As a six to eight year old I suffered some quite traumatic nightmares. My Mum would fetch me out of bed and take me downstairs and sit with me on the sofa, whilst all the time the nightmare would continue. Even though I was no longer actually sleeping I'd have spells of sheer terror, calling out and pointing ahead of me "They're coming now! They're right there!!" My Mum just sat with me, holding me, doing nothing other than comforting me and being with me.

I learned later that my Dad's view of these episodes was that I should have been put back to bed and left to get on with it. The dreams would pass anyways.

I don't know what might have become of me if my Mum had agreed with him or not stood her ground in refusing to do that, but I sense that these nightmare episodes may have had a greater impact on me. Looking back at them now they are a time of comfort, feeling my Mum loving me and being there with me, and I guess my Dad's alternative would mean I'd look back on them as times of abandonment.

My Mum seemed to instinctively know she needed to do nothing with my fears, with my nightmares, just be with me and love me, and they would pass.

Something I've since learned to do for others and for myself.