I am a survivor of extremely severe ritualistic childhood abuse and sadistic systematic torture. This blog has helped me get my voice back and documents the journey I'm on to heal from the trauma and damage caused by that appalling abuse. Now is the time for me to tell of MY experience by speaking the truth about MY life. I will be silenced no more! On this blog I share MY life, MY healing journey; helpful quotes/stuff I come across and MY thoughts along the way. The more I speak out the more liberated I am from the shame and trauma of the abuse. My broken wings are gradually being repaired. Without God in my life I wouldn't still be here. But somehow, I keep on staying alive, surviving and rarely, occasionally, living a little!

Friday, 28 October 2011


What follows is an excerpt from my latest guest post on the Emerging from Broken Blog called “You’re Nothing But Trouble.”

“I never knew when they’d decide I “deserved” a beating, or I “deserved” to be thrown across the room or I “deserved” to be starved or I “deserved” locked in my room or I “deserved” whatever they chose. It was very oppressive. I asked myself many times “what it is about me that is so horrible, that makes me so bad that it doesn’t matter what I do or say, it’s always bad and deserves punishment?” The abuse was “all about me” because my abusers made it all about me. I was taught grown-ups were always right. There was no-one to tell me otherwise. I had no way of knowing anything else.
I remember being called in from the garden because “grandpa wanted to play with me”. “Play” was a pseudonym for sexual abuse. I didn’t want to “play”. I wanted to stay in the garden chasing butterflies and hunting for ladybirds. I was 3 the first time I remember this. I was called into the house by my mother. My mother set me up to be abused so it couldn’t have been wrong then? I went into the room where my grandparents and mother were. There were two paedophile friends in the room with them. There were 5 grownups in that room – my grandparents, mother and two paedophile friends of the family. None of those 5 grownups saw anything being wrong. Instead the impression was what was happening was ‘normal’, nothing was wrong, except for me, everything about me was “wrong” or so I was told often enough. So if I was surrounded by grownups who all thought nothing was wrong then I must be wrong to think it’s wrong. I knew it was wrong in my gut. It felt all wrong and I didn’t like it at all. I seemed to be the only person to think and feel that so I must be wrong. But I knew I was right and it all felt wrong, very wrong!”


Anonymous said...

Thank you for sharing this. It sounds much like my experience with my mother and grandmothers. Mother told me I was wrong and it stuck in my head so much until I thought my very existence was wrong...God in His mercy has taught me so much different. I still have flashes of the horror they done to me, just one the other night...Like you I knew deep down even under thinking my very existence was wrong, that I was meant to be and someone loves me. That someone, I know now is The Creator God...Thank you once again. And I thank you for your bravery. May you continue to heal and enjoy the good life that is purpose for you..Sending all my love...RiRi

Princess Fi said...

Hi RiRi

Thanks for your comfort. So glad it resonated with you. I wish you well in your healing and every blessing from God too, without whom healing would be impossible and without whom there would be no hope. He is my hope, my strength and the one who enables me to keep going somehow. Many thanks again for your gentle, compassionate and helpful comment!