Wearing 90s ripped-at-the-crotch jeans at Rada during an unarmed combat session and showing everyone more than they bargained for.

Years ago, I was trying to get with one of the big agencies and I cobbled together a VHS tape of me in adverts and sobbing in The Bill, and took it United Agents for the attention of Dallas Smith. A week later I went back and said, “Has she looked at the tape?” And they were, like, “Dallas is a he, no he hasn’t and he doesn’t want to,” and handed it back to me.

Giving a speech in high school at a pep rally that wasn’t going so well and the dean unplugged the mic. Apparently, I was rambling and the spirit of the cafeteria was being weighed down.

In my early days of transitioning, I used to come to London and meet for a drink with a group going through the same thing. I used to wear a full wig, and one night I’d drunk too much and fell asleep on the train, and my wig slipped off.

I am a perimenopausal woman, so about two minutes ago, at a dog being adopted on Insta.

Kind, loyal and (slightly) mad.

Always sleep on any decision.

Cold call market research at uni.

It’s already happened – HRT.

So many different types. When I first met my husband, electric and vital. When I first held my boys in my arms, an overwhelming flood of defiant protection and magic.