‘The 8-year-old me was frozen in time, deep within my body and soul, ready to emerge later’

Aged 8, I was abandoned by my parents at a residential school many miles from home. So began a period of ten years where I spent 42 weeks each year living at school and only 10 weeks living at home with my mother, father, sister and various pets. All family attachments were well and truly ruptured. Now, aged 77, I ask: Was I let down by Psychologists, both then and now?

I have no idea what psychologists in 1956 were saying about boarding schools, and I doubt if my headmaster had read any psychological books. Certainly the psychiatrist and psychoanalyst John Bowlby is reported to have said 'I wouldn't send a dog away to boarding school at age 7', after his own traumatic experience. What I do know is that boarding school is now at least on the radar of British Psychology. There have been numerous books in recent years on the topic of its impact; a new film on whether our leaders are traumatised by their experiences there; and at least some research, published and ongoing. But boarding school is an elusive thing to study psychologically, and there remain unanswered questions. 

Here, I would like to consider some of those issues, share my own experiences, and encourage Psychologists to get on board with boarding school… 

Attachment and emotion 

As an adult I learned that my two boarding schools could be described as my 'Alma Mater', which translates as 'nourishing mother'. It's not a description I would use. The schools effectively broke the bond I had with my mother. When she first came to visit me to take me out for the day after about a month at my new Prep school, she was upset that instead of running into her arms I ran straight past her into the car. Shall we call that avoidant attachment?

My mother always claimed that she was more upset than I was about leaving me at school that day as she drove home weeping and clutching my teddy bear that the headmaster advised had no place at the school. Boarding school was very much what she felt was needed, what everyone else she knew agreed to be right. To do otherwise than to send me would be a neglect of her maternal duties – that is what she told herself. But her body and soul were telling her something quite different. 

Whereas my mother's tears flowed, I was learning rule number 1 of boarding school – suppress your feelings and don't cry. Early in my boarding school career my headmaster wrote in my school report 'In a third term he must put away these childish ways'. And I did, not least because I wanted to avoid the standard punishment for poor behaviour – caning.

When I left school aged 18, I had cognitively forgotten/minimised the initial trauma. It was hiding because survival had entailed denying emotion and adopting a highly logical approach. The initial abandonment, and the intense feeling of loss and sadness in a strange environment that feels very unsafe, is replaced over time by a sense of normalised neglect. A kind of false adult self is created, with the 8-year-old child frozen in time, but emotionally hiding away deep within my body and soul, ready to emerge later in life.

Normalised, and normalising

For me, that normalised neglect is still hiding away deep inside British society. We kind of know it is not right to send very young children away from home for their education – no psychological theories of child development support it – yet there are still some 65,000 students attending UK independent boarding schools. And quite regularly, I encounter stories of those scarred by their experiences. For example, in the obituary of the great champion of children, Baroness Faithfull: 'Her unhappy boarding-school years convinced her that children need a parent or parent substitute for a satisfactory emotional development.' Or comedian Eric Idle, when asked what first drew him to comedy: 'Probably spending 12 years at boarding school – comedy became a survival gene'. Peter Cook is another comic from that era who used comedy to survive and avoid the bullies, and now a younger generation of comics such as Adam Buxton and Ivo Graham speak openly about their traumatic boarding experiences. Tom Greaves' play 'Fudgey', described as a brutally funny dark comedy about boarding school, won awards at the 2024 Edinburgh Fringe. 

So when George Monbiot, writing in The Guardian in 1998, said: 'Britain's most overt form of child abuse is mysteriously ignored', there was no backlash or shock-horror response. Virtually everybody, including sometimes those that still use the schools, know that they are not truly safe, especially for young children. But perhaps 'surviving' them brings gives a certain type of earned resilience, as well as a membership of an elite club. Boris Johnson was our 20^th Prime Minister who went to school at Eton, and there seems little doubt they play a key role in maintaining Britain's rigid class structure. 

And race, too. At school, I was taught to be a proud Englishman, but this pride was also linked to a colonial perception that the English were better than everybody else. It was a form of pride tinged with arrogance and racism. What did I learn, for example, about the slave trade? Well, mainly that it was stopped by William Wilberforce. This rosy picture of history went to the very top: a month before I was born, Sir Winston Churchill said in the House of Commons: 'For my part I consider it will be found much better by all parties to leave the past to history, especially as I propose to write that history myself'. 

I have tried to break away from a life of white privilege and all that entails. But I am also aware that this was my educational base, and that some of those messages reside within me as a form of unwanted sediment.

What we know, and what we don't

So, what of psychology and psychologists? Some have spoken up, with Professor of Clinical Psychology Richard Bentall writing about his experience in blogs and newspaper articles. He speaks of being unhappy and bullied at boarding school, and of his younger brother being thrown out of the same school. His brother tragically took his own life as a young man, and Bentall feels that boarding school played an important but complex role in his brother's pathway from childhood to suicide. 

Commenting on an earlier draft of this article, Bentall added 'I found myself both damaged by my education and also embarrassed and to some extent guilty about being afforded the privilege. That said, my life worked out ok in the end so maybe I shouldn't complain too much. My headmaster, on noting how unhappy I was, tried to reassure me that "All this will make you stronger" and perhaps he was right.'

Perhaps that sentiment lies at the heart of the silence from most other psychologists. Perhaps they had a good experience of boarding school, but perhaps instead they have bought into that idea of survival, and would rather not examine it further. Arguably, those who would benefit most from examining the psychological impact of those experiences are precisely those least likely to do so.

Speaking personally, despite learning and applying psychological theories for many years as a social worker and mental health trainer/educator, it took me a while to apply them to myself. It was only at age 56 that I enlisted on a weekend workshop run by Boarding School Survivors. Here I learned about the 'Strategic Survival Personality' which the psychotherapist Nick Duffell had proposed, from his work with clients and his own experience of boarding. Ever since, I have tried to recognise my survival personality, accept that it served a good purpose but then forge a life where mere survival is replaced by living a fuller and hopefully happier life. The original workshop felt like shedding a skin. It was more emotional than cognitive and set the scene for future work. Somehow I have remained involved as a survivor working with other survivors, and have devoted myself to spreading the word and hoping to make an impact on the literature on this important and very personal topic.

So it's pleasing for me to see that since psychoanalyst Joy Schaverien's 2015 book about what she has termed 'Boarding School Syndrome', publishers Routledge will this year put out their tenth and eleventh books on the topic of the psychological and social impact of boarding school. A welcome focus of this year's offerings is girls and women. One of the 11 books, edited by three eminent psychologists in Penny Cavenagh, Susan McPherson and Jane Ogden and published in 2023, reports on various interesting and informative research projects linked to doctoral studies of clinical psychologists in training. This adds to other books where the data is often gleaned from clinical details and reflections as well as personal testimonies from survivors. It's a balanced book, with emotional damage highlighted alongside more positive outcomes such as resilience and a sense of independence. In their conclusion the Editors make what feels like a big leap and propose the concept of 'Boarding Family Syndrome' – they feel it is not the schools themselves but the families of boarders that are the primary cause of ex-boarders' adult distress. 

For me, that feels a bit like the schools are being let off the hook. But I also recognise the challenges inherent in researching an area with so many interconnected variables. For example, commenting on that earlier draft, Richard Bentall said: 'My take, for what it's worth, is that the boarding school is likely to have a disruptive effect on attachment relationships with all sorts of knock-on consequences (e.g. risk of depression) but that might be very hard to demonstrate because of many moderating factors. Two important ones are the quality of family relationships outside boarding school, and family history of boarding education. I imagine it is one thing to be raised in a loving and supporting family (to have a secure base) with a culture of boarding education (and so having the expectation that loving parents send their kids to elite schools), and quite another thing to be raised by cold parents who can't wait to get you out of the way as soon as possible, so dispatch you off to boarding school with little preparation.'

Bentall also rightly flags the quality of the experience while at boarding school. 'I came from a pretty ordinary middle-class family that made big financial sacrifices to send me to Uppingham, but I arrived in a school that treated me as a complete outsider, mainly based on my class. I had almost no friends between the age of 14 and 18. I think a very large random probability epidemiological sample would be required to show these effects, and it would have to be UK-based. I've had a quick look at the Adult Psychiatric Morbidity Survey and, so far as I can see, although they ask a lot of questions about early life the one thing they don't ask about is type of schooling.'

Perhaps it's time those questions were asked, by psychologists and others. I believe there's some ongoing research on the impact of boarding school on later life (at the School of Psychology, University of Southampton) and I would be interested to hear of any more research.

Improvements?

Surely the schools are more child-centred, less violent, more flexible, hopefully more safe than in my day? Perhaps, but then we might expect to be seeing fewer referrals for psychological therapy for ex-boarders. Instead, the reverse is the case. Similarly training courses for psychotherapists are numerous, with more and more practitioners offering an expertise in 'Boarding School Syndrome'.

I do actually believe that the schools are better these days. But the practice of separation from family still lies at the heart of their modus operandi. Perhaps this practice is deeply rooted in a part of the British psyche – in our conscious and unconscious. We are known for our 'stiff upper lip', and that's perhaps not something we are prepared to give up?

The challenge for psychologists and other psychologically minded workers is to take a good hard look at modern day boarding schools and answer the questions: Do these schools, particularly the Prep schools, really need to be boarding schools? Do children as young as 8 need to be educated in residential settings? Is school really something to be 'survived'? My answer to all these questions is 'no'. What is your answer?

Useful resources

Books:

Cavenagh, P., McPherson S. & Ogden J. (Eds.) (2023) The Psychological Impact of Boarding School: The Trunk in the Hall, Abingdon and New York: Routledge.

Duffell, N. (Ed.) (2025) The Un-making of Them – Clinical Reflections on Boarding School Syndrome, Abingdon and New York: Routledge.

Duffell, N. & Basset, T. (2016) Trauma, Abandonment and Privilege: a guide to therapeutic work with boarding school survivors, Abingdon and New York: Routledge.

Laughton, M., Paech-Ujejski, A. & Patterson, A. (Eds.) (2021) Men's Accounts of Boarding School: Sent Away, Abingdon and New York: Routledge.

Moxey, N. & Devereux, L. (Eds.) (2025) Exploring Boarding School Challenges for Women and Third Culture Kids: Worlds Away from Home, Abingdon and New York: Routledge.

Renton, A. (2017) Stiff Upper Lip: Secrets, Crimes and the Schooling of the Ruling Class, London: Weidenfield and Nicholson.

Schaverien, J. (2015) Boarding School Syndrome: The Psychological Trauma of the 'Privileged' Child, Abingdon and New York: Routledge. 

Simpson, N. (Ed.) (2018) Finding Our Way Home: Women's Accounts of Being Sent to Boarding School, Abingdon and New York: Routledge.

Websites:

www.bss-support.org.uk

www.boardingschoolsurvivors.co.uk

www.seenheard.org.uk

www.boardingrecovery.com

Film:

Boarding on Insanity – Ben Cole – 2025

www.boardingoninsanity.com

Book reviews

Exploring Boarding School Challenges for Women and Third Culture Kids: Worlds Away from Home
Nicky Moxey and Linda Devereux (Editors)

At the heart of this book lie compelling lived experience accounts of 16 girls who have attended British boarding schools. Many of them are described as Third Culture Kids (TCKs) – a description that applies to children who live in a country that is not the country of their passport or where they might be considered as citizens. They have lived abroad as their parent/s worked in business, the military and in missionary work. Their lives are often full of many changes of location, almost nomadic. All are sent to boarding school at some point in their childhoods, with this relocation adding to their list of being supplanted to yet another culture. 

Most, but not all, are British and most of the boarding schools are in Britain. Their boarding school experience spans 40 years with some going a long time ago and others much more recently. An overall theme of their stories is one of moving from a warm family-based and largely welcoming culture to a cold, even frosty, unfriendly residential institution.

The editors give context to these stories in relation to writing and research about gender and TCKs. Writings from psychotherapists give further thoughtful insights. Suzanne Zeedyk, Research Scientist and Developmental Psychologist, writes about the denial of harm as she looks at boarding school through an attachment-trauma lens. She calls for a ban on early boarding. There is a final chapter giving some advice about how boarding schools could become safer havens.

This is a substantial and thought-provoking book highly relevant for all involved in the broad world of education and psychology, as well as parents who may be considering boarding school – not least because, as the book states, currently around 40 per cent of pupils at British boarding schools come from overseas. 

The Unmaking of Them: Clinical Reflections on Boarding School Syndrome
Nick Duffell (Editor)

This book showcases work from a growing body of reflective clinicians, building on foundations laid by the editor Nick Duffell, who founded Boarding School Survivors at the close of the last century, and Joy Schaverien, who more recently coined the term Boarding School Syndrome. 

Over 12 chapters these clinicians, psychologists, psychotherapists and counsellors, reflect on their work with ex-boarders. Much of the writing focuses on working with individuals and there are helpful and insightful descriptions of therapeutic interventions. The focus is sometimes on specific groups such as boarders from military backgrounds, ex-pat boarders and the effects of boarding on sibling relationships. Authors give an honest and deep description of their work and don't shy away from difficulties and potential pitfalls. They are also generous in sharing useful tools and techniques.

Some chapters focus on group work – one where the authors share their experience of facilitating workshops for women who have boarded. This is one of a number of most welcome chapters that focuses on girls' and women's experience.

One author used questionnaires to explore the effect of co-educational boarding on girls and there is also an enlightening study of school counsellors in boarding school. One chapter introduces an innovative clinical framework for working with ex-boarder clients and also recommends the approach used in the British Psychological Society's Power Threat Meaning Framework.

There is a debate at times in the book about the pros and cons of therapists being ex-boarders, as many of them are. This issue is discussed in a very helpful chapter about supervision written by an author who is both not British and not an ex-boarder. 

This book is a strong step forwards and there are various possible future research and training initiatives which could follow. A focus on issues for Black boarders and LGBTQ boarders, whilst referred to in the book, would warrant more attention.