I CONFRONTED MY SCHOOL BULLIES

I’m perched on a couch in an incense-tinged side room of a yoga studio. My eyes are closed and I’m nodding as a hypnotherapist softly speaks, encouraging me to cast my mind back to the past. So far, I haven’t been made to dance like a chicken or remove any clothing, like I’ve seen TV hypnotists persuade people to do. The session is actually quite relaxing.

An ad on a deals site has led me down the path of hypnotherapy after a looming book deadline has given me an anxious stomach.

The hypnotherapist asks me to think back to a time when I first felt anxious. Apparently, it’ll help my unconscious mind release past hurts. “Was it before, during or after birth?” she prods. “I was 11,” I blurt, surprised to find my fists clenching.

A memory, long buried, has popped into my mind. Of sitting across from a fair-haired boy in year 7 and hearing him loudly remark on my