With a diplomat father, for whom foreign postings were a fact of life, my siblings and I were expected to attend boarding schools in Britain.

I spent my entire childhood living abroad because of my father's occupation, so we were on long-haul flights all the time.

Does everyone turn into a truculent thirteen-year-old when they go home, or is it just me?

I cry at everything, even the length of the queue at Sainsbury's.

The real me now may not be thin but she's got the cake and, if she likes, can eat it too.

When not eating, I like shopping; although I'm afraid I've become a bit of a cliche.

I wish my parents hadn't made me feel that how I looked was linked to how much they loved me. But I do also see how hard it must be to see your child pile on the pounds and trust they'll find their own way back to a healthy weight.