Your stories...

We're here to give you a voice.

If you are a victim or survivor of childhood sexual abuse, you should know that you are not alone. Many people, children and adults alike, have suffered just like you. Here are some of their stories.

If you would like to contribute your story, we'd love to hear it.

...in your own words.

Hello.

First of all I would like to thank you from the bottom of my heart for giving me this opportunity to actually tell my story. A horrendous childhood but now content and nightmare free. I am a metis, born in 1962. My biological parents were both alcoholics and abusive, abusive in every form. I can not remember much up until I was 5 years old. I did however suffer from vivid nightmares and to this day cannot sleep without a light on or a sound in the background that lulls me to sleep.

The abuse I endured was from my own mother who eventually gave me up to the authorities. I was malnourished, visible signs of physical abuse and have proof that a doctor showed concern that I may be mentally challenged. I was hospitalized for a long time.....I remember the foster homes, I remember the cruelty of some but kindness of others. I remember being withdrawn, never smiling or laughing, I remember the numbness and the darkness.

I was eventually placed into a home of a middle aged couple (European) who foster parented me for many years. I was told I was abnormal, not very bright and extremely moody. My foster parents were strict but provided me with a good home until they decided to move back to Europe. Then I was adopted.........and hell returned once again in my life. Once in Europe (I was about 12 when we moved) life changed and I was once again a target for abuse, sexual abuse. My adopted father drank more, he too became an alcoholic. My adopted mother was a closet alcoholic. We were poor, a well instead of running water, an outhouse instead of a bathroom, we burned wood and sometimes garbage to keep warm.

My adopted father turned from being a kind gentle man to a monster who would lure me to the barn or hay shed and try to have me perform sexual acts on him. I remember his hands rubbing my private parts, I remember his mouth trying to pry my lips apart, I remember his horrible breath. I remember the bite from him when I tried so hard to keep his tongue from entering my mouth....I remember being only 12. I remember the nights I would put on layers of clothing so he would become frustrated and give up when he came into my room when my adopted mom was asleep. I remember the nights he would blackmail me into sharing his bed when my adopted mother was not home.....I would be sent back to Canada by the police because no one would want me.....I remember being only 12.

When I had enough of fighting his hands and mouth off of me I went to her, I told her everything. I was told I was a liar, I was slapped, I had a knife pulled on me by her, then I was told I asked for it and that I was a whore.....I was only 15. I ran away that night, I spent the night in the woods, frantic that he would chase me down, frightened that I would have to go back, but oddly enough I felt safe in the woods.

I married at 17 to leave home, to feel safe, to not fear the dark. I was divorced at 21...I was told I had issues, I was told I had no emotions, I was told I was a cold person. Once again I had to fight, but this fight was personal, I was fighting for custody of my then 4 year old daughter. I returned back to Canada in 1986 with my daughter, I struggled for many years with direction, I was lost for many years BUT I never turned to drugs or abused alcohol, instead I was permiscuous, the only way I knew how to show feelings or emotions was through sex, even though I hated it and meant nothing to me I continued to be permiscuous.

I remember the phone call I received from overseas..."your father died" I remember saying "uhummm", "thank you" then hanging up.....I had no emotions, I had no tears, I continued to work right after hanging up the phone. My adopted father hung himself because a parent of another young girl found out she had been molested by him....she was only 12. I am now 47, I have a beautiful well adapted daughter who is 29, and a wonderful, handsome, very respectful son who is 18. I am very very close to my children, I would die for them, I give them everything I never had.. I love them like there is no tomorrow.

I am working in the social work field, I help those who cannot help themselves, I advocate for them. I left out so much from my story, too much to put down. I wanted to hold our government accountable for sending me to those people, I tried many years ago to begin the process but had too many doors closed on me...... I am content now, I found my purpose in life, I have forgiven but will never be able to forget. once again.....thank you from the bottom of my heart. hugs to all.

jhanna47

This is not (only) my story - it is the story of countless children and their protective parents (usually mothers). Is it yet in the public consciousness that if, for example, a mother reports the sexual abuse of her child/children by a father that nothing will be done ? And if she continues to seek help and asks for a divorce, she will most likely lose custody and the wounded children will be sent to live with their abuser/rapist. Most mothers like this are just squashed. Of course the children are, and suffer the effects for a lifetime. Horrendous as it is, the revelations of clergy abused adult children may indicate how impossible it is to "tell". And to be protected.

Cold North Wind

My Husband's family are currently going through a very traumatic time for all of them. Thirty Three years ago his youngest sister, eleven at the time, was sexually abused by her brother-in-law. She was groomed for this man's depraved needs and the abuse continued until she was sixteen.

For years she believed she had an affair with this man as no force was used, just coercion through manipulation. As an adult she carries a lot of guilt still for this and for years decided she would never do anything about it legally in order to protect her sister and their family. However she tried to bring it into the open eight years ago because of a family feud regarding money.

The abuser very cunningly told his wife that he had an affair with her sister when she was sixteen. He had previously denied any wrongdoing for a long time. The victim told another member of their family at that time if anyone else ever came forward with allegations of sexual abuse by him, she would go to the Garda (Police in Ireland).

Eighteen months ago his daughter made a very serious attempt on her life. This was not the first attempt but certainly the most serious. She had been badly beaten by her father,the first time, she said, that he ever beat her in her life, in the presence of her mother.

This young woman, a mother of a young little boy had temporally left her husband and was residing with her Mom and Dad. Mother and daughter stories differ widely regarding that night. The daughter said she finally brought out that he had sexually abused her for years as a young child until she was sixteen. She said she screamed out details and each time he beat her to shut her up. Her account is that the following day (after coming out of Hospital) her Mother's main concern was if she was going to prosecute her Dad. Her Mom said that never happened and that also the marks that she had on her was where restraint was used to stop her from slashing her wrists with broken glass.

This young woman of thirty one has a history of lying. I say she fits the profile of an abused child. I believe her and everything she has told me. The older Aunt has, as she said she would, made a statement with the Police of her own abuse. He was subsequently arrested and brought in for questioning. He denied any wrongdoing and took himself and his wife off to France for the next two months. With tremenduous pressure from my Husband and myself, (I went to France to try and convince his wife of the truth) and an attempted suicide by him out in France he finally admitted to his wife the true facts regarding her sister's abuse, but continued to deny allegations from his daughter.

We persuaded his wife to come home first and then he followed as we felt it was not right to leave him on his own over there in case of another suicide attempt, ( we are christians and hopefully act accordingly). My husband met him off the plane and had a heart to heart with him regarding his daughter. The conversations went along the lines of the possibility that she was abused and then the probability that she was. He eventually admitted that yes it happened but he was drunk and didn't really remember it. We were elated, our feelings were that some kind of apologies, sympathy and understanding could now go out to these two victims and some kind of healing take place within the family.

He went in to a Mental Hospital for treatment for both drink and 'other issues'. (Bear in mind that the statement made to the Police has now gone to the DPP). That was nearly three months ago. During this time his wife has looked "for answers" and spoke on a one-to-one with his Psychiatrist. The Psychiatrist told her that her daughter could fit two profiles - 1. She was sexually abused as a child or 2. She was suffering from False Memory Syndrome. She has elected to believe the latter.

I can only speculate that he is now manipulating his Psychiatrist. Their daughter has been out of their lives for the past year and a half, of her own choosing. She spent months in a Psychiatric Hospital and no one visited her. No one spoke to her except her younger brother who lives in Australia.

Her sister made a statement back then that she was dead to her. They all believed that she was lying and making these dreadful accusations against their Dad. None of them knew about the past abuse of their Aunt. However, we have told them everything recently and they are still choosing to believe him. I am appalled.

His daughter has had years of internal problems which are synonomous with childhood sexual abuse. She reckons the abuse started around the age of six but not exactly sure as she had always known it and thought it was normal.

She had to have her womb removed at the age of 26 after the birth of her child. She also suffered from Endomitriosis. Some Doctors query that this too can be related to childhood sexual abuse. She abused prescribed drugs (administered for post-natal depression) for about five years.

I offered an ear and a shoulder to cry on but sadly because I defended her Mom on occasions (for her sake) she has cut off ties with me. To-day I am expecting her Mom to visit. I believe she wants to try and make me believe what she wants to believe.

The admission by him is sadly 'forgotton' by all and I don't know what the future holds for this sad family. My husband and myself were trying to save everyone. Whether the DPP (Director for Public Prosecution) will go ahead and put this case forward for prosecution remains to be seen - it is over 30 years old. His daughter does not want to hurt her family, despite everything, she has mixed emotions, anger and love.

She will not support her Aunt in this as she says she is not strong enough. Who knows what will happen in ten or twelve years time. Women in their forties come into their own, become resillent and strong,

I believe what goes around comes around and some day she will get justice. Pray for all of them, him included.

Maura

I am an adult survivor of child sexual abuse. I was abused by a male babysitter the first time when I was 4 years old and the second time by a different male babysitter when I was 6 years old.

As a parent, I was diligent about not leaving my children with anyone outside of my family. I waited until my nephew was 17 years old, and had completed the babysitter's course. My children were sexually abused by their cousin while in his care.

I can't explain the hurt and anguish, I truly thought I had thought of everything to protect my children from the pain I had suffered as a child. To add insult to injury, my nephew was acquitted of the charges, for lack of evidence. I know that my children are not liars. You can't have experienced how their trauma has effected them and not know that they are not lying. Children don't lie about this.

Recently it has been discovered that my son is suffering from developmental delays, it is believed that his delays could have been caused by his trauma at a critical time in his development, as he was 18 months old when he was sexually abused.

My husband and I are dedicated parents, and will continue to sort through the layers of this horrible ordeal.

I support this network and pray it will grow in it's ability to reach survivors. I can say it would have been so helpful if I would have had access to a chat room for parents to help me through some of my darkest times during this ordeal. I hope our justice system in Canada will improve in protecting our children, and I pray for peace and healing for all survivors.

Pauline

I'm feeling defensive and angry and upset and emotional and wish everyone would just leave me alone sometimes.

Velma

I was sexually abused from what age i cannot tell you exactly...i remeber being 5 though it could have happened many times before that.

I grew up with my nana and pop in a small country town. My nana's brother sexually abused me more times than i can count from roughly between ages of 5 and 9. i remeber him touching me in private places and sticking his feet between my legs as we sit and eat a meal at my nana's house. no one suspected a thing. he quiet obviously knew what he was doing, to get away with it and knew how to manipulate me into not telling.

He use to always bring me lollies and sit on his lap in the car as we drove up the drive way.. i was about 9 years of age when i finally thought this was wrong and wrote a letter to my nana telling her that he touched me. he was told not to come over anymore... though months later he continued his visits and at this point i was scared i use to hide under my bed until he would go away. i use to see his feet come to my bedroom door and look for me and then walka way. i would hide there until he left.

i find out now im 23 that he sexually abused my nana when she was 16 he was laying on top of her and her father walked in..didnt say anything turned around and walked back out.

my father also was sexually abused as a child by two diffrent men. he now is looking at going to jail for sexually abusing a cousin of mine. another tewo of my aunties one was raped by a family memeber and the other touched indecently. my nana was also raped by another one of her family memebers when she was only 8 years old.

does it seem like a family epademic or was it just because back in those days people kept those kind of things quiet...id imagine if i had a normal family maybe i could have enjoyed my child hood more being repeatdly sexually abused by a family memeber that is still accepted into yur family...how do i deal with something like that now im old enough to understand...

alone

I have finally taken the step to deal with my problem of 22 years ago. I kept the memory with me for so long and to avoid causing any further upset in the family and community I decided that I will deal with it on my own. I am married and currently have 3 children. My poor husband endured every emotional abuse I put him through over the 9 years of marriage. Irrespective he stood by me and is still supporting me. My exeperience was with a religious teacher and this has led me to constantly question my faith. I hope and pray that I will find the answers to why that happened to me specifically, but I also realised that it's too late to question now, but I should focus on my family and the healing process. I went for my first couselling session today and I hope that I will be able to overcome this hurt very soon.

Nadia

I am an adult, female, 48 years of age. I have an uncle that I believe abused a number of my "foster cousins." I know for sure he abused my brother, when he was a child; this brother is now deceased. I learned from another brother that he was also abused, but I don't know exact details. He alleges my eldest brother was also abused.

I related what I knew to my mother, then insisted to my mother that she write a letter to my uncle and tell him that she knows this happened (she previously didn't know) and insist that he get psychological counselling. He wrote back to her and admitted that he had, and how sorry he was.

My mother let me read the letter once, and then she burned it. This was about ten years ago. What I remember is that yes, he admitted it, but he spend alot of time talking about "poor little me suffering all these years..." I don't remember him saying he was receiving any counselling; I'm not convinced my mother put "counselling condition" in her letter.

My mother insisted she had shown the letter to my two brothers (I have 5 brothers—two others left out of conversation, because I don't know anything about their situation) but the brothers involved insist they do not want to pursue this any further, and then she burned the letter. I'm not sure what to do, even after these ten years.

I've sent a letter to Crime Stoppers, but in their eyes, it's probably something they can't act on because it could be a potential "witch-hunt" thing without evidence. I feel overwhelmed with guilt over this—I know even though he is in his seventies, he is still out there, living without any consequences after he has put countless other children through horrible experiences because of this silent complicity on the part of all these family members that know.

He lived with us in Ontario for about three years many years ago, which is when some of this took place. Many years later, he approached my brother again at his own house in large city in Quebec, while his wife and children (and my father too) slept, unaware. My aunt lived there in that city at the same time for a number of years, and had a number of foster children who may have been approached.

One foster child, age 14, told me (age 9) during a stopover visit, that my uncle was a bad man, and I shouldn't go near him. I didn't understand. He told me I was too young to understand, and ended the conversation. I really didn't understand, and mostly didn't think about that conversation until many years later. I was told if I approached the police it would drag my brothers into a situation they don't want to think/speak/deal with and I would be forcing them as a result. I don't want them to hate me. Part of me feels they should have an obligation to speak out—but that's easy for me to say I guess, they would have to be the ones to live through all that again and face the pain.

I feel angriest at my mother, who was the one who should have stepped up to the plate and blown the whistle with the evidence she had in the letter about my brother who died when he was 27. It seemed like it could have been the last act she could have done to attone for the fact that somehow he was unprotected when he was a young child. It could have signalled to my other brothers that what was done to them was WRONG and they were victims.

She even visited him on a trip two years ago with my eldest brother. I feel like a want to spit on him, and I don't understand why no one else feels this way. There is an unspoken riff between my mom and I that the rest of my family doesn't know about, because she knows I feel like she is a coward. I can live with that. She truly believes that if my husband had done something to my kids I would forgive him, and move on. I guess she has years of statistical proof behind this statement but I think/hope she is wrong. No one really knows until they are in the situation I guess.

My husband and I have both said to our children, in each other's presence, that if inappropriate touching ever happened by other people, other adults, teachers, coaches, and even including by either of us, they must tell both/one of us, it's not OK coming from ANYBODY. Anyway, there are still days I live in devestation that this man out there and I haven't stopped him.

Navy

I strive to help others. I need to feel that I am worth something to someone. Anyone. I currently attend Algonquin College to study Trauma & Addiction Recovery Studies. I am a 4th year recovering addict. I have a supportive partner and a caring family who helps me in my recovery and goals. My place of employment has dealt me a lot of patience through these years. I have a network of people who want to help me.

The story. The non-family member touched and fondled me in ways, that I felt alone and scared at 12 years old. I was terrified so much that for 32 years I didn't know what happened. Trust me, I know what happened, I just though, wanted to forget! I felt alone and didin't know who to tell, even though there was family. I was in shock and just wanted to get the hell out of that home. (CAS)

I spent 32 years of just total numbed living. Drugs, low-paying jobs, dead-end friends, lousing up relationships, just not there. The "perp" just kept on living, advancing in life straight to the higher echelons of society. I stayed down in the gutter. Feels like poop. I hated myself and anyone who tried to lift me out. Felt like I couldn't trust anyone anymore.

To this day I still have a hard time just making friends with anyone. I am a nice person. I have a big heart. I wish this experience not on anyone. Now all I want to do is to help. I don’t need a lot of money nor status. Lived without it for years. I have been told that I can influence the good in most people. That's what I am here for. Seems like God did have plans for me after all. How can I help?

Marc Jubinville

Well, we can’t really ask you to share unless we are ready to share ourselves so here goes. My name is Ron Jette and along with Kimothy Walker, I am one of the co-founders of the Child Sexual Abuse Prevention Network. I was a victim of sexual abuse. In a nutshell, this is my story.

At eight years of age, my family split up and I was shuffled among foster homes, group homes, children’s centres and detention centres. All stays were short and often—but not always—came with some degree of physical, emotional or sexual abuse. Perhaps the worst situation was when I was placed with a previously convicted pedophile—twice, once when I was 10 and once when I was 14.

It was a dark and stormy childhood. But at 17, realizing that half my friends were in jail and the other half were dead, it was obvious that I had to make some hard decisions if I were going to be different. I moved from my native Calgary and headed to Ontario where I finished high school and went on to graduate from the Broadcast: Radio and Television program at Conestoga College in Kitchener. In 1985 I moved to Ottawa and have lived here ever since.

Was it difficult? Of course. I carried a deep, dark secret that affected almost everything I did. Close friendships were rare and relationships were difficult—after about seven years of marriage, my wife could finally hug me for more than a few seconds without me saying, “that’s enough.”

Now, that life seems like it happened to someone else. I’ve been with my wife for 22 years, have two beautiful children, a thriving marketing company and a house in the suburbs.

I’m not saying that I still don’t have days that are hard on the soul, but with the love of many good friends and family, life is good. And I’m working hard to keep it that way.

Ron Jette, Ottawa

To all of you who supported our launch. To all of you who will write in this space because you understand the pain of sexual abuse. To all of you who will help us in the future in our fight. ...there are no words to thank you.

The difference now is "we" are a "we," and no longer alone. And "we" will not be silent any longer.

Kimothy

I was sexually abused nightly for about 10 years by my step father. I slept in my clothes, slept on the couch, pretended that it was all a dream but nothing helped.

Finally at 16 I told and as was/is typical no one would believe me. That was 32 years ago. At that time people were just beginning to whisper about sexual child abuse. Like alcoholism it was a skeleton living in the closet of many homes. I knew then that the only way to diminish it's power was to expose it to light so that it would crumble and turn to dust.

I hadn't slept well in years and as a result I ended up with stress induced seizures. So in my mind not only was I wearing a Scarlett Letter from the abuse but I was also marked with seizures. I was flawed and somewhere deep.... unworthy. I saw a therapist, attempted suicide at 18 (I was simply tired of fighting and couldn't imagine how I would have enough energy to make it to 30).

Throughout all of this I was an honour student at school, a counselor to my friends and the one who kept trying to keep the family together. Over the years I sought counseling at different times to try to heal the wounds. The onion would peel and I would notice yet another layer that needed attention. Sometimes I would get frustrated because "I had already done the work", but like the onion, pain has layers and we can only go deeper when we are ready. As time went on I continued to struggle off and on hitting another low when my daughter was turning 3 year old, which would have been the time of my first episode with sexual abuse.

I experienced a full blown episode of Post Traumatic Stess and had to work my way back up again. That was almost 16 years ago. Today my children are all grown up (soon to be 20 and 19) and doing well. My son just completed his first year of university and my daughter will begin university in September. They are both compassionate, caring people with strong confident voices.

Today, I am with a partner who has had the courage to be with me (sometimes off and on) for the past 25 years (it wasn't always easy). Today I choose to have goodness and to speak up when something is wrong. I have learned to be an advocate for myself and others, though I must admit it is still easier at times to fight for someone else.

I look forward to the next stage of life. I laugh often, enjoy time with friends and family, but there are still moments (albeit rare), when I can still feel a shard of glass piercing my soul. These days it just takes some self talk to help it work it's way through.

If I could work to change one thing (besides never having any child abused), it would be to have the courts understand that when a child has been abused a murder has occured. It is the death of innocense. And somehow having an abuser get 3-5 years just doesn't seem enough.

To those who read this and are still struggling, reach out, tell your story, it really does get better. But most importantly it is not your fault.

Kim

I watched the news this morning and noted the speaker promote this site, I was so hopeful. I thought finally, we are going to look at the whole issue rather than the "big bad man" myth that we have created. I keep deceiving myself into believing that things will change and this hope keeps me alive. Is it so bad to hope?

I am one of the 30 plus percentage of victims who are not allowed a voice, a male. I am also the victim of one of the 30 plus percentage of sex offenders who are not allowed a voice, a female. I am hopeful enough to even believe that some will be surprised by the numbers but we know that these numbers have been available to us for decades. They are confirmed in even higher percentages in newer studies such as the Pearson 97 study, using empirical data.

Despite the sexual assault centres consistent promotion of the myth that sexual assault as a male offender and female victim only world... calling it feminist ideology... I survive because I keep hope. Nothing can be allowed to diminish my hope. The fact that I am not allow to be heard because I have a penis, the fact that there is knowledge of others like me which is squashed or misrepresented, the fact that my tax dollars are paying for a team of lawyers to fight my right to seek equal access to treatment in our provincial sexual assault centres and not even the fact that as an addict.

I meet men and women like me daily living our horrors quietly in A.A. and N.A. rooms can be allowed to stop me from having hope. I need to keep believing that this time it will be different, that this time they will tell the truth. Others will know that I am not a freak of nature because my mother was a paedophile. This time they will tell that it was she who was broken and not blame me. I keep thinking this, I keep hoping for this and I keep coming into sites, rooms and groups waiting for that someone who will speak for me because I am not allowed to speak for myself. Even my church silences me and follows the male versus female equation that says because I am only one of three victims... I am not important.

If only I were a person rather than a male. Yet unlike my brothers who I've buried I have the opportunity to keep hoping. I have the opportunity to keep refusing to allow organizations like the Canadian Association of Sexual Assault Centres from telling me that my only option is for my mother and I to fall into their categories of the male offender and the female victim. I thank God for this opportunity and it gives me hope for the others who have no voice. Somedays, today it does seem to be a never ending unfruitful hope that I somehow have to keep hanging onto or else, fall into the despair that has taken so many of us. But it is good to have hope because there is no sadness in hoping, the sadness is in knowledge. It is in knowing that my mother reached out for help. It is knowing that she told verbally what the doctors, nurses social workers in the countless hospitals chose not to see in the examinations of us children. It is in having the knowledge that they refused to help her that I find sadness so I stick to hoping.

There is life in keeping hope. My brother before he took his life had hope also. He like our mother reached out and he spoke verbally of the horrors our mother committed against us to a sexual assault centre. Unfortunately they chose to offer him the help which was refused our mother. She, a predator was not allowed to be recognised as a predator. In reviewing her records they show her as depressed and suicidal. Labels which open the comments of inappropriate sexual behaviour towards her children. My brother, her victim was denied help as a victim because he was a male and instead, because he was a male... he was offered treatment in how not to assault women and children. No, no, and no again, he did not nor would not harm a woman or a child! The fact that he was born with a penis placed him in the only category available to a male, that of our mother. He refused to fill the pigeon hole that we as a society carved out for him. He forgot to keep hoping and instead chose a bottle of pills, a gas can and lighter instead.

I often wonder if our mother had been given the right of treatment as a offender would my brother have been given the right to treatment as the victim? Would he be alive today if we were able to be see everyone as a person first rather than as a male or female. I can and choose to hope that one day violence will not be seen as a gender issue. I am left thinking on the women who fought to bring in feminism despite the terrific harm to themselves. What would they think of the loss of feminism in our sexual assault centres today? What would they think of the use of the term feminism being used by the sexual assault centres as a shield for sexist but legal discrimination against victims because of gender. I wonder to much most days but I will keep hoping and I will be grateful that unlike many, I am alive to have this opportunity to be neither male or female but instead, to be a Survivor who lives in hope!

Shawn

Hello ! Congratulations on your grand debut !

I am a fifty-one year old married man with two extaordinary children that are the light of my life. When I was seven years old a paedophile infiltrated our family and sexually abused me numerous over a period of two years. During this time I also witnessed the repeated sexual abuse of my mother by my father.

My father and mother are both survivors. Our home life deteriorated to the point that I was removed from my home and put into the cae of the Chidrens Aid Society. While in care, I was sexually abused by an older woman who was working at the family shelter while she waited to have her baby. I was eventually placed into " foster care " and sexually abused by my foster parents over a period nine months. All of this happened between the ages of seven and eleven years old.

When I was eight years old I began cutting myself to numb my pain , I began smoking cigarettes when I was nine and got drunk for the first time when I was twelve years old. By the time i was sixteen I had attempted to kill myself three times. I was in juvenile court on six separate occasions for charges ranging from auto theft when I was eight to drinking under age and theft at the age of sixteen.

When I graduated from high school in Renfrew, I moved to Ottawa to attend Algonquin college. Whwen I was twenty-two years old i completed my studies at Algonquin in the Social Service Worker program and have been a practicing social worker for thirty years. In addition to full-time work as an Addictions Outreach Mental Health Worker, Case Manager and service coordinator I have also worked part-time at Algonquin as a teacher in the SSW program. I am currently on disability leave ( the fifth time in ten years ), and receiving treatment for latent PTSD at the centre for sexual abuse and trauma and progressing fairly well.

I was not able to truly " come out of hiding " until 2002, even though I have been some form of recovery since 1989. It was during the period of my last disability I knew I had to mae a choice. Get help or die a slow painful death.

I did not do this for myself. I did not value myself enough or believe it was possible for me. It was out of a deep sense of responsiblity of parenting and the love for my children. Plain and simple. I could not deny them the chance of being parented by a man who had done all he could to be whole for them. Reframing it that way helped me turn the corner. For the first time in my life I did not let my fear, shame, self-loathing or gult keep me from doing whatever it took to get well. I began a process of recovery and treatment at The Centre for Sexual Abuse and Trauma thatit continues on to this day.

I am a poet, a rock garden designer, a play write, a marathon runner and a research analyst in the area of mental health and trauma. Today is just another another miracle along the way. I found you. Listening to Kimothy Walker speak about her experince brought tears to my eyes. To hear that a woman of her stature and courage publicaly delare the reality that for male survivors, it is the unbearable shame that keeps us from coming forward. More woman are abused and more woman die but still she says the truth, the shame is worse for men. God bless her for braking the silence on this truth, but not comparing pain or suffering. We were all innocent children at one time. None of us asked for this burden in life.

At the present time I am putting the final touches on a manuscript that i hope to develop into a novel or pehaps even a script, depending on what inspires me first. The title of my work will be " The Sacred Trust " I think one thing that is absolute crucial for anyone to get well is the " sacred trust" that must exist in order to be heard. What is the sacred trust? It is any form of communication between a victim of abuse and any person who they perceive to be in a position of authority. So that is essentially everyone. Until we break the silence, have a voice and get good treatment we are at the mercy of everyone. Our parents, family relations, friends, teachers, doctors, criminal justice workers, lawyers, our boss, co-workers, neighbours etc. Everyone we meet is in a position of authority by default until we forge the " sacred trust. The trust for me is not about listening or doing. It's about something far more important than that. The sacred trust is knowing you, " believe me. " When I sense that you truly believe what i say then and only then I will tell you tell you what happened.

Thank you for allowing me to form this " sacred trust " with you. Fell free to share any and all information if it can be of service to others If I can be of any help as a volunteer or speaker please do not hesitate to call. I will contact you in the future to share my ideas on the development of a " Mentor Program " for survivors. 613-821-2031 293-8893

Michael j. Anderson

Hey guys my name is Jessica and I am 22 years old. I was both phsically and sexually abused as a child. I know that the abuse is not right at all. Try to reach out and get help. Someone will listen to you. I held a lot of hatred for many years towards the people that abused me, but I have realised something now that I am older. I learned that we can't change the past but we can help others in need.

For those of us that experienced the abuse, we know the signs. I know that being abused as a child it made me who I am today. I hope that everyone knows where to go for support. It took me a long time to find out where to go. But I finally found out where to go. I am not sure what else to say but take care every one and have a great day. KEEP YOUR CHIN UP :)

Jessica