I was trapped by the money

Dave 55 from Wales. Lawyer. Married, two kids. Lives in London

How are you? 

Just to give you some context. I was born in Stoke On Trent. We moved back to Wales when I was about 4. I went to the local primary schools where there were just 60 kids. I speak Welsh. I'm proud of being Welsh. I am a massive fan of Welsh rugby. I was the only one from my school to leave Wales and go to university. I did law. My parents split up when I was 10. They had an horrendous divorce. Mum didn’t want me to see my dad so I used to meet him in secret. We played golf together. It was my dad who encouraged me to come to London. 

I remember my first day at my firm with all the other trainees. They wore smarter suits, appeared more confident and grown up than me. In fact they were more confident than me, they’d come from privileged backgrounds. What chance did I have?

As time went by I realised I was as good, if not better than my contemporaries. I was hungrier. I didn’t take what I had granted. I had student debts to pay off. There was no gap year for me, I went straight to work. I arrived in London in September 1987. I was 22. So when people talk about social mobility and broken homes I find it a little bit irritating. Maybe it is harder these days?

Two years ago I went for therapy. Work was getting me down as was my mother. It helped massively. I wanted to start the therapy with issues around my mother because she had been bothering me my whole life. I came out of the first session, sat in the car and cried for 15 minutes. I was 52. The co-head of global real estate at one the world's top law firms. I was paid a fortune. I was travelling to America 5 -6 times a year, business or first class the whole way. Staying in top hotels, playing at top golf courses. On one level I was living the dream but inside I wasn’t. 

How did it manifest? The relentless pressure to perform and the travelling. I didn't realise how much the black cloud was dragging me down. I was drinking too much. Alcohol became a release. I wasn't an alcoholic but it was the trigger.

There were lots of politics going on at work. There was a campaign to make our lives miserable. I’m stubborn. The more you tell me not to do something, the more I'll do it. It was making me angrier and angrier. I was carrying it around with me, carrying it home to the kids and my wife. I just wasn't myself. I wanted to punch somebody. Then the guilt set in. ‘What the fuck does he have to worry about? Driving around in a fancy car, with two perfect kids and a trophy wife?’. I felt so guilty. I’m living the most privileged lifestyle. I’m in the top 1%. You’re somewhere you never thought you’d be and maybe you shouldn’t be, but you are. It dragged me down. So that's what made me go to therapy. 

Hearing a trained specialist tell me how my mother had created a bubble for herself, and the bubble couldn’t be burst or she’d collapse helped. I managed to drag the anger out of me and part of that was leaving my job. 

It all came to ahead when I was accused of harassment.They were looking for an excuse to get rid of me. I knew the spin on it would be that I was a sex pest or something. Fortunately it was found there was no case to answer but it made me feel very vulnerable never the less.

How did that affect your daughter? That was the hardest conversations I've ever had. My wife was supportive. How does it feel that you were slapped down a bit? 

It's probably more of an outsiders perception than an insider one. I always thought I was privileged to be where I was. The cards have fallen positively throughout my career. To the outside world I was - ‘wow, the boy’s done well, he’s in the legal 500 hall of fame’. Inside, I was never that self assured. I think that goes back to when my mum was going through a bad patch. She had been committed a few times. I had to hide a lot of stuff growing up. Compartmentalising things or tucking them away.

The situation knocked me. I'd always had control and I’d lost it. It’s that control that makes me a great lawyer. That's what troubled me most. I knew I hadn’t done anything wrong. I felt exhausted, mentally and physically. I felt everything had been building to this for a few years. I had a lot of support from people. It's funny who comes out of the woodwork. I was trapped by the money. It probably needed something like this to wake me up.  

Are you a changed person? I wouldn't say I'm changed. I'm probably how I was 10 - 15 years ago. I’ve dropped the baggage somewhere along the line. I'm not perfect, don’t get me wrong but I feel a lot better for therapy.

How do you see yourself? 

I think this goes back to my childhood. Coming from a small village in Wales, with my mum and everything, I don't need people to like me. I am myself with people. I don't need any reassurances. 

Do you like you? 

Most the time. I think a lot of people like me. I’m good company. I’m very loyal.

How do you think other people see you? 

Resilience but also stubborn.

What do you think about marriage? 

 I've always wanted to get married. I suppose I'm old fashioned. I wanted kids and in my mind's eye that involved getting married. We’ve been married 29 years. We were friends for four or five years before we went out. We were good friends. Obviously the danger is, if it goes wrong you lose one of your best friends. I suppose the flip side of that is 29 years later, I think it's probably like living with your sister. 

Getting a dog has made all the difference to our relationship. Before she came along we’d do our own thing at the weekend. But now, come rain or shine we are out for a walk. We stop at the pub and just talk. It’s reengaged us.

What do you think about children?

I was never great with babies that’s why we stopped at two. I was working so hard in those days so I missed large parts of it. We reaped the rewards later, as have the kids. I don't think they missed out on much. I don’t think the kids notice that dad’s not in the house when they were having a bath. I used to take them to swimming lessons and weekend rugby. 

I look at my children now, they’ve had privileged upbringings. My son has that confidence that I didn't. Comparing him at 18 to me at 18, it’s like chalk and cheese. I suppose you get what you pay for in life. 

 Where does all your energy go?

Work. I am very focused. In my prime I was a very good lawyer. If we went on holiday I couldn't relax. I’d check my phone every hour. Work is like a hobby now. I'm working with my mates for my mates. I’m doing all the stuff I enjoy. I’ve left all the crap behind.

What’s the most memorable experience?

The greatest benefit from working for an American law firm for 17 years was, I got to play golf at Augusta National in Georgia. It's where they play the U S Masters. You can't pay money to do that. You have to be invited by a member. I've played golf all my life. I’ve watched the Masters on TV. I once went to Augusta to watch the golf which was special enough. Then I got a call - ‘Do you want play it’? And the answer was obviously - YES! It was surreal. I had my own caddy. I was in a place of dreams, walking down an immaculate fairway. ‘Augusta’ is a childhood dream that only a fraction of people on the planet will get to fulfil. 

What do you think about life? 

I'm not particularly religious. I hedge my bets just in case. I think when we die, we die. I don't want to embrace death just yet. I hate it when people are taken away too soon. When I retire I will buy a telescope and spend some time staring at the sky. Logically there’s got to be something else out there. Some form of life. 

What do you think about death?

I'm not going to dwell on things or be anxious. If the bullets got your name on it, it’s got our name on it! Embrace death. Growing up in Wales, the wake is very much a celebration of life. You're there to celebrate, have a drink, not to sit down looking glum. When my great aunt died when my son was 18. I hadn’t forewarned him he was going to be a pallbearer. He said, he really didn't want to do it but I told him he had no choice. I told him that after me he was the most senior male and it was his duty. After he got over the initial shock he thought it was a good tradition. We lowered the coffin into the grave. He had one end of the rope and I had the other. He was looking at me like - what sort of voodoo is this? 

What brings you down? 

I am a remarkably upbeat person. I think those few years of work brought me down but that was a short phase. I’m generally a happy and positive person. I think I'm a lucky, lucky, person. I think I’ve always got to keep in mind that I have a privileged life. 

How would you like to leave the next generation?

For my children to have affectionate thoughts about me as I slip away. 

The white middle-class male doesn't get good press at the moment. Suddenly we are the bad guys. It gets my goat up. I don’t think we get a fair crack at the whip. We are all pigeon holed. Throughout my career I’ve been massively pushing female lawyers forward. Me and my mate led a campaign to get the maternity rights improved because in America they don't take that seriously. I'm just trying to make little differences where I can.

What do you think about doing this?

Ten years ago I’d have said - nah, bollocks I’m not doing it. But therapy has been an eye opener. I’m a bit of a therapy bore now. My therapist taught me how to deal with my mother. I used to drink a bottle of wine before a half hour phone call with my mother on a Sunday night, and it wouldn’t touch the sides. The therapist made me feel so much better about myself. I think therapy's a brilliant thing. When you're in a dark moment it gives you pointers and life lessons to help you deal with it going forward.