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Well my mum went out with a few guys after my dad, which is understandable.

My step dad was Scottish and an ex-alcholic. He would taunt me and try and push my buttons, said he was preparing me for the real world.

I get that now, not because that is how the real world is but the world he must of lived in and been used to.

He was married to my mum about 4 years but sometimes he would grab me and push me against the wall. One time I flipped and picked him up and threw him to the floor. Needless to say he was shocked because I’d never fought back before that.

We never really got on. I remember another time when I was on the computer (can’t remember what I was doing, I was 14 at the time and it was dial up internet) he thought it would be funny to turn it off. So I reacted poorly to that and stuck a middle finger up at him. He got very angry at that and launched a cup which just missed me and smashed against the wall. Memories came flooding back about my dad and I realised I needed out.

If he made my mum happy, she deserved it so I ended up moving into my nans and they actually moved to Wales.

As you can imagine father images I have always struggled to get in with and people with good fathers I used to be jealous of.

These days I take people as they are and don’t judge them by who or what they are but how they treat me, works far better than condemning every dad out there.

I hope one day I can have kids who I can give all the love and support and didn’t get.

So I found being here really helped me at first. I mean it felt like I had a place I fit in. I would go in on Sundays and would go to Sunday school. I even started helping out with something called kids klub and would help the adults with music etc.

While I was there I met this man called Bill, he ended up being like a father image to me. Little did I realise were this was leading to. He would bring me sweets every Sunday. He was basically grooming me, I can see that now.

Sometimes I would stay at Bill’s, he and my mother got on well aswell. My mum said she told him what my dad had done and called him so many names under the sun.

One time I went with Bill to a party at his families. Where he got me drunk and I don’t remember very much, we went back to his as I was spending the night there. I hit the couch and fell asleep, I woke up and Bill was doing things to me. I tried to stop him but pretty sure I just passed out again. When I next woke up Bill was outside front of his house coughing.

I waited till I heard him go upstairs and I darted for my push bike (that I sometimes cycled to church) cycled home very drunk and very upset at what had happened. I got home and told my mum and step-dad at the time (that’s another story in itself though) everything he did.

We went to the police and the vicar about it. The vicar asked.me if maybe I could of dreamed the whole thing (my face after he said that was a picture) I told him that I did not dream it and know what had happened.

What I took away from this then was is there something wrong with me that I attract this to me. What I realise now is I was preyed upon and fell for it hook line and sinker.

The most important thing though is I survived but it also ingrained in me that you have to becareful with who you trust and what you trust them with.

So after my first traumatic and as you can imagine, severely damaging and long experience. I struggled alot.

My saving grace was the fact my Dad was manic depressive and he told my mum everything. Whether it was out of guilt or because maybe he actually felt some feelings of some form I will never know.

This is were I learnt alot about my dad. That he had cheated on my mum many times, seen prostitutes and other men. He blamed it all on the sexual abuse he went through as a child in boarding school (no excuse). My mum had forgiven him again and again but what he had done this time was unforgiveable, she went to the police thankfully. I think and feel for the kids who didn’t have a strong Mother like I did, even if I didn’t see that then I do now.

My brother and I both had to do video evidence for his court case and be medically examined, to which I can say was a very scary time for a child to do.

After all this and after my dad had gone to jail we both went to therapy, in all honesty though I feel like the therapist just wanted to say how we should feel. He had us throwing cushions out the window pretending they were my dad.

I can tell you now it didn’t help and I struggled to fit in when moving to a secondary school, to the point I point blanked refuse to go and would hold the car seat or radiator in my bedroom and refuse to move. I was lost and in pain and had no one to talk to about it.

I ended up going to my mums church (she has always been a christian) to a degree I think it helped I mean I felt like I fit in and could help but then…

To be continued…

I suppose I should start there so you can get a better understanding of this blog. Minus the graphic detail that will send shivers and chills down your spine. (If you get triggered by this or can easily be triggered I protest you don’t read it.

So it all started when I was about 8, or at least that is the earliest I remember.

My dad used to jump on me and my brother till we couldn’t breathe, lock us in car boot and drive around. I remember every time my mum used to go out we would run and lock ourselves in the bathroom. Living in fear is not the way to live or for a child to develop.

One time when I was 11 I walked in on my dad sexually abusing my brother (as I now know it to be called) while having pornographic material on show for my brother. My brother was 10 at the time. My dad immediately chased after me and blackmailed me into not telling my mother by saying we would end up in Foster care and never see my mum again. Needless to say I was naive enough to fall for that at that age.

Looking back into my childhood I can see why I thought I was so damaged and held onto so much guilt for many years.

This was just one of the first things I went through that made me feel broken, useless and guilty.

I suppose the thing I take away from this now is that I survived and I live a much better life than I did for the first 21 years+ of mine.

If you have or do manage to read this. Know that you can survive aswell.

Child abuse isn’t just about black eyes. While physical abuse is shocking due to the marks it leaves, not all signs of child abuse are as obvious. Ignoring a child’s needs, putting them in unsupervised, dangerous situations, exposing them to sexual situations, or making them feel worthless or stupid are also forms of child abuse […]

Child Abuse and Neglect