SARAH VINE opens her heart about Michael Gove's cocaine past

During my time as a columnist for this great newspaper, I have tackled a few painful and deeply personal subjects.

I have written about my hair loss, my struggles with my weight, my anxiety and depression, my shortcomings as a parent, wife and friend — and much more besides.

At all times I have tried to be as open and as honest as I can without laying myself completely bare — inevitably, there are some darker recesses of my psyche that must remain private.

I believe that candour, though sometimes very uncomfortable, is ultimately the key to understanding. And while critics have often accused me of oversharing, I have always tried to use my platform to make a wider point about life’s vicissitudes.

A few weeks ago, Michael came home slightly ashen-faced. The publication date, he had been informed, was being brought forward to coincide with the Tory leadership campaign. Pictured are Sarah Vine and Michael Gove

A few weeks ago, Michael came home slightly ashen-faced. The publication date, he had been informed, was being brought forward to coincide with the Tory leadership campaign. Pictured are Sarah Vine and Michael Gove

But this week’s subject is the hardest I have ever had to write about, not least because it engages both the personal and the universal in a whirlwind of complex emotions.

I am referring, of course, to the Mail’s serialisation of a book about my husband, Michael Gove, and the revelations therein.

Michael first mentioned that someone was writing a book about him a while ago. The author had been fishing around friends and colleagues, asking for interviews and anecdotes. I parked it in that part of my brain marked ‘bridges to be crossed when we come to them’, and thought no more of it.

What matters is not where you come from, it’s where you are going and what you do along the way. Life is all about being honest about the bad decisions one makes, trying to learn from those failings and, wherever possible, making reparations

What matters is not where you come from, it’s where you are going and what you do along the way. Life is all about being honest about the bad decisions one makes, trying to learn from those failings and, wherever possible, making reparations

Then, a few weeks ago, Michael came home slightly ashen-faced. The publication date, he had been informed, was being brought forward to coincide with the Tory leadership campaign.

Precise details were not forthcoming; but he had been told that it contained information about his birth mother, including details of her name, profession and Michael’s original birth certificate.

I have always known that Michael was adopted, and indeed it was one of the first things he told me about himself when we met more than 20 years ago.

Right from the start, he made it clear he had no intention of searching for his birth mother. His parents, Ernest and Christine, had always been more than enough for him.

Above all, he did not want his mum and dad to think they had been anything less than the best of parents. Every opportunity, every chance he has had in life, he owes to them.

Thanks to their love, he felt no emotional void in his life, and no need to track down someone who had, for whatever reasons, decided she was not ready to be a parent.

But now it had been done for him. The trauma of his birth and first few months in care were about to be revealed in detail.

Don’t get me wrong. I understand that any person putting themselves forward for the job of leader of a political party and/or, in this case, Prime Minister, must expect a degree of scrutiny. But I just couldn’t see any purpose in dredging up that aspect of Michael’s past.

So when the book was serialised and it contained a plethora of juicy anecdotes about Michael’s life before we met — some of which made me chuckle, I wasn’t surprised.

What I wasn’t prepared for were the far more serious revelations that have dominated the headlines in recent days.

As someone who has done and said innumerable stupid things in her life, many of which I have later come to regret, I have always believed that past mistakes should not determine a person’s future.

What matters is not where you come from, it’s where you are going and what you do along the way. Life is all about being honest about the bad decisions one makes, trying to learn from those failings and, wherever possible, making reparations.

In Michael’s case, he has always felt that he was given a second chance. Had he not ended up with the parents he did, he might have grown up in care, gone to a failing school and wound up somewhere completely different to where he is today.

That is why he has always been passionate about reforming education so all children get the best chances; and why, when he worked at the Ministry of Justice, he was so keen to focus on prisoner rehabilitation.

Put simply, he always felt that there but for the grace of God . . . (or, more precisely, Ernest and Christine Gove).

That is why, when it became clear that a private conversation Michael had had about the fact that — long before he even thought about entering frontline politics — he had taken drugs was about to be revealed, I had no hesitation. Just be honest, I told him. Tell the truth on television, rather than shy away or dodge questions.

Face up to it and accept the consequences, however embarrassing and damaging they may be.

It would have been better,

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