Confessions of an ashamed blogger

Off-hand, I think there are three things that I'm most ashamed about but the thing that has contributed to the other two and any others that I can't think of at this time of the morning lies in the back of my head, non-stop.

I'm ashamed of my parents.

I understand that it's so easy to point fingers at another person and say that had it not been for them I wouldn't have done this, or that, or even that, but for a lot of things that I have or haven't done in my life stems back to my childhood and upbringing.

Although my parents never hit me they showered my brothers and I with material love, sent us away at an age under ten to boarding school - me to an all girls' school and my brothers all went to the same school, dividing the family almost purposefully. I always felt like the outsider visiting friends when holidays came around, my parents bullied me for better marks at school, bullied me into further education, criticised the way I brought up my children, sent threatening letters to me whilst my second marriage was falling apart and testified against me in court during the divorce.

Whilst I am very proud of my parents' own achievements, I am ashamed that we are even related.

And that's all, really, because I've cut all ties with them and am getting on with life. This is only the fourth year that I've not seen them, but it has really helped. I was stupid not to have done this years ago.

My bad, my shame.