Some reading the following story may think I’m relinquishing any scrap of credibility I had before, but to be honest, I’m willing to take the risk.

I know it’s not a ‘women’s issue’ as such, but when I heard this week that Canadian crooner Bryan Adams was doing another UK tour, it filled me with more excitement than you can possibly imagine, simply because I have loved that man for the majority of my life.

What is it about certain stars that makes us worship them our whole lives? Most people have heroes and crushes among the ranks of the famous and excessively accomplished – those people who live on another planet to ours that we can only see through a haze of lust, or admiration, but are there that many who carry on that crush through their whole life?

For me, my obsession with Bryan just keeps on growing. Yes, he’s the ‘groover from Vancouver’ that’s usually associated with the over 40s, and here I am not even 30 yet, but I tell you, when I hear that voice, I’m reduced to a gibbering mess.

What’s not to love? Mr Adams has a voice that can melt steel. He sings songs about how amazing women are. He’s a humanitarian, a talented photographer. He was friends with Princess Diana.

Bryan’s by no means your conventional crush, but it’s never really been about his looks for me; more his voice, talent and the fact that he just seemed like a really nice bloke.

It started in 1991. I was four. My beloved Auntie Anne, who lived then and still does, in Germany, was over staying with us and she and my mum were mad about this song that I remember was played everywhere that summer.

I vividly recall sitting cross legged in the front room in front of a tape player, clutching a cassette of Everything I Do and planting kisses on the denim-clad man with a guitar on the front cover.

You’d think the fact that song stayed at number one for about three years (or 16 weeks) would have waned my interest in Bryan, but it didn’t; as I got older and listened to Auntie Anne’s albums of him, I became even more of a fan, because I associated him with her, who I missed so much and only saw a few times a year.

As a youngster I would listen to the song When You’re Gone over and over whenever I missed my auntie, and even now it’s still one of the best ones.

In a way, I drew comfort from listening to Bryan Adams. I still do. I had all his albums and felt like he was singing every song just for me. I prayed I would one day meet a man just like him.

To date, I’ve seen him live eight times and am still fervently hoping one day I’ll be that girl he gets up onstage to sing When You’re Gone with him.

Thankfully it’s not just me who carries these obsessions around with them.

I spoke to my colleague Sarah Mayers about it because the feelings I have for Bryan Adams, she has for Gary Barlow.

Sarah, who’s been a fan for more than 20 years, said: “I’ve loved Gary since the first Take That days, he was always my favourite member. I queued for hours outside HMV for a glimpse of him.”

She’s got all his singles, seen Take That five times and was devastated when she couldn’t get tickets for his first solo concert last year.

But she managed to get them for his latest one, and last week was there wearing her Mrs Gary Barlow T-shirt with pride.

Sarah Mayers, a self confessed die-hard Gary Barlow fan
Sarah Mayers, a self confessed die-hard Gary Barlow fan

“When I was young, it was the whole boyband thing I loved but now it’s like he’s matured and got even nicer.

“You sort of grow up with these people,” she explained.

It’s true. To paraphrase one of his songs, I honestly feel like I know Bryan inside out, even though he wouldn’t know me if he fell over me.

In a way it’s a bit embarrassing to fawn so much over someone you’re never likely to meet.

But there’s also something nice about the fact you’re always harbouring that hope that one day you will, like how I’ll be at his concert in November.

Guess I’m still that four-year-old at heart.