The right love, feeling wrong
Last year, I went to therapy. This was definitely not my first time in the chair, but it was the first time I’d ever sought out counselling without a major trigger (eg, when everything imploded with X and my marriage and I was desperate for someone new to cry...
Seaweed for breakfast: my childhood in a cult, part 2
So there we were, living in the middle of nowhere. We weren’t at school, and we weren’t really being taught at home, either. I mean – there were some textbooks. We did a bit. Every so often a Schools Inspector would rock up from the Council and check we...
An accidental weirdo: my childhood in a cult, part 1
Back in the day, in the 1980s, I had quite an ordinary childhood in the east end of London, with two parents who liked each other and me, and a small sister who liked our parents but wasn’t that keen on me (it was mutual at that point). My...