Grandad

My mother prevented me from knowing my father. At least that is what I think. I will never know the truth because she has passed. I did not know my father. I met him for the first time a year after my mother past away when I was 49. The closest I had to a…

Lisa’s Face

On a Friday and Saturday night when my mother came home from the Maplin Club, she was often drunk and always smelt of alcohol and cigarettes. I would be in bed, hiding. I would pull the covers up over my head to hide my face. I didn’t want her to touch me. I was angry with…

My mother’s silent messages silenced me.

My mother was able to pass me silent messages just by a look or a tiny gesture. Looking back now, I can see my mother was hiding and she was afraid I would reveal her secrets and shame. Somehow she managed to transfer her feelings onto me until they became mine. My mother never allowed…

Hiding, secrets and lies

Hiding, secrets and lies – ways of being or qualities that I leant from my mother. To survive my childhood I had to hide, keep secrets and lie. Sadly, I took these characteristics with me into adulthood. They became friends that I could rely on. From writing this piece, I can observe how lonely Lisa…

Arm in Arm

All my life, I craved physical touch from my mother who was unable to give or receive comfort. When we walked arm in arm, which we often did in her later years when she was struggling, I relished the contact, but felt the weight and burden of her. In this piece of writing, I have…

Feeling apprehensive!

Hello Everyone, I’m Lyndy and this is my very first blog post. I’m feeling apprehensive because speaking out publicly and having a voice is so alien to me. This is as a direct consequence of my childhood and how I was brought up. I was ‘silenced’ and ‘squashed’ by my mother and had to carry…