When I walked into the school playground for the first time, my heart was thudding. It was my five-year-old son’s first day with a new class of children and naturally I hoped the others would accept him, and not leave him out. But, privately, I was also concerned for myself. Would the other parents like me? I was going to be coming and going from this playground for the next six years – would I fit in?
My pumping heart, of course, had catapulted me straight back to my own childhood. For most of my schooldays, I was averagely popular; not one of the ‘cool’ clique of pretty, sophisticated girls, but I had friends. Then at 16, I moved to a new school, where a few kind people took pity on me, but despite my best e. orts, I was generally shunned as uncool. It was a miserable experience.