Four years later, I graduated and‑decided to teach English abroad. I‑went to Spain for three years and‑then to Italy for another two. Everywhere I went I‑made friends and had a great social life.

In the summer, I’d return home‑to Manchester to teach at a‑summer school and meet up with‑old school pals.

One of my closest friends became a mum at 18 and, up to her‑eyes in washing and checking homework, she would tell me how‑lucky I was to have such an‑exciting, varied life. “I wish I’d gone to university,” she said. “You have it all, while I’m stuck at home all day.”

Then, without fail, she would add: “Of course, I wouldn’t change a thing. My children are my life.”

When we first had those conversations I’d pity her and feel‑lucky I hadn’t married and‑had‑children so young but, as‑the years went on, I began to feel more like the one who’d missed the boat.

Yes, I had travelled and become a successful teacher but it was clear to see who was‑the happier of‑the two. Now my friend has two‑strapping teenage boys who fill their home with laughter and fun.
 
I’m very glad I got my degree and followed my teaching dream but what she has done is no less of‑an achievement.

In 1999, after a spell in Japan and in Mexico, I married my‑boyfriend of a year in Las‑Vegas. He was a nice guy but we weren’t suited. I wanted a husband and a family, which is why‑I married him, but he‑wasn’t Mr Right and I realised it only a‑few weeks after the wedding.

We divorced in 2001 and I moved from London back to Manchester. Since then, I’ve had a string of failed relationships and now I’m worried I might never get the chance to have children.

I regret splitting up with the boyfriend I had at university. We had a great relationship but I was convinced that we were too young to settle down, so called it‑off.

Like so many girls of that age I‑was sure there was more to life and that marriage and babies would come along when I was ready. Now I see that I passed up my opportunity for happiness in favour of my career.

I’m a victim of my own success. I‑belong to a generation of women who have been taught we can have‑it all when in fact that is uncertain.

We are encouraged to‑get degrees, climb the career ladder and be selfish but no one‑tells you how unfulfilling that‑can become.

Being a mum can be exhausting and frustrating but the rewards outweigh the drawbacks.

I don’t want to be the oldest mum at the school gates but I’m not willing to turn to a donor or have a one-night stand to have the baby I’m desperate for.

Last year, my sister had her third‑baby at 40 and that gives me some hope but I know my fertility is not guaranteed.

My biological clock is ticking so loudly I’m sure every man I meet can hear it, yet I refuse to give up looking for my soul-mate and the‑family that I hope will come soon after.