To my cousin P, who was one of my best mates growing up. We lost him when we were in our 20s and, before he passed away, I was so busy with this stupid thing called life and a brand new kid. He called me and said: “Bro, I’m not feeling right.” And I said: “Bro, you’ve never been feeling right.” And it always sits on my head that if me or somebody else had been paying more attention maybe things would have worked out different. He had extremely rare bowel cancer and died five weeks later at 27.

To my daughter, because she felt that I spent too much time saving other children. I would go to war zones and travel the world for human rights work, and she was missing me.

I’ve apologised to my son, Thomas, for being absent for quite a lot of his first few years, but, as a working mother and breadwinner, I kind of had to be. I like to think I’ve made up for it.

The person who had to empty the bin on that train to Oxford.

As someone who helped people live healthier lives.

My PE With Joe work, over the last weeks.

I cried this morning when I was meditating, for the first time. I had this real feeling of gratitude that my dad survived his addiction.

My mum was only 17 when she had my brother, and 19 when she had me. She was learning the ropes as she went along, and had a heroin addict boyfriend, which wasn’t easy.