What a different world it was when I first sailed for Europe in 1930, with my mother, sister, and brother to spend six months abroad.
In my early days in Hollywood I tried to be economical. I designed my own clothes, much to my mother's distress.
My mother would not talk to me for weeks, would not stay under my roof for as long as I was married to Oleg.
The main cause of my difficulties stemmed from the tragedy of my daughter's unsound birth and my inability to face my feelings.
I never understood the theory, once popular among doctors, that blamed mental disorders on too little or too much mother love. My own mother was my darling.