Grace Part Two.
I was nervous, as I told my Mum, I just didn’t know what her reaction would be. I told her, “For many years, Uncle Stan has been touching me at my private parts, with his hand inside my underwear and touching my bust.” My Mum’s mouth opened wide as I spoke and her eyes grew wide too, she said, “What?” I carried on, “I don’t know when the first time was, but the last time was two years ago when I was twelve.” She asked me, “Why didn’t you tell me before?” I said, “Uncle Stan said I shouldn’t tell anyone, that it was our secret.” I asked her, “Are you angry with me?” She replied, “No love,” I told her, “I was frightened I would go to jail,” She said, “You’ve done nothing wrong,” I told her, “I was frightened Auntie and Uncle would get divorced and it would all be my fault, and that everyone would blame me.” She said, “No one would blame you.” I then went on to tell Mum some of the times that he had touched me down there.
I told Mum, “Do you remember two years ago when Auntie was abroad on holiday, and some of us was going to the airport to meet her?” I went on, “Uncle Stan had asked me to sleep over that night as we were all leaving very early the next day, well that night, I shared a bed with cousin Peter who was seven at the time, Uncle Stan came into the bedroom and got into the bed and laid on top of me, he wanted me to lift up my nighty and I wouldn’t let him, I kept saying to him quietly, ‘I didn’t want to,’ and Peter stirred he was not facing us, and eventually I said to Uncle Stan, ‘I want the loo,’ so he got up off me, as he didn’t want Peter to wake up.” I said, “Recently Peter had mentioned that his dad was in the bed with me, at breakfast time, and Uncle Stan had told me about it and he had said, ‘If anyone asks you about it, say it isn’t true,’ but it was true Mum.” She said, “I believe you.” I told her of the other many times at his home when we were alone together, sometimes in his bedroom and once there was myself and another friend of mine, I told Mum her name, we were in his daughters bedroom in the dark and I was on top of my Uncle, with his hands inside my underwear and my friend was beside him, all three of us was on the single bed, there was never ever any pain.” I told her, “In our home, while she made him a cup of tea, he stood behind me and touch my bust, as I sat on the chair, over my top and simply removed his hands just before you walked in, I was around nine years old, when these mentioned happened.”
To my horror and fear, Mum said, “I’m going over to his right now, to talk to him about it!” I said, “Please don’t Mum!” I also asked Mum, “Please don’t tell Dad.” He hated me enough, I didn’t want this making things worse. Mum went over to my Uncle’s house leaving me feeling even more unwell and when she, returned, she said, “He said, he has never, ever touched me, he denied, anything ever happened!” I was shocked and later on I realized I didn’t get my new bike, and yes I do wish I’d waited until I got my bike!
Over the years I began to really hate my Uncle! I hated him a lot! When I think of all the things he had done to me, we know it now as grooming, but I didn’t know it was called that then. I felt violated, as each night, I felt his dirty hands as I laid in my own bed, alone, but it was just like he was there, it was invisible hands that I couldn’t remove! I hated him more than any person I’d ever hated. I’d cry in my little box room, there knelt beside my bed, I was inconsolable! To this day, I sleep facing the door, I’ve always been a light sleeper, ready for the slightest noise, in case someone comes in.
Often my Mum would knock my door and come in, and ask, “What’s wrong?” I’d say, “Why me Mum, I wish I was born a boy, then he’d have left me alone!” I told her, “I hate him for what he has done!” Mum forever the peacemaker, would say, “Try and forgive and forget.” Everything was raw, I was angry I didn’t want to forgive or forget! I wanted revenge!!! I felt SO alone. Nobody understood. My mind felt full and like it was fragile. Yet I lived in two Worlds, the battles within, the hurts, betrayals, anger, hate, confusion and my fantastic friends who I went to Pizza Hut with, or other friends who I went to the cinema with, and friends who I went to my POW with, and roller-skating and ice-skating friends, in this world my life was full of just laughter. I loved the Osmonds, and I still hoped to one day marry Jay. I also loved my music, this was the main thing in my life, the beauty of music it can heal, comfort, bring peace, when you feel angry the right music words and tune feels your pain. Sometimes I’d play my music loud!!!!! Other times very quietly, as the tears rolled down my face!
One day when I was nineteen, and I was again on my knees crying my eyes out in despair, Mum came into my room and said, “I heard something, today, but I don’t think you can cope with it,” She was probably right, but I really wanted to know, so drying my eyes and sitting on my bed, I lied and said, “I can cope, what did you hear today?”