When I began my own journey in healing from childhood sexual abuse, I’d often find myself lost in pain, confusion and dissociation. Those moments when nothing seemed to calm me, I’d sit underneath the trees outside my home and breathe. I don’t know how but the pain softened. Moment by moment, day by day, tree by tree.

This blog is a way to share the peace I found and to show my gratitude for the people who came to sit by me when everything seemed hopeless. This blog is a my gesture of solidarity with you.

  • I write this blog from the “I.”

As much as it hurts my heart to know that anyone else has suffered sexual violence, I know that childhood sexual abuse is common. My experience is my own and I write about it recognising that your experiences will differ. I can only speak for me. I don’t have the answers.

Every person is welcome here. I do not believe that suffering can be quantified and compared. I think the world is too eager to dictate how ‘victims’ ought to look/feel/speak. Labels don’t matter here. If you find something of value here, I am glad. If you need something different, my links page lists all the resources I know to be helpful. I am not a medical professional and I write as a peer who suffers mental ill health, I encourage you to find a professional that you trust.

  • I write from wholehearted honesty.

The poisonous aspect of sexual abuse was that it operated upon silence. That I couldn’t speak up and that I felt ashamed kept me isolated for most of my life. For me, healing came when I could be honest. I’m honest here. No one gains anything from pretending that healing comes easily or that it is straightforward.

Sexual abuse is harrowing. I believe that there is strength in rejecting clichés and being unafraid to express the dark bits because hope is bigger than any of the despair. Hope can withstand the harrowing pain.

  • I write with compassionate mindfulness.

It took me years to sort out the truths and the lies, to accept what had happened to me and how I felt. When I started out in therapy, I retriggered myself by reading stories that were too graphic. I think I wanted validation. I was terrified that if I trusted myself, I’d fall apart. Reading others peoples stories blocked out the terror of remembering. Perhaps I was also being unkind to my most vulnerable self. I certainly wished I could toughen up.

I will write honestly but this blog will not contain graphic accounts of the abuse I endured. I see this as protecting myself from sharing too much and protecting you. This blog is a place to get nourishment rather than to be disturbed. I share what keeps me alive and gives my hope. I look to the stars. Please feel free to keep yourself safe in the ways you need to while you read.

I believe in hope.

I believe in truth.

I believe in compassion.

I know that whatever you have lived through and however you arrived, there is a place under the stars for you. I’m right here with you.