My Story
Triggered by and alongside Australia’s ‘year of reckoning’, I have spent the past twelve months facing my previously unrecognised history of sexual assault and childhood sexual abuse. To say that this has been difficult would be like saying Port Hedland gets ‘a little warm’ in the summer or sunsets in Perth are ‘alright’: a understatement to say the least.
To mark one year since the March 4 Justice on 15 March, I’m sharing some of the poems that I've written over the past year. I’ve collected these from the cages of my numerous journals, books and emails, and I’m giving them little wings to fly out into the world. It might be that no one reads them and that’s OK.
Or it might be that someone, somewhere reads one, and takes comfort knowing that someone else has seen dark days and made it through. Or another someone might have a conversation with a young person about boundaries and consent. Or someone else, maybe you, donates to Blue Knot Foundation – an organisation that supports people who are affected by complex trauma.
My path is still rocky at times, but I’m feeling better equipped for the journey.
For the survivors…
may we find the strength and the knowledge
to forgive ourselves for the crimes that we did not commit
For the helpers…
for shining beams of light into the darkness
For Tania, my beach angel…
for being there when it was needed most
About Me
The urge to apologise for these poems is strong.
I am Canadian-born after all, and let’s face it, they are at times dark and the content highly distressing. My first instinct is to feel guilty for inflicting them on anyone. But I will resist the urge to say sorry. As I will resist the urge to hide them away. The shame was never mine, and I place it back where it belongs: with the perpetrators.
The past twelve months have been like no other in my life. As I followed the nation’s ‘reckoning’ with sexual abuse and sexual assault through many stories including those of Kate (of the Christian Porter dossier), Grace Tame, and Brittany Higgins, the world as I then knew it began to fall apart.
During this time, it became impossible to deny elements of my past that I thought I’d forever buried away – namely I’d been sexually abused as a small child. Then, as tragically is often the case for those whose personal boundaries are violated in childhood, I was raped on two separate occasions as a teenager.
Attending the March 4 Justice in Perth, March 2021, with my daughter was an awe-inspiring experience. There was a pain bred of collective trauma, but also palpable feelings of power and anger, and a will for change.
This also marked the point of no return in many ways, as my mental health deteriorated.
It was both heart-wrenching and validating to tell my family that I’d been sexually abused for more than three years, from the age of four, by a non-family member. Not for one instant has my family doubted me, and they have been a huge support as I’ve reported what happened to the Royal Canadian Mounted Police (RCMP).
I am also thankful for the team of mental health professionals that I’ve worked with this year. I would not be here without their compassion, expertise and sense of humour.
I live in Perth, Western Australia with my husband, two children, and small collection of furry friends.