anxiety, and revived her creativity.

My intrigue in cold water started three years ago when I relocated to the Kent coast with my young family. It was lockdown, and I started to spend quite a bit of time on exploring the coast with my three children. The sea became good company. A force of life when so much of it had been shut down by the pandemic. It was comforting and consoling during these unsettled times. A safe place. Solace and serenity. The loneliness of lockdown and leaving my old life behind faded when I was there at the beach. Instead of loss, I had a sense of gain.

“I felt lost. Empty. Invisible.”

At this time, I was also trying to find my feet after having children. My littlest was three and I was emerging out of the baby years feeling somewhat dazed, disoriented and detached from the world out there. I’d been working as a photographer for nearly a decade, but I was feeling a sort of artistic “block”. I couldn’t connect with my creativity at all. I was struggling with depression and anxiety. Whilst I loved being a mum, I felt lost. Empty. Invisible. A real lack of identity. I know it sounds like a cliché, but I honestly had no idea who I was or what I was capable of. It was very overwhelming.

“Sea swimming is one big adventure.”

One day, I crossed paths with a group of swimmers wading into the sea in Dover, wearing nothing but their cossies. I watched them enter the wild water, and thought, wow, that’s brave. That’s bold. That’s totally different to anything I’m doing in my life right now. I got talking to a few of the swimmers when they emerged, breathless and exhilarated from the cold. “Sea swimming is one big adventure,” they told me. There it was. The chance to get out my comfort zone and push myself, find out who I was. My reason to go in the sea.

“I finally felt as though I had something which belonged to me.”

My first sea swim was in April. A handful of friends and I got at 5 in the morning to make sure we caught the sun rising over the Channel. The cold water was shocking. Initially, it made me gasp and panic, but my pals showed me how to breathe through the discomfort to reach a calm place. During those five minutes in the sea welcoming in the new day, I felt solitary but safe. Freezing cold but alive. All the noisy niggles in my mind disappeared. I felt exhilarated when I got out. Euphoric, even. There was a sense of the water shaking me awake again and I finally felt as though I had something that belonged to me, that made me feel strong. I felt different after that swim. A better version of myself. In the months that followed, I became braver with the sea, realising that the cold was not my enemy. The very opposite.

“Gradually, the world started to open up.”

Venturing into cold water kick-started a journey of self-discovery. It pushed me out of the rut I was in and into a place where I could grow. It gave me the confidence to be braver with my photography, start a writing group, walk the length of the Thames River, go wild camping, start a regular book club on BBC radio. It also enabled me to connect with a new and exciting tribe. Gradually, the world started to open up. Opportunities started to present themselves.

I started taking portraits on the beaches. Leading people on little adventures. Allowing families to bond. Play. Explore. I watched children conquer their fear of the waves. Go home salty, wind-swept, and happy. I saw women enter the water, embrace their ‘inner wild’ and reconnect with themselves. They got that same buzz as I did, and they told me they felt empowered. They’d seen that they were braver and more daring than they realised. I started to build a photography brand on the theme of water. It became a platform to talk about the themes of identity, getting out of your comfort zone, wellbeing...and the chance to further explore my own connection with cold water.

“It has been rewarding to see people overcome the voice in their head...”

Mental health had become a field I was really interested in, partly due to my own experiences. I started teaching myself about the benefits of cold water on wellbeing. I did a course, networked with experts, attended workshops and retreats, read books, watched documentaries. I established a cold-water therapy programme at a nurturing and healing rehab and to date, I’ve guided around 100 people through the process of an ice bath, suggesting how it may help them relieve stress, alleviate anxiety, and lift low mood. It has been rewarding to see individuals overcome the voice in their head, telling them not to go into the cold water, and take control of their bodies and minds. For many, it has become a powerful tool in their recovery.