I started writing for this newspaper in 2002, when I was 22 years old. Canary Wharf, as we recognise it today, was born out of the London Docklands Development Corporation in 1981, meaning both the estate and I enjoyed our 20s in the naughties.

Back then, the newly graduated area, felt like it had two main priorities: work and partying.

We had the tall gleaming office blocks, and a fair number of pubs, though only one opened on the weekend.

Tesco was the only practical shop, and eight of its 10 aisles were stocked with alcohol.

The other two contained a hodge-podge of ready meals and toilet roll, and they didn’t stock potatoes. We were ahead of the game when it came to low carb diets.

When Waitrose opened it was a game changer, when M&S opened it was a life changer.

For the first time, we could buy knickers without having to take the DLR. I feel it echoed my own coming of age (and was very handy for the walk of shame).

Slowly Canary Wharf became more domesticated, and more people chose to live as well as work in the area.

Children’s activity events cropped up in the malls, just as my mates started having babies.

Finally, we were adults. Hectic, stressed and always late adults, but adults nonetheless.

I have grown up alongside Canary Wharf, but sadly the time has come to cut the apron strings.

After 15 years of my life, it’s the right moment for The Wharf and I to part ways.

Thank you for all the memories, the bunking off, the riverside drinks, the dancing in the fountain, the hangovers and the hate mail from cyclists. You will always be my heart of glass.

Information on Angela's ongoing writings including her crime novels Follow Me and Watch Me can be found on her website .

Follow Angela on Twitter @TheAngelaClarke .

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