‘Of course! Mine was to stop going with the flow so much. Everyone told me that after I turned thirty, I’d really find my confidence, and my voice, and get taken more seriously. But I just felt as though I had less energy to make a fuss. I kept waiting for this magical moment to arrive, I honestly believed that I’d wake up one morning and feel like an adult. After I turned thirty-five, it finally dawned on me that it wouldn’t just happen. I’d have to make it happen.’

Akila is looking at me intently, searching my face for a flicker of comprehension. I wince. ‘I was kind of hoping for that. I thought that maybe when I was thirty, I’d get there.’

Akila’s eyes dart down to the table, then up to the ceiling, as if she’s searching for her words. ‘It’s…I don’t ever want to say it’s harder for me, but…when you’re a black woman, working in an overwhelmingly white industry, you realise that you’re constantly going to be overlooked unless you work out how to advocate for yourself. But it’s exhausting. I have to make calculations the whole time, I’m always weighing up the difference between what feels assertive, when I think it, and what might sound aggressive, when I say it.’

I nod, thinking about how calm and balanced Akila is in the office. Always positive, always full of energy, but always sweet and even tempered. It had never occurred to me that she’d had to cultivate her work personality, simply to survive work.

She adds, ‘Still, I think all working women have that to some extent. We’re told we don’t get paid enough because we don’t ask enough. As if we’re not asking! It’s that no one listens, no one takes us seriously.’

I lean closer. Akila is so charismatic and captivating. I cannot imagine anyone not taking her seriously. But then I think about the number of offices where I’ve been stymied by a series of unspoken rules. In bars, in factories, in all of the places where I’ve been paid by the hour, I’ve been exhausted and miserable but my duties and expectations were pretty clear. In magazine offices, I’ve spent days in total silence, unsure of whether or not I was allowed to speak, let alone whether I could expect to be listened to. I’m desperate to know how Akila took charge of her career. ‘What changed? How did you do it?’