was 24 and doing unpaid work
in an art gallery in west London, when someone noticed a bald patch the size of a 10p piece

on the back of my head. I thought it was strange, but I couldn’t see it myself, so I didn’t worry too much.
At the time, I was very stressed. I’d recently moved to London with my boyfriend, Mike, and we were living with his mother. We’d met at university – he was a mature student and a good painter. I’d been hugely impressed with him but when we moved to London, I realised that I didn’t want to carry on living with him. So I was worrying about everything – leaving him, where I was going to live, what job I was going to do and how I was going to survive. At first, I wasn’t surprised when my hair started falling out. I felt something physical had to happen with that amount of stress.