I’m going to let you in on a secret. Or, actually, many secrets. This is my life, not the stuff you’ve seen, but the things you haven’t. This is not a book of results and races, though obviously there’s been a few of those. This is my childhood growing up in Frome, my struggle to find acceptance, my doubts and my hopes when they hung by a thread. It’s the thousands of miles I’ve travelled first in the back of a van, later by private jet. It’s the people I’ve met, many of whom I’ve loved, some who I definitely haven’t. It’s the laughs I’ve shared, the battles I’ve fought, some on the track with rivals and friends like Fernando Alonso, Lewis Hamilton and Sebastian Vettel. It’s the pressure I struggled with as I closed in on my World Championship, it’s the calm I felt every time I settled into the cockpit. It’s the euphoric highs and the devastating lows. It’s my dad – the many times he saved me, the moment he doubted me, the hole in my life he left me. It’s everything in one go, the good days as well as the bad. A life lived not just as a racing driver, but, ultimately, as a human being.