Dear Carrie,

I came to your matinee concert on Sunday and I wasn't sure I'd be able to articulate how I felt in a blog post, much less a video review. Even as I'm typing this now, it's already taken me five minutes to write this much as I'm constantly deleting and redrafting. How do you tell someone that they've changed you; given you hope? (Without it sounding like the most cliched thing).

When I booked my ticket a few months ago, I wasn't even sure I'd be able to attend. I made sure I had cancellation protection in case I was unable to make it. I have severe anxiety and a debilitating chronic illness, you see. I've been in and out of hospital for the past few months, but there was something about this concert that I just knew was different. I would be going, no matter what.

I haven't travelled into London apart from hospital visits in 11 months. Almost a year. But here I was, walking into a venue that wasn't familiar, getting a drink, browsing the merchandise, finding my seat - on my own. I never thought I'd ever get to do anything on my own again. (Apart from being housebound, day in, day out). I found my seat; very near the front, to (your) right and anxiously waited.

I was already crying by this point. I'd achieved more than I had done for a very long time, and now I got to hear one of my favourite people sing live for the first time. The opening notes of Pure Imagination started, and your voice filled Cadogan Hall. I closed my eyes, and felt a fresh tear run down my cheek as I became completely and utterly lost in your voice. You came out on stage mid-way through the song and I was filled with something I haven't felt in a long time: hope.

I don't know why, and I'm not sure how, but for the first time in months I no longer felt trapped. I felt free and hopeful that I could still do things I enjoyed; still achieve; still believe.

I sat through the show in utter awe of you. Your presence, your talent, your voice - even your humour! I took it all in, with tear-filled eyes throughout. No one seemed to be singing beside me, but I was singing along to every word; feeling every emotion you were pouring out of each song.

Have you ever felt like you were meant to be at a certain place, at a certain time? I hadn't until Sunday. When Tom came out on stage and you sang When Will My Life Begin/That's When My Life Begins; that was one of those moments for me. When you sang the lyrics:

I was full on sobbing by that point. It felt like you were singing the thoughts inside my head; the daily battle I struggle with (and Tangled is my favourite Disney film...).

Before I got ill, I attended concerts most weeks, but nothing prepared me for how magical your voice would be live. You are the only person I've ever seen live that sounds better live than recorded. You gave me goosebumps. You gave me chills. And you just showed me what the epitome of hard work looks like.

You're an actress, a singer, an author, a recording artist, a performer, a YouTuber - and you still seem like the loveliest, down-to-earth person...and you're gorgeous. You're one of those annoyingly wonderful people that you can't help but love, even though they're good at everything.

I can't even put into words how incredible your guests were. Each one just blended perfectly with your voice. And the relationship you have with Oliver is probably the most gorgeous thing I've ever seen. I had three favourite songs (not that they weren't all fantastic); Let's Go Fly A Kite, Pure Imagination and the Tangled Medley.

I left the concert feeling hopeful, postive and happier than I'd been for a very long time. Keep doing what you're doing and spreading positivity. Whether it's through your videos, your books, your singing, your acting - I'll be there supporting every step of the way. 

Thank you for putting so much love and time into this album. Even though you said you were nervous, you really do seem at home on the stage and the love you have for music was felt by me with every note you sang. Thank you again for being so wonderful, and hopefully I'll finally get to meet you soon (and try to incoherently say this in person).