A child's first day of school gives every parent immense pride - and everyone else a reason to avoid Facebook for 24 hours.

Every little darling is "so adorable" and "beyond cute" as our timelines are congested with photos and posts from parents who are determined to out-do each other. World Book Day and Christmas Jumper Day invoke similar responses involving repeated eye-rolling.

But, jokes aside, and even if your child has been at nursery full-time for most of their baby and toddler years, when we send our kids off to school for the first time it's a milestone as important as their 16th birthday or the day they get married.

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In the same way that we all remember where we were when we heard of the 9/11 attack, or the death of the late Queen Elizabeth II, our child's first day of school is a key moment in their life and the image of them in their 'one size too big' uniform is one which will stay with us forever.

My daughter Abigail and I lived in Cumbria when she started school in 2019. She attended the previously independent Chetwynde School in Barrow-in-Furness where the uniform truly is "beyond cute" and comes complete with an adorable Bowler hat.

Every day after school she would run towards me and fill me in on all the exciting and interesting things she'd learned. Even now, five years on, she still looks forward to going to school and during half term and the summer holidays she laments not being in the classroom.

Every so often, there would come a time when I had to pop into school; to drop off her PE kit or reading book, and Abigail would always beam with delight and give me a massive kiss and cuddle if I ever walked into her classroom.

But last month that all changed. And it's a stark reminder that my little girl is growing up.

Abigail had broken her elbow by falling out of a tree and so she spent the next six weeks with her arm in a cast. On her first day back at school after the accident I received a call telling me that she was in pain and struggling.

I raced down to the school, Calpol in hand, and with my maternal instincts in control, I rushed over to her in the classroom and gave her a big kiss and cuddle. Uh oh. Big no-no.

Abigail immediately looked embarrassed and pushed me away. I was heart-broken.

Even though none of her classmates reacted similarly it was clear that my little girl had reached the age where parental displays of affection are best kept private.

In research for this article I came across several parental advice websites which discussed the concept of bodily autonomy which is described as a person’s right to decide what happens to their own body without external influence.

I can guarantee that such concepts were non-existent when I was growing up in the late 80s and early 90s. You might not have relished hugging that elderly relative but it was just the 'done thing'.

One psychiatrist is quoted as saying: "Children need to know that no one should touch their body without their consent."

This makes me wonder: Are we over-thinking parenting? Can us parents really not be trusted to use our instincts and be the expert that bringing up a child turns us into?

And while my daughter might continue to pull away from me when her friends are present, I won't stop showering her with embarrassing kisses - at home at least.