The Cinderella Law - let's be realistic.

On March 31st, the Government announced that they were proposing a law against severe emotional abuse of children. It was quickly renamed the ‘Cinderella Law’.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-26814427

http://www.actionforchildren.org.uk/campaigns/campaigns-blog/2014/april/why-we-should-talk-about-child-abuse-and-not-about-cinderella-#.U2EfUF6DTwI

I believe this law is unworkable and successful prosecutions will be impossible. The winners will be the lawyers.

I support action to reduce any type of abuse of children and my favourite charity is ChildLine. I support as much discussion as possible on the subject and what follows is my pennyworth.

The proposal is for a law which states: 

Emotional abuse can include continually singling out a child, humiliation, repeated verbal attacks or forcing them to suffer degrading punishments.

If the law, as it stands today, sometimes has problems proving what has caused brain damage or broken limbs in childhood, how can the law interpret what a child experienced and feels is humiliation or a degrading punishment? And who is administering the abuse and will face prosecution?

The level of abuse is complex too. Most abusive verbal comments in childhood, can be thrown aside and dismissed, as the child matures emotionally into an adult. Sometimes, one throwaway comment can cause a lifetime of emotional health problems. The problems are not black and white. The context, tonality and interpretation will all have to be taken into account. 

Action for Children appears to focus on parenting, but emotional abuse as listed above, can come a variety of people.

• Parents
• Grandparents
• Siblings
• Other children.
• Other family members
• Teachers and school staff
• Church leaders
• Youth organisations leader

Will they all be included? They should be if the law is to be credible. But I suggest that the consequences will be unworkable.

The majority of mental health problems are actually emotional health problems. The majority of emotional health problems arise from a fundamental feeling of ‘not being good enough'.  Feeling not good enough to be loved or to receive attention in healthy ways being the main ones. The majority of these ‘not good enough’ feelings arise in childhood and could be attributed to an action that may be construed as emotional abuse by the new law.

This is one of the reasons medication isn’t always effective, but solution-focused therapies working on emotions, thoughts and behaviours can more successful in helping an adult manage their emotions in a more mature way.

There is no denying that emotional abuse exists and it can be very cruel and traumatise young people. It can traumatise older people too. But it will be impossible to prove in a court of law. Surely, every individual can say that at some point in their life, they were criticised, humiliated, punished and teased by one or several people. Perhaps they were, but was it emotional abuse?

The following are real cases. Would they, could they, should they come to court?

• The middle-aged woman with a travelling phobia, which was putting her career in jeopardy. It was rooted to feelings of inadequacy because at her eighth birthday party, her  mother welcomed a friend to her party by saying, “oh don’t you look pretty?” “Should I tell my mother that she ruined my life?”, she asked.
• Parents who don’t support their child in their activities, leaving a resentful adult. eg: The father who only enjoys motor sports and so never watched his son play football, even when he was in competitions.
• The man whose marriage broke up due to his tantrums. Often around times when his wife and children were going out and he couldn’t join them. Rooted in a childhood, where he had to stay in and do piano practice and wasn’t allowed to play out with friends.
• The woman whose adult anxiety was driven by her older siblings telling her that she was a child of woe because she was born on a Wednesday?
• The sixty year old, who told me recently that their life was ruined when their brother was born when he was five and his mother became unwell.
• The mother who couldn’t take her children into town shopping or to London to see the sights, because of a pigeon phobia. Rooted in siblings terrifying her with a feather duster and saying her pillows were full of dead birds.
• The numerous people with disabling problems with perfection due to parental/educational admonishments if something wasn’t completed perfectly. 
• The excruciating embarrassment that teenagers can feel when with their parent in company.
• Children smothered by ‘helicopter parenting’, who don’t know how to manage adult life events on their own.
• Healthy children still in nappies in primary school.
• The numerous relationship problems arising from one parent transferring their suppressed anger and resentment, often quite unconsciously, to the child that most resembles their partner.
• The feelings of humiliation of always being chosen last in team games at school.
• The constant being ‘picked on’ by a teacher or organisation leader.

For physical and emotional abuse by a grandparent and the reasons behind it, Felicity Davis’s childhood makes sobering reading.

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Felicity-Davis/e/B006TZ8A84

If the law is aimed at parents, what about the emotional mayhem caused to children by:

• Parents separating and divorcing.
• Parents/grandparents dying.
• Parents with addictions and obsessions.
• Parents/siblings with ill health problems.
• Famous or high achieving parents.
• Parents who are too liberal or too strict.
• Redundancy.
• Relocation.

As I’ve gone through life, I’m quite surprised that its other people who can recall incidents of humiliation, degrading punishments and verbal attacks, of which, I was on the receiving end. I recall many, but not all. Most of it was due to people who were stressed, using acceptable language and behaviour for that time in history or just peer group behaviour.

My own behaviour? Could my children, my school friends, the children I cared for, find a reason to blame me for something. Probably.  That throwaway comment, the loss of temper, the moment of frustration, the immaturity, the toe-curling embarrassment.

Rather than repeat myself, one of the chapters in the book is about blame. I’ve ‘cut and paste’ parts of the chapter before its final edit. 

                                         Chapter 12

                          “It’s not my fault. They did it.”

                                Taking Responsibility

Quote:   “When you blame others, you give up your power to change.” Robert Anthony 

Why do we, as adults, so readily blame others for actions that we have personally taken? Because we did it as children and haven’t grown up to take mature, adult responsibility. We were frightened that we’d get into trouble, so said anything that would take the blame away from us. Did we really like ourselves then when we dumped someone else in it? It might of got us out of immediate trouble, but did it make us feel good about ourselves? Immediately, yes probably. Later on though?  

It’s funny when we hear children saying silly things like “It wasn’t my fault, it was his or hers”, especially when it’s obvious it wasn’t. But is it any sillier than us saying “ It the government’s fault” 

Here are some everyday blaming statements. It’s wasn’t my fault...

• He wouldn’t get out of bathroom
• She didn’t put the alarm on
• It was the dog/cat/kids
• The weather 

One of my favourites:

“ It’s not my fault, I wasn’t told.” “ Did you ask/listen?”  “ I shouldn’t have to”

Sports people provide endless illustrations of blaming something or someone else. A French player Zinadine Zadane,  who was playing in his last match, head butted an Italian opponent in the chest. In front of three billion people he didn’t get away with it, but what was his excuse. “The Italian had insulted his mother”. A teacher on a radio phone- in was in despair. “How can I teach my pupils to take responsibility. Every day in the playground, I hear, “ he called me mum a rude name.”

More recently, another footballer bit an opponent’s arm. The next day, children were doing a ‘Saurez’ in the playground and biting other children. 

I’m picking on footballers, because they get enormous publicity, but racing drivers, cyclists, golfers and tennis players all can behave in an immature, childish way. John McEnroe, the American tennis player is probably still the best example of stunted emotional growth ever seen and that was back in the 1970s. 

Footballers aren’t the only role models that we learn from. It’s astonishing how many politician’s mistakes are the media’s fault, when they are found out. 

When it comes to ourselves, there’s a whole army of institutions to blame:

• The speeding fine is the government’s fault.
• Our bounced cheque is the bank’s fault. 
• Being overweight is the food manufacture’s fault. 
• Being late is the transport company’s fault
• Getting drunk is the pub’s fault.
• Going to bed late is the TV company’s fault.

One of my husband’s colleagues was describing a relative, “"It was not that the glass is half full or half empty, but a case of 'Who's been drinking out of my glass?”

There are also so many people to blame: family, neighbours, teachers, classmates, bosses, colleagues, the weather forcaster.

Then there is the biggest of all. The fault of birth. Parents can’t win, but then Philip Larkin knew that, with his iconic poem, ‘This be the verse’ and it’s famous first line, “They f**k you up, your mum and dad”, which I’ve had quoted to me many times. (It's the 2nd verse that's more important.)

I have also heard all these as an explanation for present difficulties:

• I was an only child/I  was in a big family/I was the eldest child/I was the middle child/I was the youngest child”
• I wasn’t loved/ I was loved too much”
• I had no freedom/I had too much freedom”
• They didn’t care what I did/They cared too much what I did
• My parents divorced/My parents stayed together”
• I was suffocated/I was given to much independence”
• I was made to go to university/I wasn’t given a chance to go to university”
• My mother worked/My mother stayed at home”
• My parents divorced/My parents stayed together.”
• I was spoilt/I was neglected”
• I went to a school that was too academic./I went to a school that didn’t stretch me.”
• I’m an Aries/I was born on a Wednesday.”

and so on and so it goes on and a picture emerges. When something happens that we don’t like, we will tend to put the blame on to something/someone else.

Where is personal responsibility?

We do not live in isolation. We touch one another in our lives. Our words and deeds are like a pebble we drop in the water and the ripples can go on and on and on......But who threw the pebble? 

Do we blame our actions on someone or something else or do we take responsibility for our own actions?

©AlisonRRussell2014

Let the past go.

       
       The monthly column in the York Press. Published April 7th, 
       2014
              http://www.yorkpress.co.uk/features/health/11131659.Mind__body___soul__Put_the_past_behind_you/
       
       Plus added paragraph*.

April’s Column

There were times recently, when I felt as if I was being hurled around the universe in Dr Who's Tardis. No adventures in the future, but numerous trips, both physical and emotional, into the past. These included two funerals, a college reunion, a BBC5Live anniversary reunion, a grandson in a school concert playing a superb Beatles medley and the first Mother's Day after my mother's death last year.

Emotions experienced ranged from hilarity, laughter, poignancy, joy, sadness to tears. To my surprise, most tears trickled down my cheek at the school concert.

Over two weeks, I met some wonderful, inspiring, courageous, ordinary people. People who reminded me of past loves, hurts, adventures, successes, failures, hopes and dashed expectations.  And that's the point. Whatever the experiences, they were all in the past.

It was boys at the concert that really bought this home. Two hundred teenage boys full of expectations of a future, just as I was, when listening to the Beatles music in the 1960s.  Expectations of life that will turn out to be nothing like they may be imagining. 

I discovered as a psychotherapist, that the majority of reasons people become unwell with emotional health problems, is that they are endeavouring to change things in their life that cannot be changed.  Too often people want to change the past and get stuck in therapy, on medication or with addictive behaviours, trying to do the impossible or waiting for the impossible to happen.

          * It came towards the end of a residential study week for the   
       psychotherapy diploma in 2000. The subject under discussion
       was 'Spare Capacity'. The tutor explained that, as therapists
       we should make sure we had 'spare capacity' for the work we
       were about to undertake. Physical and emotional spare        
       capacity.  I would add ethical principles too.

       So it was in 2010, when three years of family illness elsewhere
       in the UK, a house renovation and move, a downsizing of the
       practice and writing about the subject matter of emotional 
       maturity, that one day a client sat in front of me and my
       feelings were ones of frustration. Frustration that the client
      wanted to cling on to the past, believing it would change. They
      were not ready to change the present and future.

       I went home and knew that I had no spare capacity left. No
       spare capacity to 'care'.  I knew that I shouldn't see clients
       anymore. I couldn't be true to my ethical principles and run an
       ethical practice.

       I still felt I could help people and loved writing. As a result
       in 2013, the book was published and it gives me a deep sense
       of satisfaction, when feedback confirms that I made the right
       decision.
  
      Reflection

Imagine a rainbow.

It could be a memory of a real experience, or a figment of the imagination. 

We become lost in wonder at the rainbow’s form and the spectrum of rich colours in a changing sky. 

We are momentarily entranced and we marvel at the rainbow’s natural beauty and its transient nature.

Our eyes wander to where the end of it disappears... The image fades. 

It was a moment of innocent wonder and curiosity. 

For a few precious seconds the intrusion of our everyday activities was excluded. 

No harm was done. In fact, we may even feel uplifted.

Now, let us imagine another rainbow. 

Again, we become entranced by it, but this time we concentrate on where the rainbow ends. 

We remember the stories and myths we heard as children. 

Is there really a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow? 

A pot of gold that would provide a resolution to all our problems? 

We want it, and we want it now!

Leaving common sense and reason behind, we chase the end of the rainbow, again and again. 

We keep trying, but the end is just out of reach and always unobtainable. 

We feel disappointed, frustrated and weary. 

Will we ever reach it? No. The pot of gold of resolution is the delusion in the illusion, but we continue to reach for and chase the end of the rainbow. 

In fact, the more we try, the more we can become deluded. 

We can become emotionally and physically unwell.

©AlisonRRussell2014

The last straw, the tip of the iceberg or some inaccurate memory matching?

A minor incident this week reduced me to tears. It was a silly misunderstanding. (How often does that happen?) The incident was insignificant, but my feelings were not.  

As ever, fascinated by how my brain was reacting, I found one part of me emoting, while another part was analysing the reasons why. Even though I wanted to justify my thoughts and behaviours as circa March 2014, I knew that deep down, this silly incident had touched a nerve. A nerve with a long root. A root that reached back to childhood. 

I felt like a wronged child. A child who had no place in the present day incident. A child (mini-me), who was trying very hard to hijack the adult.

In IT terms, I have described these emotional memory matches like a Google search. A word is put in the search engine and up comes pages of matches, most of which are quite unhelpful. Often the resulting incorrect, inaccurate or askew memory matches can lead to disabling thoughts and actions. This happens very quickly and can explain phobic and traumatic reactions.

Trying hard to keep control, rather than lose it and make matters far worse, I turned my attention to what really needed doing. I needed to catch a train. This involved a ten minute walk to the bus stop. I left the building, still upset and trying to justify my feelings. Five minutes down the road, I realised that in my emotional (trance) state I had left my handbag behind. Furious and trying not to take personal responsibility, I turned and walked quickly back, breaking into a jog at times.

I collected the bag and as I started walking again, as fast as was comfortable, to the bus stop, I realised that I didn't feel over emotional anymore and the damp eyes had dried up. Interesting. Evidence of the power of exercise and focusing on something else for ten to fifteen minutes, called a distraction technique.

My brain hemispheres had switched. My emotional brain, the amygdala, located in the right brain hemisphere stopped being in charge as the left brain hemisphere, in charge of logical thinking, took over. My emotional arousal levels lowered. I found it fascinating. Using this ability to force the hemispheres to switch is part of helping people to reduce their own levels of emotional arousal when they are unhelpful. But so often we can't be bothered to keep at it for ten to fifteen minutes. eg: Putting off the craving that accompanies addictive behaviours. In my case, I had little option.

In bygone days, before I learnt about the working of the brain, I could 'blow up' at small incidents, not understanding that really the root was about something much deeper and older. As a teenager, my daughter became used to the phrase, "this is just the straw that broke the camel's back." We laugh about it...now.  What I meant was that my head was dealing with an in-tray of varying stresses and whatever the small incident was that had happened, was the final stressor that caused overload and the brain fuse-box to blow-up.

This happens with many parents/carers and children. It's no wonder that children are bewildered when parents/carers lose the temper over something relatively small, while perhaps keeping calm over something more important.  This can be observed dramatically in cases where a child being treated aggressively by one parent/carer, verbally or physically, resembles a parent/carer who has fallen out of favour with the aggressor. It works in other person to person dynamics too.eg: workplace, schools etc:

The ten to fifteen minute trick to switch brain hemispheres and take control, can be used most effectively, if we perservere. 

When I'm travelling, I often stay in Ibis hotels. They have a fifteen minute contract. If a problem is not sorted in fifteen minutes, then the room is free of charge. There is an excellent illustrated card, or used to be, left in the room that advertises this fact. Somehow a copy found itself in my luggage!

On the front, it says, 'Keep Cool' and suggests the following, while waiting for the problem to be remedied:

1. Five minutes to breath. Sit in the lotus postion, close your eyes and breath in deeply. (They should add, breath in deeply and slowly, hold breath and breath out slowly.)

2. Five minutes to tone up: sit with a straight back, stretch out your arms and bend your body forward as far as you can go.

3. Five minutes to relax: Pull your knees up against you chest, put your chin on your knees then rock forward and backwards and from side to side.

This would be so useful in workplace situations too. I'm sure most hotel customers ignore the suggestions and dismiss the words.

We shouldn't. It works.

©AlisonRusell2014

See beyond the clouds

The monthly column in York Press on Monday, March 10th 2014.
http://www.yorkpress.co.uk/features/health/11065570.Body__mind____soul__See_beyond_the_clouds/?ref=arc

My husband was in a lift in an office building.  As the doors opened, a woman said, quite randomly, “ Aren’t birds wonderful? It doesn’t matter what happens to them, they always begin a new day singing.”  I’m not suggesting that human beings can get up each day with their hearts bursting with joy, despite awful events that may have befallen them the day before, but nature can make us think. There is much that provides each of us with the lessons of life and shows us what to do with our resources – if we want to learn from them. 

At the moment, the gardens, hedgerows, fields and parks and beginning to burst into bud and flower. Whatever the winter provides, too dry in 2012, too much snow last year and too much rain this winter, vegetation springs to life again. It adapts. One of the reasons for the stoical, adaptable British character has been attributed to the weather. I recall my geography teacher telling us that, “Britain doesn’t have a climate, it has weather.”  Most weeks we have to manage thwarted expectations and just get on with it. Taking a niece to a theme park, we got onto a ride in the pouring rain. The attendant said, “do you mind if I ask, why do you come here on a day like this?” He had a point, but my reply was, “ because my niece is visiting, this is what we planned, so we’re just getting on with it.” Nature doesn’t blame and make excuses.

Outside can be our classroom.  Snowdrops are one of the most fragile flowers in the plant world. It is so easy to crush the stem, even with careful handling, yet they come through the earth when it’s at its hardest and coldest – they thrive in those conditions. A fresh dumping of snow can arrive, disrupting people’s lives, yet the snowdrop still survives.

A rose bed in winter can look a sorry sight, full of bare twigs. Cut them back, surround them in manure and a few months later, they produce colourful, sweet smelling, beautiful flowers. 

The sun is always in the sky during daylight; it’s just that sometimes cloud hides it. Taking off from an airport in the pouring rain and going up through the clouds never fails to lift my spirits. Rainbows too.

Reflection

This is an adaptation of a traditional story, which is a favourite teaching tale.  A man was sitting in a park, on his lunch break. He noticed a chrysalis on a shrub. He watched, fascinated and enthralled as he saw a butterfly begin to emerge.  After a time, the butterfly stopped moving. The man thought the butterfly was stuck and decided to help.  With the utmost care and very gently, he fully opened the chrysalis. The butterfly fell to the ground crumpled and dying.The man had failed to understand that nature had made the butterfly have to struggle to give it life and freedom.

©AlisonRussell2014

It's going 'Cold Turkey', stupid!

It was 10.30am on Friday, January 31st, 2014.  Adrian was driving us to a nearby town for a funeral. He wondered whether there would be enough time to have a cup of coffee somewhere, before going to the church.

That would be nice, I thought. Visualising the smell and taste of coffee was tempting. I wanted a coffee, but it was Friday. A weekday. I don't drink coffee on weekdays.

Crash! Bang! Clang! A penny dropped. Surely not? It couldn't be. I haven't been that stupid have I?

Three weeks later and it looks as if I may have been.

My liking for black coffee began back in 1966 at a vending machine. I pressed the wrong button and a black coffee was dispensed, instead of a white one. I didn't have enough time or money to change it. I drank it and have never drunk white coffee since. I also have a life long loathing of brown tea.

Thirty years ago, I realised that drinking coffee in the late afternoon or evening was giving me palpitations at night, so reduced my coffee drinking to morning only or had decaffinated coffee. As the years went by, so my liking for a strong coffee increased and preferably using freshly ground coffee. I never sweetened the drink, which, frustratingly, gave me nothing to give up in my coffee, when on a diet.

The years passed and the coffee got stronger, so much so, that I'd rather go without a coffee, than have a weaker one. I started to generally, only have coffee at breakfast. I enjoyed it so much that two mugs became normal.

In 2013, a mostly benign hiatus hernia started to cause more discomfort. I knew I should lose 20lbs or so, but on reading up on the complaint,  I guessed that two mugs of strong black coffee every morning may not be helping. I decided to reduce the amount to one mug and then keep it to weekends only, as a treat.

As I've said, I loathe brown tea, but purely for health reasons, had trained my palate to tolerate weak green tea, with a flavour.  I drink that on weekdays. What a contrast!

I am fortunate to generally keep in good health, with just a sign of arthritis in one finger joint.  During the summer last year, I became more aware of the aches and pains of ageing. Or was it? My father, had kept himself extremely fit by regular walking and climbing thirty stairs to his flat every day, until he was 89 years old. As the aches and pains increased, I started to hold on the the stair banister at home, when going upstairs. I would often think how appalled my father would be to see me. I rarely took any medication, as I wasn't in any pain, just stiff and achey, like the flu. This included every finger joint too.

I visited the GP and asked for a blood test. I needed to know if it was osteoarthritis.  If it was,  I would know what I was up against and deal with it accordingly. I had various tests done and they all came back negative.

Last Autumn, Adrian's illness and recovery took over in importance and 2014 started. I still felt the same and as I climbed the stairs, on occasion, I allowed myself to wonder how long it might be until a chair lift would be required. I'm not being melodramatic, just stating what seemed to me, to be the future.

As a therapist, one question that could often elicit a helpful response, was '"when doesn't this problem happen?" While there are some conditions, illnesses and problems that are constant 24/7, generally most people can identify a period of time when the problem is less or doesn't exist at all. Therein lie the clues for the therapist, doctor or practitioner.

What had been staring me in the face, but I had been blind to, was that the stiffness and aches were better at the weekends and at the beginning of the week. Sometimes I would have a small, weaker coffee at work on a Monday or Tuesday.

Why does the penny drop when it does, is a question I ask in the book? It fascinates me.

On Friday, January 31st, I had climbed into our old Land Rover awkwardly. The step up had begun to  feel too high and my previous agility was lacking. I was feeling below par.

So, why, when Adrian mentioned having a coffee, did my brain click into gear? Within seconds I was Googling, 'caffeine withdrawal, aches and pains'.

There it was. A connection.  Loads of connections. Of course, I knew about caffeine withdrawal headaches, but not the aches and pains. Could this be the answer? Had I been putting myself into 'cold turkey' every Monday or Tuesday? It would make so much sense.

I decided to take things slowly. The following week I kept to the same routine, so wasn't surprised when I felt increasingly stiff and achey, as the week passed. 

The last two weeks I have enjoyed one strong, black coffee every morning. No stiffness in my lower body and 90% less in my hands.  I can climb the stairs quickly and without holding on. I mentioned it to the GP, when asking about an appointment about the hernia. She looked embarrassed and covered a mug of coffee on the desk. "I know", she said, "I tried to give up coffee, but felt so terrible that I'm back on it."

Was I stupid? I think so. I spent all my years in practice, helping people discover the connection between the mind and body, including the importance of good nutrition and mental health.  Helping people understand the acute problems that withdrawing from any medication too quickly, can cause. I can't believe that I didn't see the blindingly obvious signs myself.

A client I saw a decade ago came to mind. Her nutrition was awful, because she cared more about her horse than eating healthily. She changed her diet immediately and made a dramatic recovery. She was elated and said, "I was feeding my horse and dog, better than me."

Where could it have ended? Like much else in my life, which I will be addressing in another blog.  Being offered medication, instead of sorting out a nutritional or stress related connection. That's why I'm cross with myself. I know the connections. I know about food and mood diaries. But I was blinded by my age and an acceptance that it was to be expected.

I have a choice too. Do I work through the withdrawal and have a caffeine-free life? I'm not ready for that yet, but if I have to, I will.  I'm losing weight again and I hope this will help the hernia. Perhaps I should stop lifting heavy bags of compost in the garden too?

I shall wait and see.

Two of my favourite text books on the subject are:

Optimum Nutrition for the Mind by Patrick Holford

The Antidepressant Solution by Joseph Glemullen, MD

@AlisonRRussell2014

Loving the healthy way.

This is February's column in the York Press, Healthy, Beauty and Wellbeing section, dated Monday February 10th, 2014.
http://www.yorkpress.co.uk/features/health/10999556.Loving_the_healthy_way/

Next Friday is St Valentine's Day. A day that can bring each of us a spectrum of emotions. Not only may we have expectations of the day, but we also hold memories of past Valentine Days. The more we have experienced the larger our memory store will hold. Good, bad and indifferent. Joyous and heart-breaking. The earliest memories I hold are, of schooldays and girls boasting about their Valentines, while I had received nothing. Eventually, one year I received my first one, silly that I can still remember it. A squirrel saying, 'I'm nuts about you'. It’s a shame really, because I certainly wasn't nuts about him.

Some people say that it’s just a modern invention or American and just for businesses to make money. The business angle is certainly true, but St Valentine and romantic love have been celebrated for centuries. My grandfather was born on February 14th 1885 and was given Valentine as his middle name.

Human beings have a basic need to love and be loved. If these needs are met healthily, then life can be good. But for all the smiles, hugs and good feelings, there is another, less attractive, ugly side. Where the need to give and receive love can cause problems. Tragic problems. I belong to an organisation called Soroptimist International, the York Ebor branch. The clubs in the York region support and promote an anti-grooming initiative. In a reflection below, is a list that was created with young girls in mind, but is suitable for all children and adults, all genders, in any relationship, in any situation.

Reflection:

I wish that on this forthcoming Valentine's day that you can recognise the signs of emotionally mature love in the Loves Me column.

Loves me                                                       Loves me not
Makes me feel safe                                        Is jealous
Makes me feel comfortable                           Is possessive
Listens to me                                                 Tries to control me
Values my opinions                                       Gets violent, loses  
                                                                       temper quickly.
Supports what I want to do in life                 Always blames me
Is truthful with me                                         Is sexually demanding
Admits to being wrong                                  Keeps me from seeing    
                                                                       friends & family
Respects me                                                   Makes all the decisions
Likes that I have other friends                       Embarrasses me in
                                                                       front of  others   
Makes me laugh                                             Hits me
Trusts me.                                                       Makes me cry
Treats me as an equal                                     Is always ‘checking
                                                                        up’ on me   
Respects my family                                        Takes my money and
                                                                        other things
 Accepts me as I am                                        Teases, bullies and
                                                                        puts me down.
 Understands my need for time alone             Threatens to leave me 
  or with family                                               if I don’t do what I’m
                                                                        told.

 In a perfect world, we would all have relationships in the left Loves Me, column, but this is an imperfect world. At home, the workplace, school, college, clubs, in fact anywhere, if there is a relationship in your life that ticks some lines in the right hand, Loves Me Not, column, please ask someone for advice and support. 

NB: I would add to the newspaper column here and write that the person displaying behaviours in the Loves Me column is emotionally mature, while the person displaying behaviours in the Loves Me Not column is emotionally immature. Both the giver and receiver need help.  

©AlisonRRussell2014

An unplanned future.

On Friday, January 17th, 2013, I read a letter in a national newspaper from a woman called Catherine Purtnell. She was responding to an item in a previous edition about 15 year old children having to think about a career. She wrote that she was 25 years old, a mother of one and had no idea what she was going to do in her life, while friends already had careers.

I wrote an open letter to her and sent it to the newspaper. Today they published an edited (understandably) version as their lead letter.

This is the original.

Dear Catherine

I read your letter published on Wednesday, January 15th and smiled. 

My mind wondered back to the days when I was 25. A mother of two, helping to supplement the family income by cleaning houses, in the village where I lived. I didn’t worry about any career, as I had already fulfilled the expectations of my life.  I had trained and worked as a nursery nurse, married and now had my own children. I imagined an uncomplicated future of motherhood, followed by grandmother hood. 

The children went to school, there was a recession and I needed to earn some more money. I returned to nursery nursing on a maternity unit. I loved it and had no reason to believe that I wouldn’t be there until retirement at sixty.

Three years later my husband changed his job and became a shift worker. This was incompatible with my shifts and I had to resign. Fortunately the local playgroup was looking for a leader and I stepped into that role. I became Auntie Alison and could see the future as one where I would be looking after the children of the children that I was looking after. I supplemented my income by becoming an early morning shelf-filler in Waitrose. 

My income was better at Waitrose than the Playroup and after six years I resigned and became a full-time shelf filler. I became proud of my shelves and knew my product well enough to be asked to do the ordering. Management offered me a management training course and I started to climb a ladder I never expected to come across in my life. I didn’t know that I had management skills, nothing in my education had revealed that. (I wish degree holders who deride shelf filling would realise that with hard work and the right attitude, they won’t stay as shelf fillers.)

I panicked. I was thirty-five and thought an career would be over if I didn’t race up the career ladder as quickly as possible. I climbed up, fell off and had to start on the bottom rung again. A truly horrible experience.

I moved up the ladder again, but this time more slowly. I loved it and again, thought that I would be retiring at sixty, after a fulfilling life in retailing.

At 42, my marriage ended. My work kept my head above water and a roof over my head.

At 44, I moved 250 miles away and remarried. There was no Waitrose or John Lewis in the area and I had to resign. Now what? More retailing? No. As I was in unfamiliar territory, I offered my services as a nursery nurse to an agency and took short-term work in a variety of locations, which meant I learnt about my surroundings. One day, I was asked to help a mother with post-natal depression, look after her baby on a psychiatric unit. Three days later, the ward manager asked if I would stay on as a nursing assistant.

I agreed, resigned from the agency and plunged myself into the world of the emotionally and mentally unwell.  I enjoyed the work, loved being back in a hospital environment and again, thought that I had reached the pinnacle of my working life and would retire at sixty. Around the same time I had also answered an advertisement in the local paper and after a thorough selection procedure, became a chocolate taster for Nestle. I job I still hold today, 18 years later.

While enjoying the work on the unit, I became increasingly concerned about patents seemingly getting worse, returning frequently and the reliance on strong medication. I thought it was due to a lack of education, so I trained in a psychological approach and gained a diploma. After a year, the conflict of interest became too strong and I left to open up my own practice.

 At 51 I was running my own psychotherapeutic practice, which I did for ten years. There were parents to care for in different parts of the country and by this time grandchildren. Not nearby, as I had imagined thirty years before, but spread around the UK.

In 2009 I stood for an hour on the 4th plinth in Trafalgar Square as part of the Antony Gormley One and Other Art Installation. I made some new friends through the Twitter connection with the event and am planning a mini-break with them this year.

In 2012 I was a Games Maker at Eton Dorney for the Olympics and Paralympics. An extraordinary, if not surreal, experience like no other I have had or will have again.

In October 2013, at the age of 64, I published my first book, which is gaining great reviews and interest. As a result, a local paper have asked me to write a monthly column. 

My parents died at 92 years old. I may still have another third of my life still to live. So I’m attempting to look after my health through diet and exercise, though not always successfully.
My friends are running charities arising from life events, caring for partners with chronic ill health problems, elderly relatives, grandchildren or sometimes all three. Some are still working past retirement age due to financial problems and some because they enjoy their work. Many, too many, of my friends have already died.

What am I trying to say? Nothing that improves the quote, “Life is what happens while you are busy making other plans.”

Catherine, keep a copy of your letter and look at it again every five years. You will realise that you could not have forecast your future. Your friends with careers? Look at their lives too and realise that life hasn’t quite turned out as they planned either. 

©AlisonRussell2014