I gained a humility that I needed in order to balance my audacity. I wanted to find the smartest people who would disagree with me to try to understand their perspective or to have them stress test my perspective. I wanted to make an idea meritocracy. In other words, not an autocracy in which I would lead and others would follow and not a democracy in which everybody's points of view were equally valued, but I wanted to have an idea meritocracy in which the best ideas would win out.

I've never set out to be a spokesperson for women's equality. My experience of working with Amelie Mauresmo gave me a small insight into attitudes to women in sport and, because it was unusual for a male tennis player to work with a female coach, I am often asked about that. Working with Amelie was, for me, because she was the right person for the job, and not a question of her sex at all. However, it became clear to me that she wasn't always treated the same as men in similar jobs, and so I felt I had to speak out about that.

The reason why so many vivid, undeniably convincing characters in novels, films and plays so often failed to touch me was because these characters didn’t connect to any of the other characters in an interesting human relationship. And immediately, this next thought came regarding my own work: What if I stopped worrying about my characters and worried instead about my relationships?

It was hard at first. I craved the soft, chewy, comforting feel of bread. I craved crunchy pizza dough, sweet rolls, and all the foods that I learned contained wheat—things I had never suspected. For the first 10 days or so, I craved these foods, but I focused each day on staying disciplined; and, fortunately, my family and friends—even though they thought I was crazy—supported me in my quest. But as the days rolled along, I began to feel different. I felt lighter, more energetic. The nighttime stuffiness I had lived with for 15 years suddenly disappeared. By the end of the first week, I no longer wanted rolls and cookies and breads; it was as if a lifelong craving had miraculously abated. Every day I woke up feeling as though I'd had the best night's sleep of my life. I was beginning to believe.

GIVE ME THE RESPECT I'VE EARNED AND GIVE IT TO MY WOLF PACK TOO.

I stayed on the path out of fear, not of being eaten by a wolf, but of being cut, being benched, losing my paycheck. If I could go back and tell my younger self one thing it would be this: "Abby, you were never Little Red Riding Hood; you were always the wolf."