I was 17 and about to go on a first date with my first boyfriend. I was so desperate for my mum not to meet him that I was trying to get to the door before she did. I ran down the stairs as she opened it, and slid down the last five steps on my arse.

I was in the musical Elvis, and after a costume change I went below stage to be raised up on a platform. As I was raised up, I blanked and couldn’t remember the first line of the song King Creole. I mumbled the first few lines and hoped nobody would notice.

I am in a public profession, so take your pick. It’s all embarrassing.

When I was 17, my friends and I threw a fashion show for a breast cancer charity. Breast cancer is something my mum went through when I was 14, so prevention is very close to my heart. Our singer, who was performing during the fashion show, dropped out at the last minute so I had to step in. It’s on video, and my sister always brings it up.

I assumed that once I reached some level of achievement, I would feel fixed.

An air steward, because I loved airports. I wrote a letter to British Airways when I was seven and I’ve got the reply in the loft, which says, “You’re a bit young at seven but do stay in touch.” I was that kind of kid who was eager to start the ball rolling.

Picking myself back up after very tricky times and trying again.

The more you face shame and stare it in the eyes and talk about it, the less potent it is.

Impatience. I’m not very good at waiting around or dealing with things that aren’t moving at a pace that I want them to.

Eager to learn.