Last week, when I decided to rewrite the children’s book I’ve been working on.

I can’t remember when I read, or was told, that he considered it a good thing to spend a short time every day thinking about death, thus getting used to its inevitability and coming to understand that something inevitable is natural and can’t be too bad, but it was in my early teens, and it struck me as a sensible idea. Of course I didn’t set out to think about death in a regular way every day, but I did think about it quite often, and sure enough, it worked. Why coming to see death’s naturalness should have caused belief in an afterlife to melt away, I am unsure, but it did.

A year ago. My understanding of what love is has changed immensely since.

I vowed never to marry, but we got married as soon as we could after lockdown. I used to think it was patriarchal but when same-sex marriage became legal, I thought: OK, great, this institution has finally changed.

Antiques and art – I collect 17th‑century portraits.

I campaigned for a creative industry regulatory body, and that’s now happening in the next 18 months. It’s called CIISA [Creative Industries Independent Standards Authority]. I’m proud that I set the ball rolling and dared to challenge the establishment.

My stepmother died a few years ago but I didn’t make that last hour to have a conversation with her, so I’d like to say sorry for that.

The first time I remember being truly happy was with my children on Ainsdale beach, not far from Southport. I spent £15 on butties, and we spent the whole day by the sea.

To be led by love and not judgment.

As someone who tried, who had dignity, and stuck to what she believed in despite the storms.