This is Fiona calling, the daughter that you disowned
I’ve got a few questions to ask you, not out of spite but
To try to make sense of you, me, all of us, what happened
You’re not going to like the questions I’m about to ask
But I have just got to ask them, I don’t mean to hurt you
I just want to, no, need to, ask because I am hurting
And confused and trying to pick up the myriad of pieces
Of my life, put them together, so I can heal and move on
You know you always said I wasn’t wanted and was an accident
Then why did you go full term with the pregnancy huh?
I’m sorry I wasn’t up to expectations, but I didn’t have any say
About whether I turned out to be a boy or a girl
I reckon all that time in the sick baby unit, us separated
Had an awful lot to do with the fact we never bonded
But it isn’t just that we didn’t bond, it’s more than that
You seemed to hate me, resent me, right from the beginning
Why were you so consistently violent towards me, your child?
Why did you constantly criticise me and undermine me?
Why could you never compliment me or encourage me?
Why did you constantly tell me I’d never do, be, or achieve anything?
Do you realise you never allowed me to get a sense of self worth?
Why were you never gentle with me? You were so rough and hard
I couldn’t ever do or say or be anything to please you
How could you lie in bed in the next room hearing and ignoring
My screams and crying every night as dad raped me, oh and the rest?
And then that Christmas when you did intervene, why oh why
Did you side with dad and blame me? You just didn’t realise or
Seem to understand that I didn’t ask for it, go looking for it
I had no control over all those things which dad did to me
I was only a child, nine years old when he first raped me
And nearly twelve when you stopped it, not even into my teens, and then
For the next eight years you tortured me till you beat me up and kicked me out
Every time something happened it was always my fault and I’d get a beating
Those kangaroo courts you held, where you were both judge and jury
And me standing in the middle of the room terrified and exposed
You sat on the end of the sofa by the wall, dad on the side chair, and Stu sent
Upstairs because ‘what was about to happen was too distressing for him to witness’
Yes your words; I was always guilty, I had no say in my defence, none to speak for me
And the punishment always the same too, need I remind you? So humiliating
To be stripped and have to stand there while you laughed and laughed
Then you sat and watched my humiliation, laughing as you told dad
Where and how hard to hit me, and what to use to hit me with
It was never hard enough, but was always harder, harder, oh
The humiliation you put me through, you know I always felt
That you were punishing me for what happened between me and dad
It wasn’t just the humiliation, but the pain of those deliberate hits
Yet not once was I allowed to cry out or to ask you to stop . . and if I did
You just made it far far worse for me, it was planned, systematic
How could you be so cruel to your own flesh and blood?
How could you be so inhuman and uncaring for your own child?
How could you go to church each week and be so pious and righteous
How could you go and tell all those lies to all who asked after my welfare?
How could you teach other kids and be nice to them, then be go home and be
Cruel to your own? How could you even pretend to call yourself a mother?
How could you be so interesting in covering your own tracks by humiliating me?
How could you abuse, violate, humiliate, beat up, torture and then disown me?
I am and have always been, in name, your child, your daughter
All I ever wanted, needed, was your love, your affirmation, your acceptance
But yet that love, affirmation and acceptance were the very things
That you seemed totally and completely unwilling to give me, your daughter
Why did you hate me so much? Was I really that much of a bother?
What happened to you to make you so unwilling to love, so hard, so cruel?
Why is it that you seem to have to control, and be in control of everyone
You come into contact with? Don’t you realise how destructive it is?
I am flesh of your flesh, we belong to each other you know, like it or not
I am your daughter, your child, I do exist, contrary to your words when
You kicked me out. All I ever needed was your love, affirmation and support
All I ever needed was to belong, but you rejected me, but yet at the same time
That you were incapable of those things, you were very very capable of
Cruelty, violence, humiliation, blame shifting, scape goating, and the rest
It’s too much to ask of you to love me now, too much has passed between us
But I sure would be grateful for some answers one day, if that’s not too much to ask
14th April 1998