Poetry helps me to express the things I find harder to say. One thing I don’t talk about much is the lodger who lives in my body. I tolerate him simply because he’s been with me for a long time and I’m used to him. This lodger’s name is Anxiety. He also goes by the name Fear, Worry and On Edge.
Continue reading “Feeling the Fear”
When I was 14, the abuse stopped. I broke contact with the abuser. I said no to him for the first time and saw a side to him I’d never seen before.
I witnessed apoplectic rage, vicious threats and I knew I would never feel safe.
I also knew I couldn’t ask for help because no one knew about the child sexual abuse, or the extent of the emotional abuse. How could I express my fear without breaking my silence? How could I break my silence when I felt so unsafe?
Continue reading “Life Lasting”
Why is it so hard to stop? To slow down, to make our hands idle, turn away from the computer and the lists of many things to do and say?
How hard it is to sit. Still for a moment or two. To stop responding to the pull of our phone, listen to nothing at all, except the bird in the tree who’s been singing all day, unheard by ears and minds as overworked and overwhelmed as ours.
How hard to close our eyes and clear our heads of cluttered thoughts. To be at peace with empty and become an enemy of loud. To seek quiet. To accept it and invite it in for a while.
How to meet our own needs whilst setting aside the needs and wants of others? How to remain present. Settled. Not distracted by forwards, sideways or back. To switch off guilt. To wait with patience. To delay, procrastinate, rest, restore, learn to say no (and mean it)
and… breathe.
I have been drawing these spirals since childhood. I spiralled my way through my last few difficult years at school, I spiralled through therapy sessions, and if you see me looking down in Zoom meetings I will be writing notes but there will be a spiral or two going on as well. They help me to gather my thoughts. To slow my mind. To stay present.
I’m inspired by someone I met recently, who showed me her clever, intricate and rather special drawings that took care, mindfulness and time. Because of her drawings I am encouraged to make time for myself and my own. I have been working more hours a day than I should, for nearly three years and my body and mind is telling me it is time to slow down, to step off, to grind to a halt…with nothing more than a book or two, a pad of paper and a pen.
So that is what I’ll do. I am off to the sea.
We are pleased to announce there are a few spaces left in our online writing group!
If you are an adult survivor of Child Sexual Abuse (CSA) and would like to join, please send an email to groups@theflyingchild.com (places will be given on a first come, first served basis).
(If you have attended in the past you are more than welcome to come along again)
The groups are funded by The National Lottery Community Fund, and are FREE to join. Here is some feedback from previous participants.
Blog developed from previous Instagram posts about the impact of Child Sexual Abuse on pregnancy, birth and motherhood.
I read an article recently by Gretchen Schmelzer called The Courage of Parenting with a History of Trauma.
There was a part that really stood out to me:
“If you had been physically disabled by a past trauma and chose to run a marathon—people would call you brave. But we don’t do that with emotional wounds. They are invisible and the parents who rise to the occasion—and parent with love and purpose—who give what they never got—they are unsung heroes.”
This is so true. Navigating parenthood as a survivor of Child Sexual Abuse (CSA) can be an isolating experience and this starts at the very beginning. Nobody speaks about it. There is limited or no opportunity to bring conversations into antenatal appointments. There is no mention of trauma in parenting groups. We deal with the often highly triggering process of pregnancy and birth on our own, we might struggle with breastfeeding, to bond, or even have fears around gender – but we crack on because we have to.
The Last Taboo: Produced by Redzi Bernard and Phoebe McIndoe. A Falling Tree production for BBC Radio 4
Hurt People Hurt People goes round in our heads and we can’t risk our struggles being misunderstood as poor parenting. We want to be good parents. To break patterns, not be accused of causing further hurt. So we stay silent.
Here’s to all the CSA survivors doing their best to parent without the support they deserve. The ones doing their best to work it all out… to heal, to stop trauma passing to the next generation.
They are unsung heroes indeed.
Continue reading “Unsung Heroes”
Prompted by Twitter threads here and here.
Most people have little idea of what to say when someone discloses Child Sexual Abuse.
Some react brilliantly – a hug, a kind word or two (it’s rare). There is usually a shocked pause (forgivable – after all it is a shocking form of abuse). I sense the cogs turning as they search for something, anything to make this uncomfortable, unfathomable and perhaps unwelcome moment in time feel a bit better. For them.
Continue reading “CSA: When Words Fail…”
This is me; this is my story. But of course, it’s not just mine. This story has happened to and continues to happen to many people. The details may differ but the impact is devastating.
At best, we might experience feelings of shame, confusion or lack of self-worth. At worst, we might feel our lives are blighted by unbearable emotional distress or physical illness. A lack of support for Child Sexual Abuse survivors might lead some to develop coping mechanisms such as the ones described in this blog.
If you relate to anything here, I hope you are reassured to know that you’re certainly not alone. Navigating your way through life as a CSA survivor can feel overwhelming. At times, it might feel insurmountable, but it’s not. There is always hope. There is always a way through.
Continue reading “Fall Forward (my journey in a nutshell)”
When you were seven, and the stranger wearing a grey suit and driving a red car said through the open window, if you get in I’ll take you to see some puppies, and you pedalled home into the arms of your abuser, it was Not-Love when he told you how proud he was and how clever you were, not to get in a car with a stranger.
Continue reading “Thoughts on Not-Love”
The Flying Child ‘leads conversations about Child Sexual Abuse through survivor-led training, campaigning and support.’
The most effective way for us to lead conversation is through Twitter. There is good engagement, and because our work is quite varied, followers are from all walks of life. As well as the amazing survivors, there are people from different professions including teachers, social workers, medical practitioners, counsellors, priests, journalists, academics, police and creatives. At times we find it almost impossible to keep up with the conversations.
When posting on social media I used to fear I was speaking within my own echo chamber but things have changed and I don’t think I’m speaking to the converted anymore.
Yesterday I delivered my first workshop for A Disorder For Everyone AD4E. The workshop was aimed at those working in therapeutic and support settings and we explored how to best support CSA survivors without pathologising and retraumatising them.
I discussed how the ‘help’ I received in the mental health system was medicalised from the start. I was told the ‘issue’ was in my head, that I was ill and there was ‘a chemical imbalance’ in the brain. This scientific validity of psychiatric diagnosis is now widely disputed, but I had no ability to challenge it at that time. I knew deep down that abuse was the crux of the issue but thought it had caused my brain to ‘go wrong’. I trusted my consultant.
Continue reading “A Disorder For Everyone!”
One of the biggest issues we face as survivors is the public attitude towards the subject of CSA and, by consequence, ourselves. The negative responses we receive are extremely silencing but perhaps that is the point. There is great comfort to be found in denial of a crime that affects an estimated 11 million adult survivors in the U.K.
When I started on this activism journey, I shared the manuscript of my book (the fairy-tale part) with many people, and the responses from a few were so shocking and unexpected, such a punch to the stomach, that I nearly gave up.
Continue reading “Small Signs of Change”
This tweet followed an interaction that left me feeling a bit tired. Despite the extraordinary estimated statistics of adult survivors in the U.K., CSA survivors are an isolated community. It is hard to come together as a group because people don’t want us. I remember years ago, trying to find a free venue for a local charity peer support group, so it could keep going despite funding cuts. I knocked on many doors: Churches, cafes, pubs, community centres and the message was loud and clear.
Our insurance won’t cover you (a church that hosted various community groups)
The elders have said it’s inappropriate (we were a small group of women, drinking tea and chatting, in private).
We don’t think it’s a suitable group for our church (a huge red flag in my opinion)
Continue reading ““Too Heavy””
It’s the little things.
My child, older now, video calls.
Can we go to the garden centre together? I want to buy some plants; will you help me choose?
It’s the little things like:
The pointing out of names.
Geraniums, you’re also looking for Pelargoniums. They’re the same plant.
A little thing, but she didn’t know. I did so I passed it on.
Look for both names, I say.
I help her choose.
White? Or pink? Which one do you like best?
Will they last?
Yes, if you water them every now and then.
We observe the little things:
Like how to remove the old flowers to encourage new growth. Like the surprise of a small bud.
Like twenty percent off at the till, because it’s a bank holiday.
The little things are looking forward, together. Making plans. Little ones, like pointing out the burger van on our way to the car… shall we go next time?
It is the little things that are the most important.
Like walking by her side. Like holding her arm and remembering her first steps at thirteen months. She had blonde curls at the nape of her neck. A stork mark underneath that would flush an angry red when she cried. I wonder, is it still there?
So much time and so many little things have passed, and they went by very fast, when my attention was stolen. When my journey was frozen in time.
If i hadn’t found my way out, would she have gone alone to buy plants? Wondered about seasons and sunlight, annuals, and herbaceous borders? Who would she have made little plans with?
That thought of it makes me want to weep.
I focus on the little things that remind me I’m living: that make me feel alive.
It is the little things that are insignificant yet so momentous. I must hang on to each one. Write it. Document it. Remember it, to make up for the little things I lost when I was present and absent. A million miles away. When there was layer upon layer of thick glass between me and The World. When I was lost in the fog, when I loved her, I loved her so much, but I couldn’t find her, because I couldn’t find me.
Spaces for survivors of Child Sexual abuse (CSA) are few and far between. As a group we are hidden and can feel silenced. Even when people ‘know’, it can be hard to speak openly. We know the misconceptions people have, and the judgment that might be passed. We know exactly what speaking openly risks and what we might lose.
Thanks to The National Lottery Community Fund, our in-person, peer support group is now up and running. It is therapist and lived experience co-led, the aim being to create a sense of ‘us’ as opposed to the ‘them and us’ approach favoured by some but disliked by many. The encouragement is to share openly if you need to, leave armour and masks at the door, and to know that above all, you are welcome in the space. This applies to facilitators as well. If something feels relatable then why not say so? We can become so tied up in policy and protocol that we forget we are humans too. This can create a power imbalance within a group setting. It can also breed resentment. I used to ask, ‘but how do you understand? Have you experienced this yourself?’ and being frustrated by the cagey, neither yes nor no response.
CSA survivors who have experienced manipulation, betrayal or gaslighting to the extreme, deserve authenticity, connection, and sincerity, not rigidity and inflexibility.
As a group, CSA survivors are often placed in a peer support with others who have no experience of CSA. Whilst there might be similarities with those who have experienced sexual violence as an adult, there are also differences. I have benefitted from mixed groups – in many ways they were life changing for me and played a vital part role in my own journey, and I value beyond measure, the connections I made. However, at times I felt excluded from conversations because I was silenced by these differences. In my head they were significant, and I sat with a heavy feeling in my heart that others just wouldn’t – or couldn’t understand. So, I sometimes didn’t speak, even when I desperately wanted to. I longed to meet people ‘like me.’ I would have preferred a group of CSA survivors had there been a choice.
Spaces for survivors of CSA allow opportunity for us to meet and speak to others who can understand and relate in some way. Our stories may differ, but we will all face common challenges in a society that prefers to turn away from this form of abuse.
It is a privilege to meet such incredible and inspiring survivors at our different peer support groups, to hear their stories and to witness our isolated community coming together.
These 12 week in-person groups are not therapy groups. They are particularly suitable for those looking for survivor-led support but with the added reassurance of a highly experienced therapist and her well established (excellent!) self-development programme. The Surrey location is conveniently accessed on public transport with easy links to London.
In March, a wonderful thing happened. Amanda, a lovely lady who had attended a previous school training, got in touch to let me know she had decided to run the Surrey Half Marathon to raise money for The Flying Child.
I was blown away by this. We are a Community Interest Company which means we are nonprofit and do rely on funding, and so for someone to choose us as their cause, meant such a lot to us.
Around this time we ordered some marketing materials for the organisation, and T-shirts for us as a team. We had recently publicly announced our new tagline…
“Society’s Shame Not Mine”
…and wanted to wear our T-shirts for our events but also to encourage much needed conversations about Child Sexual Abuse when out and about in everyday life.
We had a few comments on social media and private messages, asking if we would sell the T-shirts, and so when I met with Amanda to say thank you for the incredible £367.23 raised, we decided buying T-shirts would be a great way to spend the money.
We had given a lot of thought to the original design. My dilemma was the words. One of the biggest problems we have in society is that people shy away from using the actual words. The acronym ‘CSA’ feels ‘safer’ but this can exacerbate stigma. Despite this, we decided the acronym ‘CSA’ is as valid as the words: ‘Child Sexual Abuse’ – for three reasons.
Firstly, as a survivor I remember how painful I found it – how impossible to say the words. I would have preferred to wear a T-shirt, or a badge that ‘said it’ without ‘saying it’. That would have felt far more comfortable for me.
Secondly, I want people to feel comfortable wearing the T-shirts around young children. I do believe children should be aware of the term, mine are – but I choose not to subject them to the words every moment I’m with them. I would also not want to walk into a school playground with the full words on show, and expose them to other children, without context.
The third reason is because I’ve noticed a curious thing happens when wearing something that ‘says it’ without ‘saying it’. People start to ask what it’s saying.
What does CSA stand for? people ask me. And I tell them, and the conversation, the one that never really happens, begins: What is it for? Where do you work? What does The Flying Child do… how did you get into that work… oh, you’re a survivor… I didn’t know… oh the statistics are that bad…? and so on.
Before they know it, people have had a whistle-stop tour of the societal issue that they might otherwise have remained blissfully unaware of: They engaged in a conversation that might never have happened. Had they seen ‘Child Sexual Abuse’ on my T-shirt, would they have spoken to me about the T-shirt? Possibly some might, but I know many would not. They would have avoided me, avoided my eye, and the opportunity to talk would have been lost.
So… there is absolute merit in using both. We need the real words out there because when we are used to seeing it it lowers the taboo and takes away some of the fear that makes many turn away … but we also need to gently coerce people into conversations that otherwise might not happen.
We will therefore be offering T-shirts that both ‘say it’ and don’t ‘say it’. They will be FREE (we ask you pay for postage and packing), and available on a first-come, first-served basis and we hope you wear them, as we do, with pride – and spread the message that Child Sexual Abuse is “Society’s Shame, Not Mine”
(Please check our social media @TheFlyingChild for T-shirt announcments!)
Thrilled to see this announced in The Bookseller. Published by ZunTold– The Flying Child is part memoir and part documentation of the journey I took with Patricia Walsh – a therapist who helped me find a way to tell my story. It’s not that I hadn’t tried before, I had many ‘failed’ attempts at therapy, but Pat’s approach was not one I’d experienced.
With Child Sexual Abuse and mandatory reporting finally being recognised politically, it is important to make sure all are trained to recognise early signs of abuse and manage disclosure in the best way possible.
Mandatory reporting is one of the key recommendations for change made by the independent inquiry into child sexual abuse (IICSA). Would you know how to navigate that process in a way that doesn’t retraumatise the child?
Continue reading “The Flying Child Project”
Sometimes she called me Pobble With No Toes
from a poem
I think
by Edward Leah
it made me giggle and wiggle my toes
to check they were still there
sometimes he called me Poppet
with a wink and a crocodile smile
he kept his teeth hidden
hello Poppet
I shot up to the sky
my heart fell into my feet
Sophie Olson
Continue reading “No Toes and Crocodile Smiles”
This has been a week of travelling, networking, connection and collaboration. A week of laughter, empowerment, and overcoming.
It has been a week of public speaking, guest panels, consultancy and change-making. I have met up with old friends and made new ones, professionally, personally and both.
Continue reading “Revolution”
There were so many days like this. Too many days. It feels like a lifetime of surviving. Often I wonder why I did survive. Sometimes I feel so very old.
This poem reflects a point in my life where I had reached out for help more times than I can remember. I had tried to be stronger, happier – more resilient. I had tried to focus on, and be grateful for the good things – there were many good things – but I was drowning and help wasn’t forthcoming.
Continue reading “Surviving in Stormy Seas”
Today marks the last day of Sexual Abuse & Sexual Violence Awareness Week – the UK’s national week to raise awareness of sexual abuse and violence. At #TheFlyingChild we decided to engage by highlighting some important statistics, challenging stigma and sharing the work we’re doing with The Flying Child Project.
#ItsNotOk social media post
On Monday we shared the above image across our social media.
“Over 90% of sexually abused children were abused by someone they knew” (Radford, 2011)
On Tuesday we shared one of the statistics we use in our training.
A quote from The Flying Child Project training.
On Wednesday we shared this quote from The Flying Child Project. As we say to attendees, training is only a small part of tackling the epidemic of child sexual abuse. The biggest barrier we face to making meaningful change is society’s inability to speak about a taboo subject. One of the best things we can do as individuals is engage with the narrative. #ItsNotOk to turn away from the subject because what message does that send to children? What message does it send to perpetrators – that they can carry on whilst we look the other way? We can all play a part in tackling CSA. Yes – it’s uncomfortable to talk about but we must never prioritise our own comfort above the safety of children.
On Wednesday evening I spoke to SARSAS on a Twitter Space about my work as a Survivor Activist, my writing and The Flying Child Project. SARSAS also work with professionals and young people in schools and we came to the conclusion there is “a lot of work to do” (You can listen to the whole interview on the home page and on YouTube.)
Social media clip
ABC of CSA Exhibition by Viv Gordon Co
On Thursday, Anna and I travelled down to Exeter for the launch of the Viv Gordon Company ABC of CSA exhibition – ” a creative resource to support better conversations about child sexual abuse.”
We had the opportunity to view the wonderful artwork by Imogen Harvey-Lewis, catch up with friends and allies and listen to inspiring poetry read by fellow survivors of CSA.
On Friday we are worked with social workers at Together for Children Sunderland alongside the wonderful Sarah Pritchard from Barnardos Tees Valley Services. I always enjoy working with Sarah because she is what many would describe as a courageous practitioner – someone unafraid to open conversations, to say the words some might shy away from. Part of our training was to challenge the preconceived ideas people may hold about CSA. Due to a technical issue we were running late and it was encouraging to see how many choose to stay and listen to the end, and then ask us questions!
We finished the week by sharing our flyer for peer support in the local area. You can read more about the groups here.
The week ended on a bit of a high as I met with my publisher on Saturday. We have decided that #ItsNotOK24 will be the week we launch my book – The Flying Child. Keep an eye out for the formal announcement coming soon…
Stigma.
Shame.
Silence.
Three words that epitomise a problem survivor activists face as individuals trying to break down barriers, and make a positive change to the lives of both child victims and adult survivors of Child Sexual Abuse.
It’s easy for me to stand in front of strangers and say the relevant words, but when it’s to someone I know, it takes a different sort of strength. I know what it risks. I’m tired of the ignorant reactions and know the likelihood of receiving one is high.
Continue reading “Honest Conversations”
Some people with underlying trauma will be misdiagnosed. I believe it happened to me and I’ve seen it happen to others. I’ve also seen for myself the devastation of untreated mental illness, the way it impacts on family and the miracle that happens when that person emerges from the depths of despair to claim back the life they lost.
Continue reading “Battle of Beliefs”
2022 has been a fantastic year for The Flying Child. There are too many people to tag individually but thank you to everyone who has supported our work, worked with us, shared the blog, contributed to the blog, taken the time to comment or share, listened to us speak, attended our training, mentored, advised, donated – and to The National Lottery Community Fund for funding us for the next 3 yrs – wishing you all a happy and healthy 2023.
Sophie x
I watched a drama on TV and felt unwelcome body memories fire as an older man placed a necklace around the neck of a young girl. I remembered once hearing that it takes seven years for cells to replace themselves. That made me feel good. Is my body no longer tainted by your touch? If so why does my skin still crawl? Why do certain things make me shrink and curl up small inside my head? Why do I feel you still, if you’re no longer here? I want to shake you off, but the memory of you clings with grim determination.
Are we ever truly free?
Diary entry 2020
Continue reading “Don’t Touch”
Last week I was asked to be a guest speaker alongside Viv Gordon at the #CSAQT Twitter Space. It was a space beautifully held by Five (@sur5vors) and Lucy (@smile4wales), and despite my nerves, I really enjoyed it! (It also helped doing it with Viv as we have worked together quite a lot and I feel quite comfortable with her).
If you missed the Space or you’re interested in Survivor Activism, you can read some of my answers below – including my answers to questions we didn’t have time for. Thanks Five and Lucy for inviting me and for helping me overcome my fear of Twitter Spaces!
Continue reading “Survivor Activism: Q&A”
Nothing compares to the connection between survivors. How it feels to be together. The opportunity to just ‘be’.
No masking, no hesitating- no hiding.
Acceptance, understanding and recognition.
Continue reading “‘Just Be’”
A Surrey-based Community Interest Company, The Flying Child is celebrating today after being awarded three years of funding from The National Lottery Community Fund, to support survivors of child sexual abuse (CSA) in Surrey and to continue providing professional training through The Flying Child Project.
Founded in 2020, the survivor-led project has reached over 1000 professionals to date, across the U.K. in Education, Social Work, and healthcare settings, improving understanding of trauma resulting from CSA and the confidence of professionals in supporting both children and adults in a trauma informed way. In a recent participant survey, 100 percent of attendees said they felt better equipped to manage a disclosure of CSA, with all likely to recommend the training to a colleague.
“The training was fantastic. It openly addressed difficult conversations through real life experiences and first-hand conversations. It really highlighted the volume of CSA in the community, some not dealt with. We haven’t had training like it. I would recommend every [professional setting] to participate”.
Training participant (Primary School Teacher)
The new National Lottery funding will allow The Flying Child Project to continue their training, aiming to reach thousands more over the three-year period. It will also fund The Flying Child peer support and creative well-being groups for survivors of CSA in the local community.
The groups will consist of a 12-week therapist-led programme, co-facilitated by a lived experience support worker. In addition, creative groups for survivors will be offered, providing the opportunity to express trauma through art and writing, meet other survivors and build networks in a supportive space. Over the next three years The Flying Child aims to support 360 survivors of CSA – with initial groups starting in the new year.
Sophie Olson, founder and managing director of The Flying Child, said:
“Thanks to National Lottery players, this grant means we have a fantastic opportunity to improve outcomes for both child victims and adult survivors of CSA. As an organisation we normalise speaking about an ‘unspeakable’ subject and challenge the societal culture of silence. Lived experience in training helps to break down barriers and dispel myths that lead to victims of abuse being overlooked, and their normal reactions to trauma being misunderstood. The current statistics estimate there are 11 million adult survivors of CSA in the UK, equating to 1 in 6, yet are a large, hidden, and marginalised group, with services often not adequately trauma informed or accessible.
CSA is a devastating form of abuse with long-lasting consequences on mental and physical health, and wellbeing. Peer support groups play a vital role in the community. Because CSA is considered a taboo subject, stigma and shame silences the majority with many believing they are the only one. This is something we aim to change. This grant will make a big difference to people’s lives.”
The Flying Child encourages the local community to engage on Twitter and Instagram @flying_project, and to become survivor ‘allies’ – helping to challenge the silence surrounding CSA. Sophie Olson’s story can be heard on the BBC Radio 4 documentary The Last Taboo. For more information about the training or peer support groups, please visit www.theflyingchild.com.
During the pandemic, in 2020 alone, The National Lottery Community Fund distributed almost £1 billion to charities and community organisations across the UK.
To find out more visit www.TNLCommunityFund.org.uk
There are many misconceptions surrounding Child Sexual Abuse. This is in part due to the silence, but they are perpetuated because misconceptions are more palatable than the reality.
Continue reading “Misconceptions (part one)”
It is a commonly expressed concern that survivors are too vulnerable to do this work and might be retraumatised in the process. I have never felt this, on the contrary I feel empowered when I speak and it is fulfilling to be left with the sense of having made a tangible difference to the way professionals might perceive, interact with and respond to child and adult survivors of child sexual abuse.
Continue reading “Lived Experience”
Content: Child sexual abuse. Suicide.
This week I have been considering why it’s so hard for survivors to reach out even when our support network is strong. I feel that I’m an old hand at this and it should be easy to say when I’m triggered but it’s not. Some triggers grind me to a halt and I need to take a few days to reflect on what it was, process the memory and wait for the wave to pass.
Continue reading “On the Crest of a Wave”
One reason I love doing this work is the variety of people we come into contact with. Since piloting The Flying Child Project in September last year we have delivered training to approximately 400 people including teachers, school staff, admin staff, Masters students, practice educators, consultants, nurses, doctors, matrons and Psychology students. Today we presented to Social Work undergraduates.
The information we give to Social Work students is quite different to the information we deliver to medical staff or teachers simply because they could work in a multitude of different locations and situations, supporting a diverse range of individuals including those in prisons, schools, hospitals, care homes and family settings; they will work with the homeless, and with people struggling with mental health or addiction. As we know, many survivors of sexual violence may need support later in life. Some will end up in crisis and they risk their trauma responses being misunderstood, as ours were. We took the students on a journey and allowed them to step into our shoes as we shared our own experiences, including the impact of trauma on motherhood, postnatal depression, mental health, relationships and discussed intergenerational trauma. We had a lot to say, as did the survivors who had shared their experiences with us on social media.
With their permission, we were able to bring in many quotes from survivors of CSA- the aim being to reduce the chance of ‘othering’ the public speakers and of our stories evoking sympathy but being disregarded as unusual, or a one-off.
As well as encouraging the students to always consider trauma in the work they do, we helped them to understand why it’s not always easy for the survivor to speak out, and pointed out that people display signs of trauma in different ways. We said they mustn’t be afraid of asking the question, “what happened to you”, and discussed the power and importance of human connection and relationship.
There was an interesting question and answer session and we were able to touch upon social justice and the problems survivors face when reporting. Our focus was intrafamilial abuse, as research suggests that over 90 percent of sexually abused children are abused by someone they know (Radford 2011), but we included quotes from male and female survivors who were abused by non-family members.
My biggest wish is for people to leave our talks with an insight that they may not have had before, and for our stories and the survivor quotes to give them food for thought as they move forward and start their professional journey. Above all, I hope they feel inspired to do their bit to swim against the tide and break the culture of silence surrounding CSA.
Some pieces of writing have been sitting in draft form for a while. I am always unsure whether to post things this as they don’t paint an accurate picture of where I am currently in life. This poem was written nearly two years ago, at the very beginning of my activism journey. It was a time of intense self-reflection and processing of unexpected grief. Shame was still an unwelcome and persistent visitor as I starting to speak openly but I was receiving a few negative reactions. It felt like teetering on the edge of a cliff. I nearly gave up on my ideas and aspirations but I didn’t. I had a tremendous drive to move forward to the next stage in my life that I couldn’t ignore any longer. I was just on the cusp of ‘learning to fly’.
Continue reading “All The Lost Things”
Listen to Sophie Olson’s story…
A Falling Tree Production: produced by Redzi Bernard and Phoebe Mcindoe.
