MY
STORY|
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My daughter was nine years old when she told my partner that her uncle was sexually abusing her. When I was told, by my partner, I didn't really take it in. I will say at this point that I totally believed her. There was no doubt in my mind that she was telling the truth but I didn't know what to do about it. It was like, for the first time in my life, I had to go down a path I new nothing about. Where would I start? I had to think. I look back now and I can't remember what I said to my daughter that night or for the next few nights.
The next day I knew I had to tell
my sister that her husband was sexually abusing my daughter. I remember
at the time my daughter asking me not to tell anyone. I realise now that
all she wanted was for him to stop and that she didn't want to hurt anyone
or have to stop seeing him, because she loved him. Its hard for me to
think about the love she had / has for him, but when a child is sexually
abused, it's not only their bodies that are abused. They are mentally
abused also.
I had do something so that my daughter was safe from being harmed by him
physically anymore. I could protect her because now I was aware of the
abuse, but my sister had three children younger than my daughter and anyway,
I thought we as family would work together to keep our children safe.
I was so ignorant. I thought my family would stick together. We were strong.
How wrong I was.
I thought that if my sister loved this man so much and wanted to help
him rather than have him leave, I would have helped her and him. I don't
know how this would have happened. I think I thought that he would tell
the truth and we would all go down the same path of recovery. I believe
my sister believed me because her reaction was an angry one. She threw
him out of the house that same night. I went to visit my mother the next
day, who lives just two doors away from my sister, (she was there the
day I told my sister of the abuse). I knew my sister was at work so I
was expecting to see her children with my mother, so when I walked in
and the children wasn't there, I asked where they were…. they were
at home with the abuser. I suppose that's when the nightmare truly began
and from that day on we were alone to fight the battle, one which started
twelve years ago.
People don't want to believe this
kind of abuse is happening and that's exactly what they did. They decided
not to believe my daughter. Originally they were outraged but my parents
and my sister, along with other family had a holiday in Florida booked.
That was a long time saving and they certainly did not need this little
inconvenience! I am not saying this is the sole factor behind their decision
because I am sure they had weighed up the advantages and disadvantages
of any decision they made. My daughter lost! My daughter was the apple
of my parent's eye. I was a single parent at eighteen, so we lived at
my parents house for the first year of her life. She could do no wrong
and they loved her so much that I used to get embarrassed because there
were many grandchildren and, if I could see clearly how they favoured
my daughter, then my brothers and sisters could. I have two brothers and
four sisters they, including my parents, cut me out of their lives ten
years ago, although one brother used to send me the odd email until I
mentioned the abuse, then they stopped!(amended 13/12/01)
You see, they couldn't allow me in their lives because I couldn't be manipulated
into brushing it under the carpet. I was a constant reminder of the dirty
secrets they held and it was better I didn't come around anymore so that
they didn't have to deal with it. My daughter was so confused. She blamed
me for the hostile treatment she was getting and that I'd upset every
one. You see all see wanted was for every thing to stay the same but for
the abuse to stop.
The day I found my sisters kids at home alone with my daughters abuser, I realised my sister wasn't going to protect her children. Why would he stop at mine? Because she had sought reassurances from him? Today after so many years of trying to comprehend her actions, I realise she may think that that was just one off, a warning, and he would not be doing it again. She may believe he would not do that but she just doesn't understand nor does she want to. Ignorance is bliss. Isn't that what they say?
I called my sister at work and
told her I need to call some one professional to help, as we didn't understand
enough about this to do enough. She actually agreed with me and I thanked
her for helping me make that decision. He was taken to the police station,
of course he denied it and was let out. Investigative action meant he
couldn't go home because of his own children. So that he could go home
and sort things out with my sister, I had to have all of her three children
stay with me. .
I was asked that my daughter to do a video interview. This means that
when it went to court she wouldn't have to go as they could use the video.
At the time I thought it was the hardest thing I had to do, to watch my
nine year old try explaining how the abuse happened. It was harrowing.
"He touched me down there," she said. I could have ran into
the room, picked my baby up and ran with her as fast as could but I thought
I would let the professionals do their work as they know how to deal with
this. I was so wrong! Three weeks later I found out that the abuser was
back living at home. I telephoned my sister and it was then she told me
that it wasn't going any further as they didn't have enough evidence.
The police, social services hadn't even bothered to tell ME!
My daughter's life was going to be totally different from that day on. I tried so hard for her life not change too much, to have some normality, but it did. I thought that as my parents were aware of what had happened, they would also protect and support my daughter. Perhaps they would help me to do the best for my daughter. Wrong! I was in a position where I couldn't go visit my parents, as they would constantly tell me how they were spending so much time with my daughter's abuser. I can't count how many times I shouted and cried at them, so eventually I stopped going to see them. I thought that in my absence they would hear my silent protest again I was wrong. All I did was allow them to play a pretend game of, "This didn't really happen." My daughter came home from my parent's house one day saying she wanted to go out for the day with her grandparents and every body else. I telephoned my father the next day from work to ask him who was going and wouldn't it have been better to ask me first before mentioning it to my daughter. He was so rude to me and he said some terrible things to me. Of course! My daughter's abuser was going to be there. I had to be the one to tell my daughter she couldn't go and she hated me for it. I had no control over what was going on when my daughter was visiting her grandparents and felt helpless to stop it,(they only lived a few streets away and my daughters abuser lived two doors away from them). How could I stop her from seeing them? I felt she was constantly being punished for something she hadn't done. My daughter became some one I didn't know. She began to lie to me. I could feel she hated me. We grew further and further apart until I didn't trust her anymore. I didn't know what was happening to her, but of course I know now that they had brainwashed her into thinking it was just a dream and that I did not really love her and I was jealous of their relationship. Are these really my parents? What sort of grandparents come between mother and child with venom and hatred?
She needed to feel a part of
the whole and, of course, she felt that she didn't have that with me.
I understood her need to be part of all of them. Her behaviour got worse
and worse towards us. She spent most of her time in her room when she
was at home. I realised that she wasn't happy at home and that she didn't
want to do anything I wanted her to do. My daughter started putting on
weight, so I used to pack only healthy things in her lunch box only to
find out later that she would dump the lunch I made her and go pick up
the lunch my mother had made her. That's just little of what I was up
against. If I said something was good my parents said that is was bad
and she wanted to believe them not me. My daughter then made contact with
her father with out my knowing. (She had never really known her father).
I knew nothing of what was going on in my daughters life, nothing. This
all started from the age of ten and at fifteen she told me she wanted
to go see her Dad. I was heart broken but at that time I couldn't trust
the fact that he, also, wouldn't turn her against me. I did the most hardest
thing any mother could do; I made plans for her to go stay with him. She
moved in with him and a little time after that I thought I'd made a big
mistake. She had always brought home A& B's from school exams but
it wasn't long before the school was trying to suspend her.(I knew nothing
of this until long after she had left school) We couldn't even talk anymore
she looked at me with contempt. I couldn't cope and after I tried to force
her to come home once, there was a big fight. I stopped trying to be her
Mum. We didn't speak for some time, but then I decided that I should try
to be some one in her life and after a while her father and my parents
weren't so great in her eyes after all. I thought it was the right time
to rebuild my relationship with my daughter. She had got her self a little
job, (after leaving school with no qualifications!) At first we would
meet up and go for walks, sit & chat over a coffee, then one day I
received a phone call from her father, he couldn't cope. After some time
trying to talk to her she told me how disappointed she was with living
with her dad. The day came when her dad phoned me and asked me what he
should do. I told him to throw her out if he couldn't cope anymore. (
I was thinking that she would then come home). He threw her out but she
didn't come to me she went to my parents. My parents wanted me to take
her back home, as they couldn't cope with her attitude. To me it was them
who had helped make her the person she was then! She started laying down
the law, saying that she would come home if I allowed her to do this or
that. I couldn't go through that again. Her way and my parent's way wasn't
the way I thought children should be taught about life. So again I had
to do the hardest thing and say no. She again didn't want any contact
with me but I kept at it because I wanted to show her love wasn't about
material things and should be unconditional. The way I broke through was
to start giving her lifts to work and picking her up. She worked in a
place that was very hard to get public transport so by giving her a lift
I gained precious time alone with my daughter. She was still some one
I didn't really know but I knew my baby was in there somewhere. Eventually
she got flat of her own and we helped her decorate and I could go visit
her when I wanted. This went on for about a year and I helped her go back
to college and do her part time job, but eventually like any teenager
she couldn't do both because there was no time to party so college had
to go! A year later due to ill health she couldn't keep her flat as she
had to keep having time off, my parents wouldn't have her back living
with them and she didn't want to go live with her father. She said she
would come home only if she could live the way she had been living in
her flat (as if she was doing me the favour!) I couldn't agree to her
demands so she refused to come home. My mother phoned me, (we hadn't spoke
for nine years) and said she couldn't have her there and she didn't know
what to do. I told my mother to tell my daughter that, and she did. My
daughter had no real choice at the time, so she came home. I was so happy
as now she couldn't blame me and I was the one who was standing by her
in her need to belong somewhere. It was a risk I had to take and it paid
off, she came home.
Over the years, before she came home, I had to bite my lip when she would
tell me things about her life. I could see that the things that were happening
were because of the abuse she had suffered and that she was still being
mentally abused by my parents. I would feel so bad when some times I had
to say, "Perhaps you feel that way because of the abuse." She
would tell me that had nothing to do with it and was, "over that,"
but I knew she wasn't. I never new if I was doing the right thing, all
I did know was that if my daughter was in denial of it ever happening,
how could she possibly heal?
After some time of her being home things started to change, she started
talking about the abuse but not so much the sexual abuse but about the
way she had tried to talk to my parents about it. Then my second worse
nightmare come about; she had for years tried to tell them about it when
she had lived there but they wouldn't listen. She would become angry and
my father would shout and scream at her to shut up, whilst my mother would
physically put her hand over her mouth and try to push her out of the
door. Sometimes my daughter would be standing at the window pleading with
them but they wouldn't allow her to come back in until she agreed not
to talk about it. All she needed was for them to believe her; her need
to be believed by "these people" was so strong. I believe that
my daughter had witnessed me being cut off from the family and didn't
want this to happen to her, after all, she loved them and they had been
in her life since the day she was born. In her eyes, why would she not
want to be around them? She needed them so much; so much so she would
sacrifice her own way of thinking to be part of them. My daughter knew
they were wrong but that didn't matter she loved them.
My daughter is now on her way
to healing but has a very long way to go. We talk all the time but most
importantly I trust her and she trusts me. We are mother and daughter
again. She hurts so much sometimes when she realises all things my parents
and the rest of my family have done to her, but life goes on and every
day we deal with it, instead of making out it doesn't exist. She is now
twenty this year and has told me recently that the sexual abuse started
when she was SIX and only stopped when she told us at the age of NINE.
Some things are so painful that we can't face up to them but take it from
me, they never go away and the quicker we deal with them quicker we start
to heal.
Never give up, there are so many things we don't understand but reading
some of the many books that are available to help us gain some strength
and help our loved ones heal and, heal they must. I would like to say
one more thing and that is that we, as mothers, don't know all the answers
but we only do things we do out of love for our children. If some times
we do things wrong we can only hope one day our children will understand
and forgive us.
Don't torture your self with, " I should have done
this," or, " I should have done that," there is only one
person at fault and that is the abuser.
