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As an only child, I had no one to look up to really as a kid. But I always looked up to my Dad. Even though he was never really around due to work (although Mam worked more than he did and still found lots of time to spend with me), I still idolised him. He was my hero. He would always say 'Dads know everything - remember that', so lying to my dad (even little white lies) were pointless. Though when I hit 13 I began to realise he actually DID know everything. He knew what myself and my friends would talk about, he would know exactly where I was and who I was with without even needing to ask me, and I would always wonder why. In reality he had my phone tracked and could read all my messages. Now that I have been through the court system and he has been imprisoned for the abuse he inflicted upon me, I can confirm that he was in fact grooming me from the age of 13. About a month after my 18th Birthday, began the horrific 7.5 year abuse that I suffered. My Dad, masked for the first 2 years as a stranger, blackmailed me into performing sexual acts with strange men in our home - the one place I should've felt safe. When I finally realised it was him, I couldn't tell you how it then turned into just open ended abuse and rape from him. He would advertise us as a couple on hook up sites and in order to avoid physical beatings I would go along with it. I feared for my life so much that endless rapes and sexual assaults were easier - imagine that being the easiest choice - until you're in it, you just don't know how you'll react. I stopped going out, I gave up my hobbies, whilst in college I gave up my part time job - he controlled every single part of my life. And if I even let my "everything is rosey' mask slip even for a second, especially in front of my Mam, well it just doesn't bear thinking about. Fortunately for me, once Mam did find out, he was gone out of my life within 30 mins. Unfortunately, he went on to groom and abuse others after that. He was convicted, and is currently serving his prison sentence - but the fear of him stilll remains.

I was conditioned to think catcalling was a compliment, that if someone held your waist a little too long at work it was just cause "ahh they're just a bit touchy", that it's easier to just "go with it" than to say no and risk their response. It took me years to identify that no matter the degree of your experiences it still is never ok. We often get told sexual violence is one way but it isn't, it comes in many forms and sometimes you can't identify it at first - and that's ok. I am only recently coming to terms with the varying degrees of experiences I've had. I didn't want to say anything because I was made to believe I'd "rock the boat". Well some boats are meant to sink. Let's rebuild the boat so everyone can stay afloat, included and safe.

Daring Greatly I sit staring out into the vastness of the ocean. The waves look particularly angry today as they crash aggressively onto the rocks along the shore. Even here, on this tiny island in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, the water seems to mirror how I feel internally. On this particular day, I’m wondering if I’ll ever feel like my life hasn’t been defined by that night. The night that everything changed. My life is split into the before and the after. I’ve always felt connected to the sea. It has been my safe place. The place I go when my thoughts feel overwhelming and all consuming. That night could only be described as a tsunami-like tidal wave that changed everything. It changed me and it left me broken. Broken but not irreparably so. The ebb and flow of grief has stayed with me since that night. I have grieved the person I was and the many versions of the life I never got to lead because of that night. Because of them. Because of you. The relationships lost, the paths not taken, the doors that were left unopened as I found my footing on this new path. Even now, there are days where I feel unsure about this path I’m on. As a naturally stubborn individual, being forced onto this path goes against absolutely everything that feels normal to me. Most of the time, I feel like I live in a dual existence of sorts. Pretending to be happy around those who have no idea on the days where it feels like I’m drowning. Keeping my walls up around me like armour, so that only a select few know the extent of how that night has infiltrated every crevice of my being; how it still lives in my head every single day. If something is broken, my natural instinct is to try, in whatever way I can, to fix it. This has been no different. The very first time I learned about trauma and how it has the ability to change your brain, I wanted to know everything. Learn everything. Educate myself; in my never ending quest to fix this. To fix me. Suddenly my world made sense again. The shame I felt. The darkness. An incredible woman I have been lucky enough to work with on this journey once told me that the cure for trauma is connection. It brings the shame out into the light. That changed me in ways she’ll never fully know. It allowed me to realise this is not my fault. I am not to blame. It’s ok to let some people in. Although fear has kept that circle small, I have let them in. I have let them see me on my very worst days. I have let them see me broken and let down by the justice system. I have let them see me drowning in grief instead of pretending. I have let them see all of me. I am not perfect. I act out and self-isolate and from time to time attempt to self-destruct. I am angry. I am grieving and some days I’m really sad. But I am healing. I have survived every single day I didn’t think I would when the shame and darkness felt all consuming. I am strong. I am resilient. I am a survivor. I am eternally grateful for my circle who allows me to be my sad but strong, grieving but resilient, still slightly broken self. For those who give me the time and space to bring the trauma out into the light. Every time you allow me that grace, you help a part of me to heal a little more. This journey is the loneliest, most isolating one I have ever taken. One none of us ever choose to take yet we find ourselves here. Learning to walk on a path we didn’t choose. I have often wondered if there will ever be a day when that night is no longer something I think of every single day. There are days I still feel lost. But I have learned that healing isn’t about finding a way back to the person I was before. She doesn’t exist anymore. And maybe that’s okay. Because I am becoming someone else. Someone who can carry grief without letting it carry her. Someone who can be angry but still gentle. Someone who can be broken yet still whole. I didn’t choose this road. I never would have. But I am here. Daring Greatly. And I am going to be okay.

date my own boyfriend done it to me many times , I would sleep over at his gaf and he would always make me tea from “his culture “ but hmm lookin back I would knock out right after and I had never done anything sexual before , when I was waking up in pain , bleeding , i thought there was something wrong with me and I would always be confused . Lookin back I knew what he was doing in the back of my head but I was In denial I felt bad for assuming that was happing “he doesn’t give off rapey vibes “ thats what I would think little did I know . dateof being with him he did get very mentally and phsysically abusive but things were bad at home and I thought his house was better bc “I could actually sleep “ BUT I DIDNT KNOW I WAS ONY SLEEPING BC I WAS GETTING DRUGGED . The story use to make me soooo mad but looking back i cant judge the past with what I know now . Anyways so one day in date I have some “tea” and I pass out on his couch and I wake up to him molesting me and starting to do stuff to me while I was passed out and I start freaking out and I low-key cant rember anything after that I just rember the next day i woke up in his bed he was rushing me to get ready and I was so confused and was like ??? Huh Ajd i didnt know how to process what had happened lastnight and I can’t txt my mam bc she didn’t even know where I was she didn’t know I was seeing this fella she thought I was at a friends and I thought she’d be more mad at me lyin than me gettibg raped and finally realising whag was happening , he lived in the middle of nowhere his hoise was gated no one lived there i got in the car hoping HED bring me home like he usally does but nope i was in that car he drove me for over 4 hours to theplace no stops , he took my phone , and yea I was stuck in the placewoth his , he drove to sn underground parking lot,no people , we went in an elevator , got out on theplace and I was locked in a place(no idea how he could even stay here and how he booked it ) anyways that was the worst week of my life i was gettin raped over and over again , drugged ,physically abused , for a week staright I felt like I was going insaneeee but it was weird like I was on survival mode and I tried to escape and I remeber vividly I was drugged , undone the locks , but I was fighting the drug and I got to an elevator and I was pressing the button over and over and he obviously caught up i rember backing up into a corner of the elevator and bro dead ahhh grabbed my ancle and I rember feelin ny head hit smthin bc I got pulled wi sn force abd i woke up like 24 hourssssss later the next day in bed , sooooo yea then I can’t even REMEBER how but I convince him 3 days later that I love him and I don’t mind him VIOLATING MY BODY and I would “stay wi him forever I loved him “ but yall I just wanted to get home I missed my dog , for once things at home seemed way better , I was greatful all it was I had to deal with at home were my parents arguing at night and I couldn’t sleep , yk a lot better than this shit so yea ended up getting home , still to this day my parents and family have no idea this happened , I blocked my horrible ex on everything hes gone from my life thank god , this is the first time im telling the whole story not even my councillor knows all this , but yea thats the summary , after I came back I didn’t know what to do , my friend forced me to go satu , they helped , mentally struggled for a longgggg time YHIS wss a rough journey but finally i can say it wasnt my fault screw him and no one deserves something like this to happen to them .

Stuck in the bathroom. It is possible to be loved. When I spent ages telling my Mum and Dad that it would be ok to travel to city for a gig , I thought I was grown up and street wise. In reality I was a naive young man - my parents reluctantly agreed as long as we stayed with my friends uncle - this would mean we wouldn’t have to travel back late . The gig was fantastic - we got back to his flat the others went to bed. I stayed up chatting with name - after about half an hour he started asking me if I was a virgin and showing me pornographic magazines . I tried to get away and go to bed - he then attacked me and raped me . I locked myself in the bathroom and waited but he was still agitated - he wanted me to sleep in his bed - I had no idea that a man could do what he did to another male. Two weeks later I went back to stay again after a football match - this time I tried to persuade my parents that I shouldn’t go - but they didn’t want the ticket to go to waste - he attacked and raped me again - I eventually managed to lock myself in the bathroom . I mentally stayed in that bathroom for the next 40 years - never telling - never asking for support - 3 failed marriages - problems with drink - difficulties being a good parent. The first person I told after 40 years was my ex-wife - her response was “I can’t love you - you have violated me by keeping this a secret” - this was crushing and led to a decline to a very dark place. Now with the support of my children, my new partner , a fantastic psychiatrist and a therapist from support organisation - I feel better and believe I can be loved. It is never too late to start to heal .