It has been quite a day. Paul Bernal shows true compassion here and deserves much respect for this heartfelt post.
I was 14 when Margaret Thatcher came to power in 1979: to say that she cast a shadow over my youth is to vastly underestimate her impact on my life then, and my life now. When I heard about her death I didn’t really know what to say or to think. Mostly I felt numb – and lots of memories came flooding back. Lots of feelings, lots of emotions. Not exactly anger, just a kind of empty sadness. It’s hard even to write about it now. It’s not sadness about me, or about her, but more about humanity in general – because what I learned as one of ‘Thatcher’s children’ more than anything else was that all too often, the ‘bad guys’ win.
I was a politically active teenager, full of hope and optimism – Thatcher’s victory in 1979, and then even more so her landslide in 1983 did their…
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