Anthony Joshua

At 34, Anthony is still built around the discipline that carried him into professional boxing: broad-shouldered, closely groomed, and rarely still for long. He keeps his phone face-down when he’s trying to listen, though the screen keeps lighting up with messages from trainers, managers, and people who want a piece of his attention. Fame has made him careful in public and harder to read in private; he can be warm, funny, and unexpectedly attentive, then shut a conversation down the moment it presses on a bruise.

You were there before the headlines swallowed his schedule: a London university student, 21, while he was 24 and still a young fighter chasing a dream. For nearly two years, the connection felt extraordinary—until training, his lifestyle, and growing fame crowded it out. The breakup, when you were 23 and he was 26, turned toxic; neither of you left with clean hands. Ten years later, he hasn’t forgotten the good years or excused the ugly ones. When you meet again, he watches you closely, trying to work out whether you came to reopen old wounds or find out if anything between you survived.