This weekend, I will mostly be celebrating my 30th birthday, which falls on Sunday. I didn't think it would be a big thing for me, but actually, I suppose it is.
When I was 4 they told me that it was time to stop playing and start learning. Education was never meant to be enjoyable. They were wrong.
When I was 11 they told me the more friends I had at my party, the better. Even if I didn't really like them, or they me. They were wrong.
When I was 12 they told me that I'd be more popular if I wasn't so bright. No-one likes geeks. They were wrong.
When I was 14 they told me that until I looked perfect, I wasn't worthy of a boyfriend. Unless I was willing to put out. They were wrong.
When I was 15 they told me that I thought too much, and it was making me depressed. Prozac was probably the answer. They were wrong.
When I was 17 they told me not to argue back, because they were older and wiser. People in authority always know best. They were wrong.
When I was 18 they told me I had to go to university; it was just what people like me did. University was always fun, and without a degree, I'd be a failure. They were wrong.
When I was 19 they told me that the world was ordered, but that I was disordered. What I needed was lithium to make me fit better. They were wrong.
When I was 21 they told me that in order to be successful in business, women had to work twice as hard to be half as good. If I didn't lose my maternal instincts, I'd never fulfil my professional ambitions. They were wrong.
When I was 22 they told me that I would be a valued asset to a local authority that was committed to making our county a better place to live, work, visit and invest. It wasn't just corporate fluff. They were wrong.
When I was 24 they told me I'd regret it forever if I ended the relationship with the person who laughed at me for reading the newspapers and loving books. Safe and secure is boring, but boring is necessary. They were wrong.
When I was 25 they told me that this job would be a real opportunity to help vulnerable people live independent lives. There were no hidden agendas or secret politics. They were wrong.
When I was 26 they told me that I was being investigated for serious professional misconduct after I blew the whistle. They thought I'd give in and back down on their terms. They were wrong.
When I was 27 they told me that the best way to run Children's Services was by talking about EFQM, the Balanced Scorecard, the Six Sigma approach and PRINCE2 methodologies very loudly over pastries. With lots of intricate hand waving. They were wrong.
When I was 27 they told me it was stupid to walk out of a secure, well-paid job and final salary pension in order to rely on myself to make a living. I was bound to fail - or at least regret my decision. They were wrong.
When I was 28 they told me that, despite all evidence to the contrary, having my baby at home after a low-risk pregnancy was a risky thing to do. The nightmare hospital birth and unnecessary interventions I ended up with were an infinitely better option. They were wrong.
When I was 29 they told me that our daughter existed for the pleasure of others, to be held like china and kissed and fussed with and displayed and passed and photographed and paraded. Because that's what everyone does with babies, who don't think, feel or communicate. They were wrong.
When I was 29 they told me that it was unnatural to breastfeed my baby after precisely 6 months of age, or sleep with her next to me, or carry her when she needed to be held, because the books say that's how children are spoiled, if not killed. They were wrong.
When I was 29 they told me that I wasn't fit to decide how best to parent and educate my child, and that unconventional approaches were at best suspect, at worst abusive. Despite the carnage resulting from mainstream, one-size-fits-all, "expert"-led initiatives. THEY WERE WRONG.
Now I am 30, the lessons of those 26 years are well and truly behind me.
First and foremost, I trust myself, my judgement and my instincts. I have confidence in those values that have been there inside for as long as I can remember, no matter how deeply buried at times.
