Everyone knows that marriage is about more than one glorious wedding day. I’ve been married to myself for four years now and it’s a continuous journey of discovery. Because self-love is a journey – not a destination. It’s not like you wake up one day and go: “Right, I have reached perfection. What’s next on the list?”

But I must say, being a sologamist is certainly rewarding. I chose to marry myself because I wanted to demonstrate that self-love should be as important as romantic love. I believe that your relationship with yourself deserves as much attention as any other. After all, the more you deal with your own crap, the less other people have to, right? Everyone’s a winner.

Taking vows of self-commitment and promising to be responsible for my own happiness have proven invaluable. If I have a bad day, I often find myself returning to them, telling myself firmly that I must practice what I preach. It is, of course, not always so easy to face your disappointments, accept your failures and embrace your dreams – but I have tried very hard.

And, in a serendipitous turn of events, one of my childhood dreams came true yesterday. My first novel, Reader, I Married Me, was published on the date of my wedding anniversary.

To celebrate, I led a wedding flash mob through the streets of Brighton to the seafront, where we performed a synchronised dance to The Greatest Showman’s This Is Me!

I’ve never done a flash mob before so I thought now was as good a time as any. Then I had a book launch party at Brighton’s vintage clothing store, Beyond Retro, which is a sartorial treasure trove. They have a wonderful array of wedding dresses from all eras and I chose a new, slinkier number, for my vow renewal.

"Four years ago I married myself – and now I've renewed my sologamy vows"