“Like her [mother], I attempted to give the impression to Vida that I was a perfect person, had no complicated history and had never put a foot wrong in life. (What kind of a role model is that for a child?) Divorce made an honest woman of me. Vida was eight when my marriage began to disintegrate and I couldn't bear pretending to her or anyone else any more. I was sick of trying to appear normal. Vida didn't reject me for showing my true self – that's what I imagined would happen. Far from it, we grew even closer. She especially enjoyed my swearing. (I only swore in front of her when she was older. Everything has to be revealed at an appropriate time.) A child derives a sense of safety from knowing the person who looks after them is respectful enough to be honest. Vida has never rooted around in my cupboards and drawers or turned the house upside down searching for letters and scraps of evidence to help her piece her mother together like I did. On the contrary, she knows too much. She's not fascinated by secrets because I haven't hidden anything from her, not even the ugly stuff.” Parenting AdviceRaising KidsBuilding TrustGood ParentingGood Parents Book:To Throw Away Unopened Source: To Throw Away Unopened
“How can someone who's stood by you your whole life – who helped you empty the contents of the kitchen bin onto the floor when you were seventeen because you accidentally threw away a piece of hash the size of a cocoa nib, or who accompanied you, when she was eighty years old, to the Southbank Cinema on Mother's Day to watch hardcore gay and lesbian sex films because no one else would go with you (ditto a Sparks concert at the Royal Festival Hall) – how can that person, who you've been through so much with and who is now lying in front of you with snow-white hair, pale-grey eyes, soft pink skin and worry lines, not be beautiful?” BeautyUnconditional LoveMother And DaughterMother And ChildGood ParentingLoving MotherGood ParentsSeeing BeautyBeauty ContructsGreat Parent Book:To Throw Away Unopened Source: To Throw Away Unopened
“But somehow, without me noticing it happening, I became someone who after every failure, rejection and mistake can pick myself up, dust myself off and start all over again. That life skill, the first one you need, came from my mother. So thanks to her, despite the rest of my upbringing and my awkward personality, I've survived.” Survival InstinctTeaching ChildrenSurviving LifeGood ParentingSurvival SkillsGood Parents Book:To Throw Away Unopened Source: To Throw Away Unopened
“My mother made me into the type of person who is at ease standing in the middle of moving traffic, the type of person who ends up having more adventures and making more mistakes. Mum never stopped encouraging me to try, fail and take risks. I kept pushing myself to do unconventional things because I liked the reaction I got from her when I told her what I'd done. Mum's response to all my exploits was to applaud them. Great, you're living your life, and not the usual life prescribed for a woman either. Well done! Thanks to her, unlike most girls at the time, I grew up regarding recklessness, risk-taking and failure as laudable pursuits. Mum did the same for Vida by giving her a pound every time she put herself forward. If Vida raised her hand at school and volunteered to go to an old people's home to sing, or recited a poem in assembly, or joined a club, Mum wrote it down in a little notebook. Vida also kept a tally of everything she'd tried to do since she last saw her grandmother and would burst out with it all when they met up again. She didn't get a pound if she won a prize or did something well or achieved good marks in an exam, and there was no big fuss or attention if she failed at anything. She was only rewarded for trying. That was the goal. This was when Vida was between the ages of seven and fifteen, the years a girl is most self-conscious about her voice, her looks and fitting in, when she doesn't want to stand out from the crowd or draw attention to herself. Vida was a passive child – she isn't passive now. I was very self-conscious when I was young, wouldn't raise my voice above a whisper or look an adult in the eye until I was thirteen, but without me realizing it Mum taught me to grab life, wrestle it to the ground and make it work for me. She never squashed any thoughts or ideas I had, no matter how unorthodox or out of reach they were. She didn't care what I looked like either. I started experimenting with my clothes aged eleven, wearing top hats, curtains as cloaks, jeans torn to pieces, bare feet in the streets, 1930s gowns, bells around my neck, and all she ever said was, 'I wish I had a camera.” ParentingSuccessful PeopleParenting AdviceParenting ChildrenGood ParentingGood ParentsHow To Raise A ChildHow To Raise ChildrenParenting Resource Book:To Throw Away Unopened Source: To Throw Away Unopened
“I adhered to this strategy right up to Mum's death, sharing experiences that I probably should have kept to myself, telling tales of drug-taking and STDs over a cup of tea at the kitchen table, graduating to infertility and marriage breakdown as I got older. There was never any condemnation from Mum, although she did gasp and shake her head sometimes. Whenever my life collapsed – which was often – I'd move back in with her, and no matter my age or what I was up to, she always put a hot-water bottle in my bed at night. [...] Mum advised, supported and steered me through my many disasters. Whether I'd said something stupid to someone at a party, made a mistake at work, fallen out with a colleague, was lonely, applying for a job, in a difficult relationship or spiked with drugs at a nightclub, she helped me make sense of the situation and find a way forward.” ParentingParenting AdviceParenting ChildrenGood ParentingGood Parents Book:To Throw Away Unopened Source: To Throw Away Unopened