Mimi - The Mother

Where do I start on the subject of my mother?

I tolerate her but deep down she drives me mad. Really mad. I'm sure my life would be better if she wasn't in it but a part of me worries that if she wasn't around, I wouldn't be able to function. How unhealthy is that? She has possessed me from the moment I was born.

Such a difficult woman - I don't know how my father lived with her for all those years but I know he loved her passionately and he never let me stay angry with her when she upset me. He loved me more but for all her temper, he never fell out of love with her.

He was ten years older than her and he met her when she was just seventeen and fell in love with her at once. He often told me about that party and how his heart started racing when she walked in with her friends. He said she looked older than her years in her white high-heeled boots and the little shift dress and her beehive hair and heavily-kohled eyes. He was completely smitten and she was flattered by the attention of this older and in her eyes, sophisticated man.

They married two years later and throughout their life together she behaved like a spoilt child who he indulged. Everything had to go her way and in their arguments, she wouldn't relent until he gave way. Oh, how I wished he would stand his ground with her but he never did....because he loved her and didn't want her to be unhappy. And she knew that and took full advantage of it.

When I came along, she was just twenty but she was obsessed with me. She didn't sleep or eat but just watched me constantly at the cost of her own health. She went down to just six stone in weight and then the doctor told my dad that she needed to put me in a nursery and get a job otherwise she would go mad. So she found a childminder and started working as a secretary at the local driving school. It was ridiculous because most of the pittance she earned went on childcare and the rest of it was her pocket money that she spent mainly on beautiful little dresses for me. I was like her doll.

One day when I was seven, she came to collect me after work and I cried because I wasn't ready to go home. She shouted at me all the way back to the house for that and when we got in through the door, she hit me. I still remember the physical and emotional pain of that strike and I never forgave her for it. She got another job soon after that and arranged for a neighbour to look after me for an hour after school finished, instead of the childminder.

I had to live up to her expectations - high grades, good behaviour, clean appearance. I learnt that if I did what she wanted, life was OK. If I didn't, I always felt she would withdraw her love. Even now, I still have that fear although part of me wishes she would, so that we could live apart from each other.

She came to live with us after my father died. She talks of him with great affection, about the wonderful times she had with him, about how much she misses his love. One of these days, I will lose it and scream at her that she made his life hell and that she didn't deserve him.....or maybe I won't, as I haven't all these years.

As the years go by, she is becoming almost impossible to live with as everything has to be done her way. She thinks she has the right to say what she wants, when she wants, to who she wants. It's as if she prizes that devil in her. It amuses her to let it slowly take over as she gets older. She thinks she has the right to goad and manipulate those around her and now at this stage in my life, I am finding it quite draining.

I blame her for the way I am. I know it's because of her that I cannot feel, though I can't explain how. I just know that it is because of her that I don't have any deep connection to anything, in a real way. I think I just go through life pretending to emotions that don't exist.

What on earth does that make me and would it suddenly change if she wasn't around?

Sasha and Kyle - The Children

I've already said I'm incredibly proud of them but I wonder.... I really wonder if I have been a good enough mother to them.

I am incredibly strict and expect them to behave in a certain way which they have done. Maybe I have inhibited them as a result. They seem fairly normal but who knows what they really go through.

Sometimes Sasha's eyes look very puffy and I don't know anything about why and I can tell she's not inclined to share the burdens in her life but we have the same sense of humour and many times when we talk we end up laughing and laughing until we cry. She is so sensible and I hope we end up as good friends as she is so wise and it will be her telling me what to do for the best very soon.

As for my son, I love him so much. He will always be my child though. I can't imagine him advising me on anything although he is incredibly intelligent and so I guess he will but I can't see a day when I won't be looking out for him.

How did I create such gorgeous children and why do I hold back from loving them completely? That is what makes me abnormal. That makes me a freak. A mother is supposed to love her children totally, beyond life itself. And yet, I don't know if I do. I can't imagine a world without them and I have such strong emotions for them but I think something isn't there.

I shout a lot at them - sometimes it's for no real reason. I think I yell because deep down, my life feels like it's in a mess and I have no control.

I hate myself I think - that's the real problem. If that's the case, how can I love anyone else...or expect them to love me

Selina - Who Is She?

Forty four years on this planet and what have I achieved?

Well I have two gorgeous teenagers - my daughter Sasha who is sixteen and beautiful, and my son Kyle who is fifteen and a heart-breaker. They're good kids and I'm proud of them. She goes to a drama school and is a fantastically talented actress and musician and he is very academic and goes to a grammar school in the next town were he beat thousands to a place there. I am in awe of both of them and their talents but I'm a pretty strict mum and can't abide bad behaviour. I do lavish praise on them though - I do.

I work in PR - always have done. Been with the same company forever and worked my way up to a pretty good position there. It sounds like a glamorous life as I organise big events, news conferences, film premieres and celebrity publicity. The job involves a lot of travel and shmoozing and I'm good at it but I have to admit that as much fun as that sounds, I'm bored of it. I don't know what else to do though so I just carry on in the hope that something better will come along ...but I guess it won't if I don't look for it!

I've been in love just once in my life and not with my lovely husband Ewan. I do adore him though and would be very alone without him in my life. We've been married for nearly twenty years and he's very easy-going and puts up with me. We have our ups and downs but he is basically a good man, which is all any woman can ask for.

It was the relationship I had before I met him that nearly finished me off. The one where I fell totally head over heels in love. I spent two years with Lee and when that ended suddenly, I really thought there was no point in carrying on. The rejection was so painful and even now, I would rather cut off my right arm slowly then watch my daughter go through that inevitable heartache. It happens to us all though and maybe it's an important part of our journey through life, who knows.

I've watched friends go through the same thing and have marvelled at how they have picked themselves up and then allow themselves to fall the next time. I didn't do that. I vowed that no one would make me feel so unhappy again - that I would never allow myself to let a man make me lose control, ever. And with Ewan, I haven't. I love sharing my life with him but if he were to walk out tomorrow, I would be able to carry on. Sure it wouldn't be easy but I wouldn't be broken like I was all those years ago. Mind you, I have come close to feeling like that because although I have been a good wife, I haven't been a faithful one ....but more of that another time, maybe.

What else? Oh who knows? My time is spent working and looking after the family, including my mother Mimi who came to live with us after my dearest, darling dad died ten years ago. I still miss him desperately - the only person I ever really spoke to and even when I kept quiet, he understood. No brothers and sisters so Mum came to live with us. We get on fine but only because I don't allow myself to get riled by her very extreme views on life and because I gave over the running of my house to her and because I allow her to shout at me for no other reason than it seems to give meaning to her life.

I don't do much else, except singing! That's my passion. I would have pursued it as a career. either as a performer or a teacher, but my mother frowned upon the idea. That's why I was so keen to encourage and support my daughter when she started to display her clear talents. For me now, it's just something I do in what spare time I have. But if I'm honest, it's the only time I ever really feel alive.