Kathryn Gray interviewed by Bookninja

It begins twenty years ago. I am standing in a sports hall, arms crossed, round-shouldered, flat-chested, goose-flesh and all. I am the last girl left to be picked and even then I am taken in a gesture of magnanimity and goodwill. Less accepted than tolerated. These girls, I think - no I’m sure - are supposed to be my friends. But I’ll show them. I lumber around with my arms in the air. I jump up and down on the spot. I cry out for the chance, the ball is passed - away from me. I cry out, the ball arches over me. I cry out and the ball is thrown offside or anywhere - rather than to me. An hour of despair passes like this. Yes, it really is that simple. It all began with being not very good at netball. It all began with shame.