To the little one I lost

I loved you when you were only a clump of cells. When she told me about you, I couldn’t help but feel excited. I knew your chances were slim, but I hoped for you. I couldn’t push her when she made her decision. It wasn’t my choice to make. But I want you to know…

I’m more than a victim

A while ago I wrote that I would make an effort to post something positive at least once per week. I’ve not been doing brilliantly at it. Have you heard of that ‘positivity jar’ thing? People post about it often; writing one happy moment down every day and putting it in a jar so they…

Mother’s day: Attachment

My relationship with my mum, like everyone’s, is complicated. So all the mother’s day propaganda has been irritating me in the past week. I hate these commercial holidays at the best of times, with the saccharine advertising and the hyper real happiness of the stereotypical families they force down our throats. At the moment, when…

Little Laura wasn’t tough. She was disturbed.

A few days ago I wrote about remembering harming myself as a child. I was in a therapy session, talking to J about self-harm and how it often emerges in adolescence. It suddenly dawned on me that I self-harmed long before I knew what it was. That was a shocking recollection. It’s left me feeling anxious…

Therapy today: When they found out

It was the day that my world shattered. Everything I thought I knew changed. All that I believed about my young self slipped away from me. At that pivotal moment, my soul was annihilated. It was only a minute, but it has lived on in my mind ever since. I feel as though I have…

Those things

A hundred and twenty three words the sum of my suffering On scrappy paper scribbled in anaemic biro A watery message without courage He couldn’t even write what he did to me The vast tectonic impact of that rupture in my childhood and the nightmare of now His crime distilled Reduced down to vague words,…

Why I can’t talk about sex

This isn’t an easy one. I like to pretend I’m not, but I think I’m really a bit of a prude. For instance, when I hear my neighbours make animal noises when they’re going at it, I cringe. I think, why can’t they just fuck quietly like the rest of us? Or at least shut…

Therapy today: Finally speaking the unspeakable

I don’t feel proud of myself very often these days. But I do today. I took a huge step in my therapy session; in trusting and in letting myself be vulnerable. A month or so ago I wrote down a first person narrative account of the sexual abuse I experienced at the hands of my…

Life: The first chapter

Suspended, I wait in the warmth. There were two before me, but I don’t know about them yet. I’m oblivious to all that chaos, that exhilarating danger that comes with being. I’m brand new, yet I already possess a world of hope and promise. A stark contrast from the devastating arrivals that came first, mine…