yesterday i had a conversation. 


that conversation confirmed what i knew to be true.



there aren’t too many people that i either love or trust. & am im fine with that now. i no longer buy into the theory that i need to love & light on everybody & that im somehow missing out because i dont trust.

trust is earned. its not a right. its also not a commodity. it also means that if i dont ‘trust’ you per se, that i won’t not fuck with you. we can have an exchange for whatever purposes, that dont require me to completely trust, or love you, for that matter.


so, this conversation centred around someone i love, some i trust. 


it turns out their narrative for me is a lot different when they talk to someone else.

i had suspected as much but like i said, i can still fuck with someone and not trust them completely.


turns out their narrative however, pretty much discounted my experience of child sexual assault by …

  1. amplifying those involved on the peripherals
  2. stating that they weren’t there so they dont know
  3. that because they are male they also dont know because that sort of thing cant happen to them
  4. disregarding / discounting the source of the information – me
  5. quoting the adage of leaving the past in the past.

im still processing.

i think im hurt.

maybe more disappointed.

but not unrealistically so, i think i was just hopeful.

deep realisation that they probably will never get it and dont want to.

that ‘the feeling’ of not being welcome or accepted or believed, is alive and fucken well.

today it hurts.

over the last week ive known there was something coming .. a change, a shift. that the narrative of the family of origin had written for me, actually benefited them, not me. for them to hear me would require they do some work on themselves. deep work.

instead they are rolling with the playwright that says our family were hard working good folks who paid their dues and thats it.

nowhere in there is there accountability mentioned for the pedo fuck or the myriad of twisted ways he fucked me up. neither is there any mention of the myriad of ingenious ways i survived & spent countless years undoing his fuckery so my kids would never have to experience that kind of indignity.

with the voiceover of a few empty words, they discounted the trauma & violation, the survival & management, the growth & enlightenment. 


i’ll sit with it.

but it won’t consume me.

its done that for too many years.



4 thoughts on “reckonings

  1. It’s so invalidating (not sure if that is a word or not) to have someone talk like that about your experience. f they don’t believe or even try to understand, they don’t have to look at their part in that and feel the reality of it. My family don’t believe the little I have told either. They have never asked any questions or shown any belief at all. I am following your lead and not letting it consume me.

    • oh wow .. as crap as it is, thats kind of reassuring to know .. weirdly. that its not just a thing with ‘me’ per se.
      ive heard other family stories where they’ve talked about members minimising it or generally trying to make them feel like it wasnt so bad, and while thats my experience also, along time ago, its been kinda demoralising knowing that even though they can ‘see’ the effects, they cant support or even listen to my experiences. even if it means that we could heal x

        • fuck yes.
          and thats the road im on now.
          taken a while to figure out accountability and where it all fits in the scheme of things. my kids are figuring that out for themselves to, cos for them its different. they have kids, they have different lives to lead .. .and dare i say it .. they have my blood. they want answers. they want results. they want to know how that could happen to their mama xxxx
          but .. they also get that im done.
          i love them for that x

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