I've always been intrigued by the power of secrets. When is it justifiable to keep them from the ones we love? And does keeping them irrevocably change who we are?

I have always been drawn to coming-of-age stories and books and movies featuring compelling young characters.

Well, shoes, bags and clutches are usually my big weaknesses - my husband always laughs when I call them 'investment pieces.'

I'm good at keeping secrets. My friends always tell me their secrets because I keep them well.

I think of how each person in a marriage owes it to the other to find individual happiness, even in a shared life. That this is the only way to grow together, instead of apart.

After all, I think, isn't it always about a boy?