My parents: Michael and Beryl, the vicar and the school teacher.

My father was a caring, intelligent and creative man with a 'wicked' sense of humour, but he was obsessive; I loved and feared him in equal measures. He knew so much and taught me to love nature and photography, but he was also the harsh disciplinarian who introduced me to the concept of sin and showed me what fear meant. He did not choose his own path in life: at the age of seven he lost his father to Spanish flu and was sent to a strict ecclesiastical boarding school, where he was primed for the priesthood. It was a life of order and rigid routines, so he never learnt the art of spontaneity. He made list after list and believed that we should all strive for perfection, even though only God could be perfect. He was 36 when he married my mother and relinquished his annual vow of celibacy. My dad died when I was in my mid-teens and the emptiness has never left me; the night before he was taken ill we sat together scanning the night sky for a particular comet and I will always treasure that memory. I wish I had really known him, and I wish he'd had the opportunity to know himself.

My mother was kind and modest to a fault; she never wanted to be any trouble and never learnt to say 'no'. She lived in my father's shadow during their marriage, and when he (physically) punished me (usually for not eating my greens!), she would say "Michael, please don't" as quietly as a mouse. She was highly intelligent, and at the age of 11 she came top in Hertfordshire in the equivalent of the 11 plus. I didn't learn to stand on my own two feet until she died; I was always the child. She was my first teacher at school and I hid behind her on my first day. We were at the same schools together until I was 11, and so I didn't learn to be left because she never left me. She adored my children and they adored her. I loved her roast dinners and the family get togethers. I wish she could have been there when I walked up the aisle of St. Albans Cathedral during my graduation ceremony.

I have all the love letters that they wrote to each other.

Grandparents, uncles and aunts et al.

My paternal grandfather died in 1918, forty years before I was born and my maternal grandfather in the early 1940s, so I didn't know either of them. My paternal grandmother (bottom, middle) died when I was one, but 'little granny' as she was known (top, right), was there throughout my childhood. She was a Yorkshire lass from Northallerton. She wasn't a warm. cuddly grandmother, but she was a real character and I wish I'd listened to all the stories of her life.

My mother didn't have any siblings, but on my father's side I was the youngest child of the youngest child; the fact that he was already 46 by the time that I was born meant that my cousins were all much older than me (twenty or thirty plus years). My uncles were clergymen, apart from one who emigrated to Australia, and all that side of the family were very tall and some, a little scary!

My maiden name was Meakin, and we are descended from a well-to-do family of Staffordshire potters, although my grandfather was a vicar and legend has it that he went on the Grand Tour and gave his money away to charity before settling down in his vicarage! He had an MA in theology from Cambridge, so I think there must have brains in the family once!

Baby Rachel

I was born a red head, but blonde curly locks soon appeared; I think I must have been quite cute! My first memory is of being in my cot; I can still picture the yellow wallpaper. I had a bird-shaped hot water bottle called hot pink chick (!), and I remember jumping up and down in my cot and accidentally bursting it! I can also recall one of my mother's brooches, which I played with during the church services when she held me in her arms.

My godmother: Phyl

I loved Phyl, dearly; she was the kindest person who ever lived, and she saw the good in everyone. Sadly she couldn't have children of her own, but she loved me as if I were her own child. For the first twenty or so years of my life, I called her 'Johnson'; I'm not sure why, but she didn't mind. She once bought me a cuddly toy dog and I called it 'Johnson WowWow' (rhyming with low low). I don't think British Standards existed then, because one day a large piece of metal emerged from my dog; it was part of the frame. When I stayed at her house she would come in and kiss me goodnight, minus her teeth. She drank Camp coffee from a bone china cup and she would always have Tizer in the pantry for the children.

Woburn Sands

I was born in a large Georgian vicarage in Woburn Sands; the sort of house in which children's stories from days gone by are set, with its own secret garden. I loved the garden; it seemed endless, with lots of places in which I could hide. At the bottom, a small copse could be found, and that is where I started my bird watching when I was seven years old and joined the Young Ornithologists Club. I was something of a tom boy and loved climbing trees and making camps. One of the walled gardens housed a shed for the three goats we owned, and a large gargoyle brought water down into its terraced pond.

The house itself was a bit scary, with long passages and a cellar floor, which was home to some very large black beetles. I would often wake in the night and climb into my parents' bed, which felt warm and safe. They got me a goldfish tank with a light in it, but it didn't help because the reflections of giant goldfish would swim round the room. My brother slept in what was once the servants' quarters, and he had the spookiest room of all!

My father was amazing at organising village events, and out of the pulpit he became a different person! The whole village would take part and events would either take part in Woburn Sands Woods or in the large vicarage garden. There were Victorian tea parties and treasure hunts in the woods, and each time he organised one his printing press and photographic enlarger were busy. My mother played an equally important role, combining her major role in village event management with teaching, motherhood, 5.a.m. goat milking, girl guiding, housework and much more.They even ran an archery club in our back garden.

My siblings

I have three siblings - Mary, Iona and Stephen. We used to be close, and I hope we will be again, but events have torn some of us apart. I'm ten years younger than Mary, and eight years younger than Iona. By the time I was about seven they had both left home. Iona gave me her Faerie Glen dolls when she left, and I would spend hours playing with them. In my most vivid childhood memories of Mary, I can see the hippy walking barefoot with back combed hair; I think the hippy is still there! Stephen and I used to fight a lot, but that doesn't mean to say that he didn't look out for me. I used to own 'pink teddy' and he had 'brown teddy' (in fact he's still got him!). Our children have always been close, which I treasure.

Ridgmont County Primary School

When I was four I started Ridgmont County Primary School in Bedfordshire. Most of all, I enjoyed the nature walks to the local derelict church; I still go on them, and my desk at work can resemble a nature table! The headmaster's name was Mr Briggs, and he would always wink at me whenever he walked past; I liked him, but I'm not sure if the boys who got the cane did! Other children would frequently pose the question "if Mrs Meakin's your mum does that mean that Mr Briggs is your dad"! Mr Briggs kept bees in hives outside our classroom, and showed us how to pick them up and gently put them outside if they came inside. I don't remember anybody getting stung and we all grew to love the bees.

We had a small outdoor pool at school, and so I learnt to swim when I was young. Our family also visited what I thought was 'Newport Paddling Pool' (Newport Pagnell) during the summer months; I still love outdoor pools, although I don't get to swim in them very often. I was even dressed as a mermaid for a fancy dress competition at one of the school's fetes and won first prize (even though I cried all the way round a playground circuit); perhaps that's why I won! The playground seemed vast, although I'm sure it wasn't, and I loved playground games with rhymes, french skipping and juggling balls against the wall. I always came last in sports days, but I won a prize from Bourneville for writing about cocoa beans! I had good friends at Ridgmont, although there was one girl who would secretly pinch me in class until it hurt. Her name was Rosie, and she was tiny with a 'butter wouldn't melt in her mouth' face.

I got confused during the time my mother taught me, and my family still laugh at the stories. We owned a Ford Anglia estate and I would often be car sick on the way to school. On one such day (before we arrived at school) my mother told me that I should stay in at playtime; when playtime arrived I duly went up to her and said, 'please Miss, I was sick on the way to school, and my mummy says that I should stay in at playtime'. I don't believe that children should ever be taught in school by their parents! She made a point of not being seen to favour me, but she was in a difficult situation.

We had our first day at Ridgmont together, with the teachers sitting at the top table on a slight platform for lunch. When I had finished I got up and walked over to my mother with the announcement: "I have finished, so please may I get up now.". "Go and sit down", she replied quickly, and the others laughed!. I would always say 'may' and not 'can', because a 'please can I go to the toilet?' would always be answered with a 'you may, but whether or not you can is a different matter'! We were encouraged to write with ink pens at a time when the desks still had inkwells built into them. I clearly remember hiding behind her skirt on that first day, and the "oh, isn't she sweet" comment, from an older pupil.

I was very shy, but I remember reciting a poem in front of the whole school and their families when I was about five or six: 'our Christmas pudding was made in November, all they put in it I quite well remember...'. At the back of the Hall stood my brother, pulling faces and trying to put me off! I was sad when we left Ridgmont - I only had a year and a term to go before secondary school - and I often wonder how different my life would have been had we stayed. On my last day, I was given the biggest Easter egg I had ever seen, by the school, and the children compiled a book about their memories of my mother; she was a very popular teacher, loved by all those she taught (including me, of course).

The lost years

I have very little to remind me of my childhood years from 10 until I left school, apart from that which is in my head; I call them my lost years. I seemed to struggle even more with life from the day we left Woburn Sands in March 1968. Our vicarage home was very isolated, although situated in a large town, and I had lost the security of village life. The first time I ventured home alone I was followed and chased through fields and woodland by an unsavoury man who tried to grab me; I was terrified after that, but still had to walk the same route for five years.

I secured a place at grammar school, but a year later they were scrapped in Hertfordshire and my life was dominated by the bullies who saw the shy vicar's daughter as an easy target. I try to think of good times, but it doesn't mean they didn't happen just because I can't recall them. I believe that I was clever, but I missed classes because it was always me, not the bullies, who was removed. My mother wrote to my teacher when my dad died; I remember seeing my teacher cry, but she didn't say anything to me, or her colleagues. Days later when asked why I hadn't done my homework, I told my science teacher that I'd forgotten and took the punishment because I couldn't say 'my dad has died'.

In January 1974 my father had a stroke (I can still remember his terrified face looking up at me from the kitchen floor), in February he died, in March we moved from a five-bedroomed house to a damp two-bedroomed cottage, and in May I started my exams. I got the five O'levels and Grade 1 CSEs that I needed to get into the sixth form, including English and Maths, but I didn't excel. By 17 I was on medication for depression. I didn't have a large circle of friends, but I learnt the meaning of 'true friendship'.

This sounds like one of those depressing autobiographical accounts that you read, depicting childhood experiences, but this is just how it was. My parents loved me, but I did not feel protected, and I still find myself seeking that warmth. On reflection, I must have stood out like a sore thumb during much of my secondary school life! I had a brown briefcase on my first day, whereas others carried trendy bags; I'd never travelled by bus on my own and I was convinced that I could become pregnant if a man brushed past me too closely! My father would arrive for parents' evenings (often after evensong) clad in a black cassock and a long black cloak. At 15 I was given the job of being the Saturday verger for weddings and the occasional funerals, whereas my friends were working in shops and hairdressers. I was shy and too afraid to utter the responses during the services until a lecture from my father led to a very loud "Amen" during a wedding, resulting in the turned heads of several congregation members!

Such strange, surreal times, but they led me to make sure that my children were never bullied and that they believe in themselves. There's no point in regretting the past, just learn from it.

David

Everybody loves David (including me of course!); we met in the late 1970s and were married in 1981, which seems an awful long time ago! It's amazing how much you do change over the years; it feels as if we are different people now. David is one of six children, and he comes from a lovely family, which is also my family.

He is ICT Manager at a school for children with severe learning difficulties, and he is also Chair of Governers at a local primary school. The children respond very well to his laid back nature, although being married to someone who is so laid back that they are practically horizontal can be challenging at times! Being made redundant from industry in 2002 enabled him to pursue an Open University degree, and seeing him being awarded First Class Honours at the Barbican was a very proud moment for me and his parents. I'm so glad that they could be there. He's still resting from the experience!

We don't share many of the same interests, and at times we can have a 'conversation' remaining completely oblivious of what the other one is saying! I do have a tendency to switch off when golf becomes the topic (which it regularly does!), and he does the same when I talk about my hobbies. I think the fact that we regularly wander off in different directions helps to make our marriage strong. For me waving David off as he heads to the golf course means that I can pursue my interests, and I would never resent his bids for some freedom!

It's not easy living with someone during the more severe periods of mental illness, particularly when reassurances are being sought so often, but David has always been there. It took him a long time to learn the best ways of helping me, but it's not something that any of us are equipped to deal with. I hope I have been a good wife to him; I certainly don't nag as much as some women do (partly because it would be a futile exercise!), and I gave him the two most beautiful girls in the whole world.

My girls

My girls are beautiful and I love with all my heart. I am so proud of them both. They tell it like it is, and don't pander to any of my insecurities, particularly when I worry that I've been a bad mother!

When they were little they would spend hours living in an amazing imaginary world with their Barbie dolls and other toys; I would quite like to have lived there. They are full of creativity, talent and imagination, and I think they've yet to really explore the extent of it.

I believe that children should receive guidance, but that they should be allowed to follow their own consciences and decide on their philosophies on life. In this respect they are both stronger than me, and they don't spend ages worrying about what people think of them like I do! The thing I want most in life is for them to be happy and fulfilled.

Working Life

I started work at John Dickinson & Co. when I was eighteen; it was a time when the managers were all men and sexual harassment was still rife, particularly in the Civil Service, which I joined a year later!

One of my favourite jobs was working as a Market Research Analyst in Kodak House when I was 23. It was a state of the art building, and I was able to use the Camera Club's darkrooms, learning the art of colour printing, which was not easy at the time! Kodak was at its peak and David and I both worked in the tall building, which is now a block of flats.

I have had seven employers during my life, and the longest service (thirteen years) has been at West Herts College, where I worked in the Library. I got a lot of support from the people with whom I worked when I was ill; they were a good crowd. I left the College to take up the position of Library Manager at my old school, where I learnt more about bullies and laid a few ghosts to rest.

I've been at Ashridge Business School, working as an Information Specialist, since 2001; I can't imagine working anywhere else, unless I'm offered a job as a wildlife photographer. It's had it's ups and down, and there have been personality clashes, but it's a very good place to work, and I never tire of the beautiful surroundings.

Philosophy on life

When asked the question "Looking at the marvellous design of the Universe, do you believe it all came about through evolution, God or something else?", Patrick Moore replied "I don't know I wasn't there!".

I struggled with guilt and religion for so many years, but now I just focus on what I know I believe: that we should all look after our world, and respect each other, our environment and all the creatures with whom we share it. If we ram beliefs down the throats of our children with a rod of fear, how can they learn to listen to their hearts?

Mental health

This area of my life is well-documented, from OCD to ECT and beyond, so all I will say is that I hope that the world will learn not to judge, and begin to show more compassion to the people who do not choose to be consumed by depression and other mental health disorders. I fully believe in the concept of 'action before motivation', and use my creativity to help me. I want to do my part in helping others to understand.

My graduation

I finally graduated in 1999; it was a life time's ambition and I was awarded a BA (hons) in Art & Design (Media Arts), specialising in photography. I was a slow starter, and sadly my mother died half way through my course, but I achieved a respectable Second Class Honours, with a First for my dissertation. On graduation day I walked down the long aisle of St. Albans Cathedral to receive my award and the University Prize for the 'best overall performance at degree assessment'. I peaked in my last year!

I was offered a place to study for an M.A. in Photography at the University of Westminster a few years ago, but went to the Priory instead! I've finished my formal education now, because I realised that a Masters was just another way of trying to prove my worth, whereas the B.A. was a real ambition.

Charities

In the last few years I have raised over £8K for different charities through my art, and I no longer think 'I wish I could do something', because we all can!

Photography

I took my first photograph somewhere between the ages of ten and twelve; it was of a calf and was taken with a 126 camera. After I had exposed my first film (black & white), I developed and printed it in my father's makeshift darkroom using his 'Heath Robinson' enlarger, which was built from old tin cans and lenses. He told me that I should have more people in my photographs, but I told him that 'I didn't like people'! I still don't have many people in my pictures, so I don't know what that says about me!

I soon graduated to a Zenith B: a very bulky Russian 35mm SLR. I didn't have a light meter, so I learnt everything I needed to know about speed and aperture, judging the amount of light myself. The darkroom was a magical place for me, and the aroma of chemicals (disliked by others!) was one of my favourite childhood smells!

In recent years I have been successful in a number of national and international competitions; my ambition is to win one of the big ones!

The enlarger in the photograph is surrounded by the output from my father's printing press.

Drawing & jewellery making

I used to love drawing as a child, but as an adult I was convinced that I couldn't draw, until I met the coloured pencil artist, Jonathan Newey. I love my coloured pencils now and I hope to go from strength to strength.

I also love making jewellery, using precious metal clay, polymer clay and beads.

Pets

Apart from a short period after we got married, I have always been surrounded by animals. The first pets I remember well were Vicky and Sally (Strathelie Starlet and Woburn Glen Moonbeam were their pedigree names!). Sally was one of Vicky's puppies (I'm not sure which one of this wastepaper basket full of puppies she is!).

There have been lots of goats, dogs, cats, rabbits, guinea pigs and hamsters, but my softest spot will probably always be for Shandy: the rescue dog which helped me through my teens. Like me, Shandy, a labrador cross, was very shy and frightened of lots of people! We had rescued her at the age of about six months. Shandy would sleep at the end of my bed (and occasionally snore!), but would be ejected from the room when I got dressed. Even dogs weren't allowed to see me naked, and neither was God as I would sit in the bath with my knees clutched to my chest!

We currently have two cats: Todd and Ollie. I can't imagine a home without pets, although I can imagine without pet hair!

The natural world

I've always loved the countryside and its flora and fauna; I like being outdoors best of all. I have learnt so much through my photography, but I still have lots to discover. When I draw I find out more about my subjects as I look at the detail, colours and textures.

I used to be afraid of spiders, but now I find them fascinating! Frogs and butterflies seem to have absorbed a lot of my time lately. Their life cycles fascinate me. Working at Ashridge provides me with new landscapes every day, and my friends at Butterfly World Project have enabled me to discover so much about these amazing creatures.

Two of my ambitions are to see Aurora Borealis and photograph snowflakes. I would also love to be able to take more bird photographs, but I haven't got the right lens (yet).

'The Professor'

I met him in 1989; I am very glad that I did, and that there are special people out there who make such a positive difference to the world.

I am grateful to him for believing in me, and asking me to contribute to a self help book on OCD, which will be published by Sheldon Press this year.

Others in my life.

The fact that I have not mentioned the other people who are, and have been, in my life, doesn't mean that they are not important to me. Over the years I have been grateful to have met so many special people, be they friends or family. They are too numerous to mention, but each one of them has a special place in my heart!