"I don't think my dad ever loved me." This is the statement I hear my clients repeating time after time. It's irrelevant who says it, men or women, although it is more common coming from women, given that an unhealthy relationship with their dad, i.e. 'Key Male Figure', tends to reflect in their relationships
Parents have told us they're planning on having a lie in. But I'm sorry to have to tell you parents that the lie-in is not an option as your children want to use this extra hour by having fun! That is why today Action for Children is urging you to say no to the boring snooze-in and instead to make the most of your extra hour by having fun with the children...
My sessions of talk therapy back at university helped my story telling. Every week, I'd walk through one of the colleges, past the restaurant where students were sitting and laughing with each other, past the duck pond where the college cat was watching hungrily from behind the bushes, to a door tucked away behind a wall -- Counselling.
Like your brothers and sister, you all are the most precious gifts that God and Life gave us. We often talk in awe (still!) about how and why we had been chosen to parent these beautiful beings. After all, we were just two ordinary people who went to the pub one evening, sat on the beach, and accidentally made a baby.
I was eight years old when I accidentally walked in on my mum injecting heroin in the kitchen. I'll never forget the confused look on her face - the warm embrace of the opiates blunted any acute feelings shame and panic, leaving her with an ugly, dumbfounded grimace. Luckily, this episode was the turning point in both our lives...
I was brought up in an agnostic house- my parents were not particularly interested in religion and made it plain to us three children that we could do whatever we wanted. In a sense I am grateful to my parents who both came from relatively liberal families and were not that ingrained with God and the rest.
My mother never really wore make up when I was a child. She didn't spend hours in the morning putting her face on, straightening her hair or painting her nails. She never French plaited my hair, dressed me up in frilly clothes that I had to 'keep clean', threw me a mini-makeover party or bought me sparkly princess shoes.
Beyond the fantasy child, the everywhere child, and the policed image of children, we are living in a golden age of films about children, and haven't quite noticed. Movie directors in Iran, Japan, the UK, Holland and elsewhere are releasing masterpieces about childhood. Why is this golden age happening, and why does it matter?
I loved books and enjoyed writing, so I spent my time reading and trying to emulate the styles of my favorite authors. My books and their characters became my friends. At that time, the condition Asperger's wasn't known in the US. Children who would have been diagnosed today were considered odd and treated as outcasts back then.
Whatever the reasons, it can only be a good thing that museums have become more accessible to children, families and other diverse audiences, and I find it difficult to imagine a world where the first sign to come into view at the entrance of one of our renowned galleries or museums reads "NO CHILDREN ALLOWED". Or at least I did until recently.
Christmas at Standingstone - the farm I grew up on in Scotland - was largely a dreary affair. Any fun had to be either sought from within myself or beyond its demises. Both of my adopted parents tended towards the solemn anyway; their sadnesses and failures permeated the already dour and damp sandstone house with a cold seriousness.