My happy place

When I was five years old we moved to a house opposite a children's home. There were so many children of different ages who came from a wide variety of backgrounds. In the seventies, children went to live in children's homes if they were disabled, their parents had divorced or had died, or they were 'unmanageable' and their parents could not cope with them.

To me, it was the happiest place in the world. The carers always seemed to have smiles on their faces and the children responded with love. It helped too that they had a huge garden with swings, see-saws and climbing frames. There was always so much to do there. I loved it. I would rush home from school and change into my home clothes so I could go and play there. I never wanted to go home. I asked my Mum if I could sleep over there sometimes but she always declined.

When I was asked what I would like to do for my eighth birthday, I asked to have my party at the children's home. I did, and it was the most joyous birthday I can remember. I still have photos to prove it. I had a huge smile on my face and everyone around also looks genuinely happy. In hindsight, I am curious if anyone ever wondered why a child from a so-called happy home with both parents would wish to spend as much time as she could in a children's home.

The reason was I felt safe there. I never saw the carers get angry or hit any of the children. They were all treated with love and fairness. And that is all I wanted. Sometimes I thought if my parents split up maybe I would go and live there and be happy but then I would realise that I would miss my Mum so much so I would rather just go and play there when I could. When we left to move to another part of the country I was distraught as I was leaving my happy place and my loving family behind.

I have always been highly attuned to children and I wonder if the children's home helped with that. Looking back on it, the children had so many different issues and yet they accepted me and I accepted them and we all had so much fun together. That was something I yearned for as home life was terrifying for me.

This connection with children brought me to my career path of teaching and then play therapy. One of my therapists exclaimed that play therapy found me. It was my destiny. I think working with children was always going to happen, no matter what the job.

'I see the child I knew in the man before me' (Sheriff of Nottingham, Robin Hood Prince of thieves, 1991). A quote that has stuck in my brain since the first time I heard it. I can relate it to my dad, a person who I mostly despise but at times for whom I also have empathy.

Now obviously, I did not know my dad during his childhood. But I wonder what it was like for him. He has told me that his parents and grandparents lived in the Victorian era when life was very different for children. I think he means it was harsh with corporal punishment and children being seen and not heard. How was he treated? In turn, how were his parents treated and did they deal with their children the same way? It was a different era.

I see the damage that was done to him and that he then continued the cycle by doing the same to me without a thought or awareness of what he was doing. I do not condone it. I am not giving him an excuse. He was an adult man and I was a child and what he did to me was reprehensible.

But I do see the child in the man before me. Just as I see the child in everyone I meet. I think that is a gift and I cherish it. It gives me an insight into why people behave as they do so I can empathise with them.