‘We haven’t spoken before, Harri Kemp passed your details on. I’ve known her for a while, and I’ve been really enjoying your pieces for The Know. We’re aware of the, ah, ongoing situation there, and I was wondering whether you might be available to come and do some work for us. We’re looking for a new freelance weekly columnist, someone young, frank and funny. I think you’d be perfect.’

Is this a practical joke? Is this a very elaborate ruse for the bank to check up on me?

‘Oh. Wow. Right, I’d love to! Is there a theme?’ Do I have to write about sex for the Guardian? I should probably go and have some, soon.

I can hear Ruby smiling through the phone. ‘Oh, excellent! I thought you might take some persuading. Obviously, I’m very keen for something sexy but we’re open to ideas. Did you ever read the Sam Strong column? That’s the spot we’re looking to fill. As long as it’s entertaining, and it’s not a litany of B-list celebrities assembled to launch the latest crappy car, we’re up for anything.’

‘Oh.’ I let this sink in. ‘Sam’s been doing that column for years!’

‘Exactly!’ Ruby laughs again. ‘He’s a bit pale, male and stale for us. It’s definitely time for a shake up. Anyway, give me your email, we’ll get a coffee in the diary, can you do early next week? We’ll get a contract sorted too. I’m so excited about this, Imogen. I think you’re just right for us.’

*

Girls in books pinch themselves. I hold my hand out in front of my face and wiggle my fingers experimentally.

My dream job. No. I check myself. That thought doesn’t quite fit, any more. My dreams are bigger than that.

It’s a job I have dreamed about. A job I’m excited about. Not a job that is going to define me. Or fix me.

For a long time, I confused success with self-esteem. I was constantly prepared to give all of my power away. I thought it was up to someone else to allocate a status to me. I have let my employers decide how I was allowed to feel about myself. Whether or not I was allowed to like myself.

Soon, I will be Imogen Mounce, Guardian columnist. And Imogen Mounce, founding editor of Touch.com. I’m so proud of that. But that will never be all that I am. I was just as worthy, and just as deserving of love and respect, as when I worked in the pen factory.

I’m the one who has been finding my own way. I’m not here to serve someone else’s story.