I swapped my drab clothes for charity-shop nightdresses, highlighted my hair with Sun In – and realised I didn’t need to apologise for being angry

I had no tribe during my first three years of high school. Desperate to be accepted by the in-crowd, but sick with anxiety if I was invited to one of their parties, I had no idea who I was. I had spots, wonky teeth and my hair was lank. I was kind of gangly and excruciatingly shy. I didn’t fit the mould, and I had no idea you could carve out your own space in the world.

Bombarded with TV shows such as Beverly Hills 90210 and Baywatch, while poring over teen magazines, I compared myself with the glossy, wholesome models that I saw – and felt that I was failing.