‘I grew up with a famous parent... I will need therapy for the rest of my life’

As the daughter of a household name TV presenter, Charlotte* grew up in the limelight, with her mother giving the press almost unfettered access to every aspect of her life. Now an adult herself, Charlotte believes her mother’s candid attitude in sharing their family’s most private moments has had a lasting negative impact. Here, she tells her side of the story – and heeds a warning to other parenting influencers about how their actions could have a lifelong effect on their children.

Charlotte says:. I don’t know what life is like not having a famous parent. Within hours of being born, I had cameras thrust into my face, featuring in glossy magazines and regularly being wheeled out to photoshoots. As I got older, this was something I was expected to become accustomed to, but I never did. In her heyday, my mum was a hugely popular celebrity figure, regularly featuring on big TV shows and writing in newspapers. When I was really little and watching TV at home when she was on, I would try and speak to her – not understanding why she wouldn’t respond.

So one day, she sat me down and explained to me that while some mummies work in offices, or others worked for the police, her job was being on the TV. Being famous was her livelihood. There were some aspects of my mum’s fame that were great: we got to live in an amazing house and I attended a good school. Mum was just so well-loved, that when she ever came to pick me up from nursery or school, everyone flocked to her, desperate to speak to her. But it was rare that she would pick me up – she worked constantly. Her busy schedule meant we could only have one holiday a year, and while they were usually in brilliant locations, it was often intense for us to suddenly spend so much time together.

Because her schedule was so full on, I was raised by a series of nannies throughout my childhood. They were often a substitute mother figure, looking after me five days a week – but I never gave myself the chance to get close to them because they fairly often left. Her career also meant my mum didn’t often have time for me. If I tried to speak to her about a problem, she’d often tell me she was too tired and it was dismissed. I felt rejected.

But that didn’t stop her speaking out about our family life in newspapers and on TV. It seemed everything was up for public consumption. Our school reports, arguments we had at home. Even that time we got stomach bugs was free for everyone to read about. It caused a weekly row in our house where I’d beg her to not discuss us so publicly, but nothing ever changed. For her, being so candid was a part of her fame – this was the trade-off for success.

There were more damaging side-effects to her job. Because she spoke so openly about any issues she was having, it resulted in people treating us warily, uncertain whether things they said would end up being broadcast. It meant we lost a lot of close family and friends when I was young. It took me years, in some cases, decades, to rebuild some of those relationships. As I hit my teenage years, I became more uncomfortable being in the public eye. It was so embarrassing having to do photoshoots with my mum even though Ifelt really self conscious about my changing teenage body and my stomach was in knots every time I had to do a red carpet. One year, I was meant to feature on a TV show with my mum. I was so nervous that I had to camp out in the toilets. Everyone thought I’d be just like my mum – really confident and at ease in front of the camera – but I wasn’t.

Mum’s fame also greatly infringed on my personal life. As she was so open, details about us were relatively easy to find. Gross sexual objects were posted to our house and sometimes, weird men would loiter around school, so we had to get the police involved. It left me feeling that I couldn’t trust anyone. Lots of people wanted to be my friends but so few were genuine – people wanted to come to my house to take pictures and brag they’d been there. Some instances of me mucking around with my friends were photographed and made their way to the tabloids. I felt really alone as I didn’t know who I could rely on.

I felt I was under greater scrutiny even when I was doing other things kids my age were doing. My mum put pressure on me to behave a certain way. She’d say: ‘If you get caught behaving badly and I lose my job, we’d have to take you out of your nice private school, away from your friends.’ It was always made clear to us that if we did anything to jeopardise my mum’s career, the whole family would lose out. It meant I learned to lie really well. I played two parts – the straight A student at school, then outside of school with my friends getting totally off my face. I turned to alcohol and drugs from early in my teen years to help with the pressure.