I am a serial apologiser, a trait I never apologised for until I moved to America and realised I had a problem. Nervous, young and freshly transplanted into a new country, I found myself apologising for everything: other people bumping into me, my accent, wearing the same shirt to class two days in a row. Like so many other girls and women before me, I wasn’t only apologising for rudeness or mistakes, I was apologising for my success, for my appearance, for existing.
Read more here!
Unfortunately, to access this column you do need a Times Subscription. The good news is if you subscribe you get automatic access to the whole of the Times and a lot of articles that are a lot better than mine!