I completed my degree at Cambridge later in life than most and with the added diversion of being a single parent. It was at a time when my self-esteem was particularly low, and it showed me what I was capable of, indeed had been capable of for many years.

As well as being employed as Master’s and Bursar’s Assistant at Selwyn College, Sheila Scarlett is also Junior Esquire Bedell – an office dating back to the thirteenth century – one of the University’s part-time ceremonial officers.

I completed my degree at Cambridge later in life than most and with the added diversion of being a single parent. It was at a time when my self-esteem was particularly low, and it showed me what I was capable of, indeed had been capable of for many years.

It proved that I was an intelligent human being in my own right and that people believed in me. The acknowledgement and approval of others was hugely encouraging and provided the sort of confirmation on which I think many of us thrive.

For my generation there was certainly less expectation that girls would pursue further study and, as nobody in my family had gone to university, there wasn’t a precedent to help me challenge that attitude. I went to convent schools until I was sixteen, where politeness and good appearance counted for more than academic achievement. Although I had interviews for university at that age, I didn’t get good enough grades and I convinced myself that I wasn’t good enough. I dare say these days I would have been encouraged to go for clearing, but actually I think I got much more out of doing a degree as a mature student.

I was in my forties when I was encouraged to apply to Cambridge by a friend who is an academic. My initial response was, ‘Don’t be ridiculous. You must be joking,’ but then I decided I’d give it a whirl. I didn’t think for one minute that they’d offer me a place and was completely staggered when they did. Why did I get in? Because I wasn’t stupid and I really wanted to do it. I was completely motivated and, despite having significant other demands on my time, I was willing to focus and make it work. I also had wonderfully supportive children. In fact my older daughter and I applied to university together, we did our UCAS forms together and we waited for our A Level results together. It was all very strange but rather lovely.

“As long as men can’t give birth, I don’t think that absolute equality is possible.”

I am very pleased that her generation seems to have more of an expectation of progress than mine, but at the same time I do have more concerns for my daughters than for my son. They are all making great strides in their careers, but I worry that there is an expectation these days for girls to aspire to have it all. You see women trying to do the impossible and tearing themselves down the middle. Yes, women should have the same opportunities as men, and men should do their share at home. But expecting to have a career that takes them to the top as well as being the perfect mother can leave women feeling guilty on all fronts. Something has got to give, but honestly I’m not sure what the answer is. As long as men can’t give birth, I don’t think that absolute equality is possible.

I do feel discomfort when I think about myself in relation to success. I have a tendency to rate myself against women whom I see as having a profession – a career that includes managerial responsibility. Initially I studied languages and worked for a wine broker, which was exciting and great fun, but I’m not sure I saw myself as a professional woman and in some ways I still don’t. I also wonder what else I could have been capable of doing. In particular I would love to have continued studying formally, but that hasn’t stopped me following my interests in my free time.

“Ultimately, I have been able to take my own advice: ‘Refuse to be blocked by those who don’t rate you as good enough.’”

I remember one of the tutors at our Cambridge induction weekend telling us, ‘You’ll struggle at the start, but the brain will grow muscle and you’ll be able to do things in three terms’ time that you can’t imagine doing now.’ She was absolutely right: the more you listen, read and talk, the more you find you are capable of doing. I look back and think, how on earth did I do my degree, but actually I did and I know I could again. Subsequently it gave me the confidence to apply for the ceremonial post of Bedell at the University, which was something I would never previously have considered. It is a position that gives me a certain profile, and I look somewhat conspicuous with all the gear on, so perhaps that meant I came to people’s attention when they considered nominations for this project.

Actually, it’s okay to feel that you’re not one of the successful people and to be hesitant or under-confident at times. I think most of us experience these sorts of feelings. But despite never really having been encouraged to be daring, I have still taken chances. I have handled the scary and the unknown, and when my personal circumstances changed I was able to make another future for myself. On that basis I suppose I can accept that some people might see me as successful, even if I don’t find it easy to think about myself that way. Ultimately, I have been able to take my own advice: ‘Refuse to be blocked by those who don’t rate you as good enough.’