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It’s amusing to think what a quiet life I could have had when I was my daughter’s age, if only I had understood what my best mate was on.

True, I would still have had to contend with reactions to my nerdy face and form, forever a source of derision. That was inescapable.

But had I not been so desperate for friends — any friends — and not just attached myself to the first person to be nice to me, I could have been a complete nobody, ignored by all.

Instead, I had to contend with preposterous interventions on my behalf, attributing ideas to me I would never have countenanced, which ended up making my life pure misery.

So it’s unfortunate that the first time I realised what my mate was on was at our leaving party, witness to the behaviour of him and his own mates, hunting for girls to spend the night with.

That was the evening I realised I neither knew them, nor did they know me. Just then, the past eighteen months of misery flashed before my eyes, as everything suddenly made sense. But, by then, it was much too late.

I worry less for our daughter than I do for our son. Boys are so easily influenced by their mates, no matter how idiotic their behaviour. To be part of the crowd, they will do nearly anything.

May God preserve our children from experiences like my own, and steer them towards sound companions and positive role models. And may they be granted the ability to speak for themselves too.