A friend recently observed that there are two people in her. ‘Normally, I am a rational, self-controlled, mature woman. But there are times when the little girl that I was comes out, with all her insecurities, and controls what I do.’

She speaks of emotionally trying times. Sometimes these are when matters of the heart are preeminent in her thoughts. Sometimes they are when she encounters hurt.

My friend is insightful. The little girl in me, who has her own share of insecurities, leaps unaccountably to the fore when I least want her to. ‘Darling,’ my mother says. ‘We’re running out of milk’. The rational me would answer, ‘Yep! It’s on the list’. Instead, I snap back: ‘Oh for heaven’s sake, I know that already!’ My mother’s innocent comment triggers an old, old reflex within the little girl who felt deeply inadequate among the much-older, much more life-experienced people around her.

It becomes more complicated in my marriage. There isn’t just a little girl who comes to the fore. You guessed it: there’s a little boy who marches out too, demanding his share of attention. Ever seen pre-schoolers in a play-ground? It isn’t pretty among adults.

I think my friend’s analysis is spot-on. It’s another tool with which to interpret my extraordinarily unpredictable relational behaviour.

Her solution? She says, ‘I have to talk to that little girl and calm her fears.’

I’m off to do the same.