A first-look at the documentary on Ed Sheeran’s life shows the emotional moment he breaks down in tears while opening up about his wife Cherry Seaborn’s health struggles.
Earlier this month, the singer took to Instagram to share the news that Seaborn, who he’s been married to since 2019, was diagnosed with a tumour while pregnant with their second child last year.
Within the same month, the singer’s best friend, Jamal Edwards, tragically passed away.
These difficult life events changed the course of Sheeran’s upcoming Disney+ docu-series The Sum of It All, something that he discusses in the trailer.
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“Cherry’s health, it was really bad, and then suddenly my best friend Jamal dies,” he explains.
“You guys said, ‘Do you want to make a documentary?’ And I went, ‘Yeah, it should be me in the studio and we’ll play the gig.’
“That’s not what the documentary is.”
The camera then cuts to the ‘Shape of You’ singer in a car as he bursts into tears.
And hundreds of people have offered words of support, with one writing in the trailer’s YouTube comments: “This doc series just proves that even when fans thinks he’s a super figure… he’s just a human with ups and downs just like the rest of us.
“So much respect for Ed and Cherry!”
Another wrote: “I’m so excited for this, he deserves every bit of success and good things in his life.
“You can always see the passion he has for music and expressing himself, that has never changed.”
“Real life comes to all of us, no matter where we’re at,” added a third. “I’m hoping you Cherry and the girls are doing well.”
The upcoming documentary, which also coincides with Sheeran’s sixth studio album release ‘Subtract’, is said to take viewers on a journey into how an ‘unlikely child with a stutter rose to fame to become one of the biggest global music superstars’.
Per the official synopsis: “For the first time, global superstar Ed Sheeran opens the doors to a definitive and searingly honest view into his private life as he explores the universal themes that inspire his music.
“This series follows Ed after he learns of life-changing news and reveals his hardships and triumphs during the most challenging period of his life.”
MY DAUGHTER TOLD ME I WAS TOO OLD AND PATHETIC WHEN I SHARED A PHOTO FROM MY FIRST DANCE CLASS.
The Dance of Dreams
At 70 years old, I decided to step into a dance studio, my heart fluttering with anticipation. The polished wooden floor seemed to beckon me, whispering promises of grace and rhythm. It was time to fulfill my lifelong dream—to dance.
My daughter, however, had a different perspective. When I shared a photo from my first dance class, she scoffed, “Mom, you look pathetic trying to dance at your age. Just give it up.”
Her words stung, like a sharp needle piercing my fragile bubble of enthusiasm. But I refused to let them deflate my spirit. I had spent decades nurturing her dreams, ensuring she never had to abandon them. Now, it was my turn.
I looked into her eyes, my voice steady, “Sweetheart, I’ve spent a lifetime supporting you. I’ve cheered you on during your piano recitals, soccer games, and college applications. I’ve been your rock, your unwavering cheerleader. But now, as I chase my own dream, you criticize me?”
She shifted uncomfortably, realizing the weight of her words. Perhaps she hadn’t considered the sacrifices I’d made—the dreams I’d tucked away while raising her. The music swirled around us, a gentle waltz, and I took her hand.
“Dancing isn’t just about moving your feet,” I said. “It’s about feeling alive, connecting with the rhythm of life. And age? Well, that’s just a number. My heart still beats to the same tempo as when I was twenty.”
We danced then, awkwardly at first, but with growing confidence. The mirror reflected two generations—one hesitant, the other determined. The studio walls absorbed our laughter, our missteps, and our shared joy.
As the weeks passed, my body ached, but my soul soared. I pirouetted through memories, twirling with the ghosts of forgotten dreams. The other dancers—mostly young and lithe—accepted me into their fold. They admired my tenacity, my refusal to be labeled “pathetic.”
One evening, after class, my daughter approached me. Her eyes were softer, her tone apologetic. “Mom, I’m sorry. I didn’t understand. You’re amazing out there.”
I hugged her tightly. “Thank you, sweetheart. But remember, dreams don’t have an expiration date. They’re like music—timeless, waiting for us to step onto the dance floor.”
And so, I continued my dance. The studio became my sanctuary, the music my lifeline. I swayed, leaped, and spun, defying the constraints of age. My daughter watched, sometimes joining me, her steps tentative but willing.
One day, she whispered, “Mom, I want to learn too. Teach me.”
And so, side by side, we waltzed through life—the old and the young, the dreamer and the believer. Our laughter echoed, filling the room, as we chased our dreams together.
In that dance studio, age dissolved, leaving only the rhythm of our hearts—a testament to the resilience of dreams, the power of determination, and the beauty of shared passion.
And as the music played, I realized: It was never too late to dance. 🎶💃🌟
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