Photography: Babiche Martens
Aucklander Megan Nicol Reed, 51, is a former newspaper columnist who has turned her hand to fiction. Megan’s second novel, Other People’s Bodies, is out now.
My mum was 18 when she moved to Auckland from Dunedin.
She promptly met my father, an art student at Elam, and they got pregnant. Even though Dad dreamed of being an artist, he ended up training as a teacher instead. His first job was at St Stephen’s, a school south of Auckland. I have vivid memories of living there, including having a pet goat. Even though I was very young then, I’m still very fond of goats.
Mum read all Dr Spock’s parenting books, which were very child-centred.
One thing she learned was that when the baby woke in the night, parents weren’t meant to get it back to sleep straight away. Instead, they were encouraged to sit up and do puzzles with the child to stimulate its intellect. My poor mother must have been beside herself with exhaustion.
We moved into town before I started school and when I was eight, Mum went on a workshop to find her inner clown.
She didn’t find her inner clown, but she did find Jan. Even though my parents moved in very liberal, artsy circles, things became dramatic when Mum left Dad for another woman. Jan, however, was the love of Mum’s life. There was sadness around my parents breaking up and I felt for Dad, but Jan is like my third parent, and I am so thankful to have had the childhood I had.
For a job, I either wanted to save the world or do something with writing.
At university, I quickly realised law was not for me and English felt waffly, so I sidestepped into political science and French. I wasn’t a natural linguist, but I fell in love with France, especially Paris, during a high-school language exchange. So I worked really hard and as soon as I graduated, I moved to France and worked as a nanny, then a translator.
After a few years, I became homesick and my French fiancé wanted to learn English, so we came back with his rottweiler.
It’s very complicated to bring a dog to New Zealand, so I came ahead and he followed six months later with the dog. But once he was here, he wasn’t able to hide his philandering ways. So I sent him — and the dog — back to France.
I was a wreck after that, so some friends suggested George, whom I’d met in passing, ask me out on a date.
We hired a scooter on Waiheke Island, and had lunch and went swimming. That was 27 years ago. It was our 23rd wedding anniversary recently and lovely George described that date in detail, including what I was wearing. We bring each other a sense of peace and I don’t think that can ever be underestimated.
I’m not sure why, but I’m not on any social media.
No Facebook. No Instagram. No Twitter. So with our kids Archie [21] and Peggy [17], I’m fairly relaxed. Maybe because I’ve not been exposed to the full horrors? We still talk about the pitfalls and delights, and I just hope they grow up with a good, balanced attitude because you can’t ban kids from things. Their world is very online, so we have to make it better and safer, rather than live in a state of denial.
In my early forties, I experienced horrendous anxiety ‒ almost a nervous breakdown.
I didn’t realise at the time that it was perimenopause. As a result, I didn’t have the capacity to think about anyone else. It was only when I was out the other side that I realised I hadn’t heard from a dear friend overseas for some time. Turns out she didn’t think I was there for her when she was having a rough time. I’ve tried to talk to her, and she’s swayed between anger and saying everything is fine, but I know it’s not. Breaking up with a friend is very painful.
My very first journalism job was with TVNZ’s first website nzoom and I was sent to interview a writer called Sheridan Keith.
She had a beautiful antique shop filled with glorious things and when I visited, she was in the back writing a novel or a short story. Her partner was also a dealer — his specialty was English antiques, while hers was French. They would often go on buying trips together. That could be my goal in life, to be like Sheridan Keith, an antique dealer who writes novels. That would be lovely.”
Other People’s Bodies by Megan Nicol Reed (Allen & Unwin, rrp $36.99)
