I had a bit of a ‘harsh’ childhood.  I had 2 loving parents, well technically 4, siblings, grandparents, friends, aunts and an uncle that decided that he like me just a little too much.  He wasn’t my direct uncle, a step-uncle, but still a family member.

This was something, that at the age of 10 when it started, I knew was wrong.  Sheesh, my mom had sent me to every kiddies seminar on this issue that I could remember, but I didn’t stop it.  To this day I don’t know why;  I suppose it was the attention that he paid me?  I honestly cannot answer that question.  Now before everyone starts yelling at me “it wasn’t your fault!” – yes, I know that.  I was only 10.  But it’s still something that irks me to this day.  I’m now 27.

I can’t remember exactly when, but I do recall telling my older cousin, that this uncle had tried to kiss me, but I didn’t go any further than that.  I then recall my mom and my aunt having a massive fight over the telephone a few months later, and that’s when my world turned upside down.  This secret, this burden that I’d been carrying around for 2 years, was out.  I suppose I was one of the lucky ones;  so much abuse is never found out or reported.  But I will always remember that night.  It’s engrained in my memory.

Life was very different after that.  For some time I’d said that I’d wanted to live with my father, but I’d only really ever known him as the ‘holiday dad’, or ‘every second weekend dad’.  Living with him and my former step-mom was very different.  It took me ages to adjust, almost 2.5 years actually.  I asked a few times to go back to my mom, but it never happened.  I was told that being with my father was the best thing for me, and look how my grades had slipped and how much better they are etc.  Yeah, my grades got better, but that was due to me having nothing else to do but study, as I didn’t make friends easily, and stayed cooped up in my bedroom every night, and every weekend.  In the bigger scope of things, I am grateful that I did my 5 years of high school away from everything, as I was able to focus on my studies, and it was overall a good 5 years, minus the first 2.5 years of course 😉

What happened to me still lingers with me;  I think about it every now and then.  I however always refused to let it define my life, and who I am and who I’m going to be.  I remember my former primary school principal taking me out of class the 1 day, close to the end of the year, after I’d sworn at someone on the sports field during break time, and due to my ‘situation’, he just spoke to me;  no detention was issued, or letter sent home to my father.  I was in a ‘delicate situation’ apparently.

I was forced to see a shrink, who I personally thought could have been a paedophile himself, but I only saw him once or twice I think.  I remember informing 1 of my parents of how uncomfortable I was, but being forced to see him again.  I mean come on;  this huge secret just gets blurted out to the entire world (an exaggeration, I know) and now I must show this weirdo-man with some even weirder dolls, what this uncle did to me?  Um, no.

I think I ended my shrink episodes;  I have just never been comfortable spilling my deepest, darkest secrets to a complete stranger, even if I’ve seen him/her a few times.  I dealt with my issues myself.  Yes, I still have the memories, but honestly, they have started to fade, and I can’t remember every single detail.  Yes, I remember how it started.  That night will stay with me for as long as I allow it to I suppose.

I also remember the 1 parent telling me that my other parent MUST have known what was going on, in her house, under her nose.  And for a while, I must sadly admit, I believed this parent.  But as I got on with life, it suddenly dawned on me… WTF?!  No chance in hell would my mother have allowed anything of this nature to go on if she knew about it!  She herself is a survivor, so that was a serious WTF moment.  I am actually embarrassed to admit that I believed that crap, even if it was for such a short period of time.

Yes, something awful happened to me.  But that’s just it;  it happened.  I have chosen to get on with my life.  I will be the only one wasting my life if I let this define who I am and who I will be.

I am a survivor.



3 Replies to “surviving”

    1. Thanks so much for your comment; I don’t think about this period of my life much anymore, and I’ve refused to let it define me. But I just felt like I should jot something down, get my story, even if just a little bit of it, out there.

      To let people know that life does carry on, if you allow it to, if you choose for it to.


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