I’m heartened by the kind regards from people who have read my poetry collection. I am glad they have been helped by reading my words.
I wish to eventually take my poetry to other troubled people in the hope of helping them find a more peaceful place to be. Being abused is a terrible thing, but being abused by people who should be taking care of you is surely one of the most awful things that can happen to a young person.
I’m lucky in that the man who abused me when I was a child wasn’t actually a relative. I called him uncle, as all of the children who knew him did, but he was simply a man who boarded with my grandmother. I found some peace when I first wrote a poem about my experience, and named him.
He is long gone now, and I certainly don’t mourn him. I suspect there was no-one much at all who was sorry when this man died. He had been a drinker at his local hotel, but I think that was the extent of his socialising, apart from taking part in family things my grandmother held or attended.
I disliked the man, and I know my mother didn’t like him either. She told me recently that she thought my female cousins may have had something not nice happen with Les as well, but she wasn’t sure about the details.
I know this man was estranged from his family. He was a help to my grandmother, doing handyman type things when he wasn’t at the hotel drinking. I have no idea whether my grandmother had any idea about these nasty things her boarder did. It’s too late now, he’s dead, she’s dead.
I’m a survivor, and I wish the same for other victims of child sexual abuse. I firmly believe creative writing made all the difference for me. I am available to assist others who wish to explore this.
email me. firstname.lastname@example.org