to be talking about seven-year-old me.“A bit nervous but absolutely fine,” I replied, wanting to get back onto the topic of my dating life.
I was 31 at the time and far more worried about the way I would suddenly lose interest in the women I was going out with—a habit not exactly conducive to falling in love.
Now, with nearly eight years of therapy behind me, I understand that being brought up by an institution taught me to be frightened of closeness and, worse, ashamed of my feelings.
The only way I could learn to have a normal relationship was by unpicking those early school days. Like most boys from my background, the topic of my education was never in question.
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