Why am I so open about my life, particularly my experiences of childhood and relationship abuse? Am I “over-sharing”, still traumatised, unhealthily angry, going over ancient history as some form of continued internal punishment, or in publicly speaking about these issues am I taking some kind of warped revenge on the people who have hurt me? I don’t recognise any of these reasons.

Being honest and vulnerable is not “over-sharing”, healing trauma should be (and has been) done on a one to one basis with a trained therapist in a safe and private environment, I think it’s healthy to be angry about being abused (so long as it is not internalised or excessive) and as far as revenge goes both my parents are deceased so can’t be hurt by anything I say and I’m sure my exs are so busy with their lives and current partners that reading my blog is the last thing on their mind so they’re not even aware they’re being discussed.

My intention when speaking about the life challenges I’ve faced are, in truth, many and varied.

Most victims of abuse feel alone. They have been conditioned by their abusers to never speak about their experiences even if they recognise they’re being abused which of course children, and even many grown ups, do not, and in the case of adult relationship abuse many abused people feel great shame at still loving their abusers and remaining with them.

When I was Googling the cruel, cold and downright bizarre behaviour of a previous boyfriend and came across Narcissistic Personality Disorder it was such a relief to know that I wasn’t losing my mind but was in an abusive relationship. Reading the stories survivors of narcissistic abuse shared online helped me make sense of my own experience and to realise I wasn’t weak, stupid or lacking self worth by repeatedly going back to this man. I both lacked knowledge of his disorder and was acutely trauma bonded, my brain having been literally reprogrammed by his behaviour to attach to him. Learning about NPD changed my entire outlook, not only on this particular relationship but on past relationships with family members, friends and other partners. In speaking about my own experiences I hope that others in abusive relationships feel less alone, less confused, less ashamed and, seeing I am now happy and content, might find the courage to leave.

Sexual abuse for women and girls is almost endemic. From familial incest, to ‘date rape’, to stranger assault, to being smeared because you’ve said “no” to a boy who has asked you out, to being groped by drunks in a pub, to sexting, to coping with inappropriate flirting, touching and sexual innuendo from male friends or work colleagues, most women have a tale to tell. From almost the day we are born, and certainly from the onset of puberty (mine began aged 7) girls are sexually objectified. That the majority of us never speak of our experiences shows the extent to which sexual abuse of women has been normalised, even by us, and our opportunity to speak about it without backlash curtailed. I’m almost 60 years old, and in the last 2 months alone have had to chastise a work colleague for repeated inappropriate flirting and sexual comments and ignoring my already stated and firm “no” (he’s now texting me repeatedly every day despite no permission to do so) and have had to delicately cope with rejecting a male friend’s advances – in neither situation had I expressed any sexual interest whatsoever in these men. It is, quite frankly, exhausting. When women do speak out about sexual abuse and harassment, as happened in the #MeToo era, we are told men are now petrified to even look in our direction, or are ostracised, blacklisted or subjected to vile online misogyny. I’m now of an age where I have nothing to lose in speaking out and nobody’s opinion of me but mine is relevant to me, so I try to be the voice for the 9 year old, 11 year old, 13 year old, 19 year old and 24 year old me, and all the other girls and young women who don’t feel able to speak out for fear of the consequences. The shame of sexual abuse lies firmly with the perpetrator, not with their victims.

Many women and children live with domestic abuse. It does also, of course, less commonly affect men although the dynamics of domestic abuse concerning men vary to that concerning women in that it doesn’t contain sexual abuse and rarely contains serious physical violence (it’s 3 women per week in the UK who are killed by their male partners, not the other way round). If children speak out about abuse at home they risk being taken into care, and if women speak out they risk being murdered by their partner or at the very least the abuse escalating. Abusers love when their victims remain silent. They get to maintain their public mask of respectability and likeability, and their behaviour can continue unchallenged.

Discovering I had the trait of Sensory Processing Sensitivity (aka High Sensitivity) was revelatory for me, and tying it to my intellectual giftedness, intuition and even my mirror-pain synaesthesia was life changing. Although every other person online these days seems to think they are an “empath” or “highly sensitive” the truth is Highly Sensitive people are a minority (nobody knows true prevalence but estimates are 15-20% of the population), empathy is a normal human trait (albeit on a sliding scale of intensity) and being an “empath” is something else entirely. Many creative people are highly sensitive, and my intention when speaking about these aspects of my life is that the information will be helpful to both those with similar traits and their loved ones. I’ve also spoken before about the fact that abusers and toxic people seem to be drawn to highly sensitive and empathic people, and knowing this means we are more on our guard.

Abuse thrives in the dark. Be the light you wish to see in the world.