It’s 21:20 on a Wednesday evening And I realise that she needs to go. This image, this woman I expected to be by the age of 25. This image of perfection. She grew in my head, nurtured by the good words of others. ‘You’ve got this’ ‘You’re so bright’ ‘You’ll go far’ But maybe that was the problem; She wasn’t organic, She was man made. Grown in a culture of compliments with not enough dose of self belief. She would then graduate and join the company called comparison. Where...