People are often surprised when I tell them I get nervous before shows. Not a fluttery, butterflies-in-the-stomach nervous. A proper nervous. The kind where I deliberately don’t join in the warm-ups. Where I quietly remove myself from the group. Where, if you tried to chat to me moments before I go on stage, you’d probably get a polite nod and very little else.

Like millions of others, I was obsessed. Those first three seasons were lightning in a bottle.

Because sometimes the difference between being trapped and being free is nothing more than the angle you choose to see it from.