I think my first experience of heartbreak came from a friendship. Aged around eight, I was the quiet confidant to the class queen. I would spend many of my lunchtimes running between her subordinates and admirers, delivering notes like a messenger pigeon. Loyalty simply was not enough to maintain our friendship, and she eventually sent me packing, spending her break-time with my latest replacement. 

I laugh at this time now and again, but young as I was, this event changed the path of future friendships for me. It proved to be a major knock back for an already introverted little girl, who took this as a sign to further seal herself away from others. Assuming that I wished to progress any relationships, the number of black people in my school in Greater London could be counted on my two hands, and some rejected me due to the simple fact that I was alien to them.

University presented a similar struggle. I felt unsuited to the lifestyle of overcrowded clubs and competitive societies. As much as I learned during this time to be comfortable with both silence and lonesomeness, part of me craved being part of a sisterhood. This proved more challenging, as initiating friendship seemed like the impossible for an introvert.