It used to be that auditions were my job. They came in every week. I’d spend my time, learning lines, preparing, traveling in to the centre of London, meeting the casting people or directors and coming home to wait for the call as to whether I was successful or not.

It was a roller coaster of emotions that my mother found very difficult because inevitably I’d call her with excitement about an upcoming role that  I would be auditioning for. Then a couple of days later, I’d call her to share my anxiety about it. Then I’d call her on the day of the audition in the hopes that she’d have some soothing words. Then I’d do the audition and call her for a debrief. Then there’d be the inevitable wait for news, and I’d call her every day moaning about the lack of news. And then there was…