‘I went for a tarot reading at Afflecks and I could have cried at what I was told’

When I was younger my best friend would regularly take up new hobbies. One week she would be running cross country for Sale Harriers, the next she would be doing an axel jump at Altrincham ice rink.

A fan of constant reinvention, she would also create makeshift sets in her bedroom to help her adopt new personas. One time, she tried to recreate the inside of a commercial jet, which with a bit of imagination and good will felt like stepping inside of a Boeing 747 - she even stole a food tray complete with a mouldy bread roll for the schtick.

But, it was the time she played clairvoyant which has stuck for me. With her velvet robe, clutch of oversized rings and mystic ball she really did look the part. She claimed she could read my palms and delivered some pretty harsh home truths - we weren’t even 10 at the time.

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I credit her though with my ongoing interest with spiritual practices. From palm readings and tarot to astrology, my teenage years were spent cleansing crystals, placing a little too much faith in weekly horoscopes and throwing my Magic 8 Ball across the room as it lit up with snide comebacks.

My interest as I entered my 20s waned though, as I decided that major life choices - like moving back to Manchester or accepting job offers - couldn’t really be based on my horoscope app alone. Though the constant notifications reminding me to ‘treat yourself well today’ felt like permission to keep buying overpriced coffees.

However, as a milestone birthday crept ever closer,