Joan Bakewell

17/03/2009

Broadcaster and racy raconteuse

If I knew then...
What would you say to your 16-year-old self if you could go back in time? We ask another well known celebrity to offer their younger self some words of wisdom.

I was a conventional gymslip school girl, in stockings and suspenders. At 16 I think I had just had my plaits cut off – they used to go down to my waist. So I had rather unruly fine hair that wouldn’t do the glamorous things I wanted and I was a bit chubby. I lacked confidence though on the surface I think I was quite assertive.

I had very happy early years. I remember my parents laughter very clearly. But when I got into my teens my mother began to suffer bouts of depression and that brought great conflict for me – this mother who’d been so joyous and full of laughter was suddenly not speaking to me. I thought it was my fault and I was constantly trying to placate her. It made me wary of people’s emotions, rather thoughtful about them. It was important that I had a rich interior life – I kept alot of things to myself because I didn’t want to risk being hurt.

My father I adored and he adored me – that might have been the read on for my mother’s depression, I was clearly the favourite daughter. He was a businessman who has risen up from the foundry floor to become managing director of a small engine firm. No one in my family had been to university and he backed me all the way to go and watched over my studies, made sure I did my homework.

I thought about the opposite sex all the time at 16. It was all very confusing because we weren’t told anything. We went to the movies and I was enraptured by the high romance of films of the 40s and 50s, that was very important. I was completely enthralled by the Brontes, who of course had a weird idea of sex, which they didn’t experience very much. Some day your prince will come is the most dangerous song ever sung in a movie because you can’t hang around waiting for Mr Perfect, he’s not there. At the time Mr Rochester would have been my prince, looking a bit like James Mason, he was very handsome with a wonderful voice.

I’d tell my young self that humanity is very varied. Just because there’s a bit of trouble in your own family there’s another world out there of people with entirely different temperaments and having a depressive mother doesn’t mean that anyone you ever love or who loves you will be the same. People have open minds and open hearts – that’s the good news.

You have to realistic about life and then you’ll find it easier to get on. Don’t have romantic illusions. I was part of a generation who taught its girls to be good wives, which involved waiting on their husbands all the day long, cooking, doing the shopping and laundry. I played that role in both of my marriages – it came naturally, it was part of the society from which I came in the 50s and 60s. Even when we were trying to be liberated in the 70s, we were trying to so everything, be a good wife and mother and do a job – it was quite tricky.  My advice now would be, make sure your boyfriend can cook.

I would tell my younger self to wait until her thirties to have children. I had my first daughter when I was 25, the second when I was 29.  It gives you a spell of adulthood in which you can grow in confidence so when you come to have children you have enough maturity not to be such a control freak. I was quite a controlling mother, trying to hold the fort all the time. If I’d had more of a career before the children were born I might have had more confidence. I wore out 2 copies of Dr Spock, I didn’t know what to do at all. I was very anxious and felt a huge burden of responsibility. I thought this life depends on me – but the good news is that children grow up anyway. I’d say now, don’t be an anxious mother, you can convey that to your child – relax and enjoy them more. I didn’t do that enough.

I had no career pattern – I seized the day. There are opportunities  around you all the time, you’ve got to recognise them and grab them. I wish I’d written a novel before now. I got so much pleasure from writing it, even though I think I could be better. My advice would be to do the things you’ve always wanted to do before it’s too late.

I’d also say to young Joan, don’t be afraid of getting old. Stay healthy and enjoy it – plan to live until you’re ninety and don’t regard everyone over 70 as a waste of time – they’re not. At 16, I’d I couldn’t have guessed my life was going to be so good. People in those days found life quite humdrum and all the expectations were that mine would be too. It’s been anything but.

Interview: Jane Graham