The first time I ever felt like a Very Serious Writer, when Mum bought me a blue marble-covered notebook for my writing, with a hologram fairy sticker on the front.
The quietness of the time I was too sick to go to school for months, the restfulness of just reading and drawing and listening to music and walking every day, the hilariousness of everybody thinking I’d had a secret baby when I finally went back to school.
Sarah and I taking a whole set of real china with lukewarm tea and biscuits, and squeezing ourselves into the tiny, wooded gap between the fence and her tennis court to have a tea party when we were probably far too old for tea parties.
Seeing Nathan at the end of the aisle waiting for me; seeing him tear up as he read his vows to me.
The first moment when Posie actually showed that she loved me, when she ran to me and wanted to be picked up after being scared by a cat, after ten long months of acting like I was holding her hostage.
The time that my uncle tried to convince me that I wouldn’t like oysters, but I certainly did.
When I worked at Myer in the city, and I would go downstairs to the food court to buy lunch for me and the Big Issue seller called Chris who had four children and a wife that left him after he was in an accident and had an acquired brain injury.
A watch that Dad got me – jaunty green metal on a leather band, with a little black cat in the middle and a mouse that ran around in a circle instead of a second hand.
When my psychologist, who I hadn’t seen in years, called me one night out of the blue to tell me that he’d been to Easter Island and that I should go too one day.
The first dollar I made from writing, then the first hundred, then the first thousand.
I was in a park to take a big family photo for my grandparents, with my long hair and my pink fluffy dress, and a little girl came up to me and asked if I was a fairy – I said yes, of course.
Stealing a kiss behind a tree when Nathan was meant to be going to a concert and his friends were waiting for him, back when we were each other’s happy secret.
Seeing my parents’ faces when they saw me in a cap and gown at my graduation ceremony.
The time I spent last year in Tokyo and Taiwan, the time in my life when I have felt most free.
Zooming down the summit at Falls Creek with my sister like total pros until we both had cataclysmic crashes a couple of metres apart in a patch of trees, and laughing so hard at how we looked like such disasters that people actually stopped to try to help us.
All of my times in Ubud at my favourite hotel, where I always have nothing to do except sleep, swim, eat, read and think as much as I want or of nothing at all.
When Rupert stole lamb chops from our dinner plates on his first night with us, totally shameless.