For me, ‘ambition’ as a concept always conjured sharp suits, polished shoes, boardrooms and backstabbing. Essentially, it made me think of The Apprentice contestants. Like financial district high rises, it felt hard-edged and money-driven – two things I aspired not to be.

Recently, however, I’ve been reassessing my adverse reaction to ambition. As with many aspects of life now, the pandemic is partly to blame. At the beginning of 2020, I had just started studying for a PhD and, to a large extent, the next three years had felt mapped out for me. I believed I was following a clear path, attached to an institution and – more importantly – a funding plan that would lift me up onto the next rung of the ladder that was my life. Deep down, maybe I thought it was a way to take all the status anxiety and uncertainty that can characterise a person’s late 20s out of my hands.