So now I am standing, high up on the hill and as I survey the beautiful town and the sparkling lights before me, I see that my future didn’t go anywhere, I just had to go on a long detour because the first path was blocked. I stopped and picked up a few hitchhikers along the way and they walk beside me as I continue this journey. They are called empathy, belief, strength and determination.

This is not a blog to debate whether or not survivors of child sexual abuse within the family should or shouldn't cut off all contact with their families. It’s a post to acknowledge that neither decision is an easy one. Both come with challenges - mainly a huge amount of sadness or grief - and distressing memories that feel particularly unfair during times like Christmas.

"Can I let go of what others think of me? What would that be like? Has there ever been a time when I did not bounce off of other’s opinions?" What Others Think - a poem by John Baker (The Flying Child guest blog)

Pat is a valued part of The Flying Child community and has kindly shared this poem with us. (For clarity - this not the same Pat many associate with The Flying Child)

Dentists need to know that my mouth tells a story. The story of my life. The story of me. Dentists need to know that my mouth can’t tell this story with words, as they are trapped in my heart and stuck in my throat. Words choke me. My mouth wants to tell you but it can’t. 

"I am frequently asked what book I would recommend for counselling techniques when working with trauma. The best advice I was ever given was in a simple and profound story told to me by my qigong master, Christopher. This story had been passed on to him by his teacher when he had asked a similar question to mine about working with trauma. I have written it verbatim as it was told to me, so that none of its depth is lost and can be understood at multiple levels." Patricia Wals

I died when I was nine. I lay on a bed and I closed my eyes. And I wished for my mother. And died . It didn’t hurt to die like it hurt to live. It was a relief.

What began months ago with a passionate conversation after an event with a fellow panelist, grew into a kitchen-table meetup in Rochdale. This week we convened in Bloomsbury with practitioner allies. Tea, shortbread, and shared experience...

Guest blog for The Flying Child by JoMo

A guest blog for The Flying Child by Jessica Matthews