But the reality is that, throughout all of this, I felt I had to edit myself to get by and get ahead. I know I’m not the only working-class woman who’s done this. And for women of colour, it’s on another level: earlier this year, the Trades Union Congress reported that 31% of surveyed women of colour say they were unfairly passed over for or denied a promotion at work. Many Black women ’code-switch’ to fit in with white norms.

For me, monitoring my voice has been a big factor. I always assumed that professionals in London would associate a regional accent with my upbringing – an upbringing that, thanks to the pressure to be ‘socially upwards’, I couldn’t help but see as being ‘lower’. So, I always made a conscious effort to dilute my Yorkshire tones and keep things neutral.

I was perhaps right to make the assumption, as research by the University of Manchester in 2019 suggested that broad regional accents are a barrier to social mobility. Senior linguistics lecturer Dr Alex Baratta said: “Social mobility can also mean ‘accent mobility’ – individuals can ‘move’ their accents to coincide with a move in postcode.”

But to deny my real accent is to deny my identity. There have been times when family members have pointed out they think I sound ‘posh’. I used to worry they thought I was ashamed. Maybe I was? Playing two roles – north Hollie and south Hollie – has been complicated, and it comes with a lot of guilt, shame and frustration. While I agree that a person’s background should never dictate their future, I wonder if social mobility has created a narrative that someone needs to ‘escape’ from who they are.

Northern accents are set to disappear, and there’s a big problem behind why