Taking Back My Power



Photo Credit - andysteel



A powerful shift began to take place and with it it brought fear. The difference was the fear was not mine this time.


I had begun to find my voice that he had silenced fifteen years earlier and as I prised his fingers from the grip around my life, he began to panic.


He went to extraordinary lengths to stop me but I was more aware of his presence than ever before and the more he tried to hold on the more I gained my power back.


Day after day he became desperate and day after day I saw my freedom waving at me from a far. I would end his torment of me and I would end the secret I had kept, no longer would I physically allow him to touch me.


He had me pinned down to the bed, his hands pressed hard on my shoulders, his knee wedged into my stomach. I stared right into his blue eyes and said “If you rape me I'll go straight to the police and it will be the last thing you ever do,”


He held me a moment longer searching my face for the...I give in...expression I had worn so often before. But not this time. I was resolved to the fact that the only way out from here on in, was if one of us was dead.


He let me up and scoffed that I wouldn't have the guts to dob. Little did he know and little did he know about me. When I finally got to that place inside myself where my voice had been hiding deep within, I unlocked the door and screamed out loud for the first time in ages. He had no idea what I was capable of doing to survive and survive I would.


I screamed at him to get out of my bedroom and he promptly said 'it was his house and he could do what ever he liked in it.'


He lunged at me and repeatedly punched me. I struggled to push him away but he had hold of me and so my flight response deferred to fight response. I grabbed him in a headlock and punched at him. He tried to trip me up but I was aware of his warfare. He grabbed at my breast and twisted it hard, the pain was excruciating and I had to let him go.
“You prick,” I hissed at him.


Mocking me he laughed.
“There's no way you can ever think you could beat me in a fight,”
It was happening and I couldn't stop it. The time to stand and fight for me. The time to stand and fight for my life. The consequences were of little concern. I was not going to let him hurt me another second.


I engaged and I took my southpaw stance. Again he mocked me by his laugh. He puffed out his chest and engaged and we stood fist to fist in my bedroom.
He threw the first punch hitting me in the mouth and I felt a surge of all the pain, anger, hurt, dissappointment, fear and worthiness that I had pushed deep within me spiral out of my hand as I hit him. He fell backwards with a heavy thud and I stood over him and demanded he “Stay down,”


A powerful shift had begun to take place and it would be many years later I'd fully comprehend what actually took place that day. The fear was his but the power was mine.

Her Resentment

Photo Credit - brokenarts

It is interesting what we remember from childhood. My memories are very vivid and some of what I remember has not always had a good impact on me.

That first night that I would start my life on the farm is full of bad memories. The conversation he and she had leaves a distastefully taste in my mouth. He had not spoken to her about my returning and living permanently on the farm. She showed her displeasure from the moment I walked in the door. A displeasure she reminded me of for the next fifteen years. I was Twelve.

The last few sentences of their conversation are the ones that plagued me the most “I will have nothing to do with bringing her up,” she announced. I was standing less than a few metres away as she pointed at me. “That's ok I will,” he responded. 

The black cloud that hung over her everywhere she went frightened me. I tried to avoid her as much as possible and stuck like glue to his side. Her resentment of me was blatantly obvious to me but no one else seemed to notice or if they did they never said.

She would push past me, knock me to the floor, not let me wear a seat belt in the car. Slam doors on me, lock me out of the house, remove the toilet paper from the loo and empty vacuum dust in my bed. She would throw things at me, chase me with the bulldozer and she would take away all my blankets on cold nights and cut the cord on the electric blanket. When she gave me a haircut it was always crooked and she would cut the back of my neck with the scissors.

She would make her own Easter eggs and mine where mixed with kerosene. When I asked him once to taste mine, he could taste the kero, but he said that I had put it in the eggs to trick him. When I sucked the chocolate, it didn't seem as bad as crunching them, however the day I gave one to the dog to eat and it refused, I never ate another Easter egg she made again.

When meals times were ready she would never call me and when I would finally come inside my dinner would be on the table cold and blown with maggots. As she wouldn't let me go to the fridge or cupboards and that was the only meal I would get, I'd pick out the maggots ( yes I'm pretty sure I missed a few) and eat the meal cold. On a few occasions I noticed tablets in my meals. Squashed in with the mashed potatoes. I tried not to eat those but she would hover over me and make me eat every scrap. Not long after I would feel sleepy and go to bed, I have no idea what she did to me after that.

I had to do my own laundry and never knew about separating colours or woollens and dedicates. All my clothes went into cold muddy water (she made me fetch the water straight from the dam, I was not allowed to use the rainwater) with whatever crumbs of washing powder I could sweep off the floor, generally I just used the soap I used in the shower.

Now the bathroom was interesting, I could never leave any personal belongings in the bathroom, if I did she would throw them out or burn them. One night I forgot my towel and she swooped in and burnt it. I had no other towel and had to use a shirt to dry myself off for weeks until we went to town and I bought a new one.

When other people were around she would belittle me to them saying I was dumb and never be any good because I could not do simple chores. How I was dirty because my clothes always had stains on them or how crinkled they were. Well if I had been showing how to wash and iron properly I'm sure I'd look better.

Every moment every opportunity she would find away to continually remind that I was an intrusion.

In my own hind sight, I see that her resentment was not at me but at him. However because she was meant to act out the faithfully and loyal housewife, working side by side her farmer husband she lashed out at me instead.

Her misdirected resentment caused me years of helplessness and unworthiness. Something that I certainly do not endorse in my life any more. Neither he or she will ever have an impact on my life again. I am where I am today because of one person and one person only...ME!!

Footnote: I now eat maggot free meals. I wash clothes with clean fresh water and buy good Australian washing powder. I even own an iron. I have stacks of toilet paper piled up in the loo and always wear a seat belt.

The Protector

Photo credit - Thenys

There was nothing usual about the way the days events unfolded. It was near perfect weather wise. The tropic's in the spring could turn on fantastic sunny days with a hint of a cool breeze.

I had agreed to drop a letter off for my brother to a place where I knew that someone else would be.

I hoped she didn't think I was following her. I wasn't stalking her but I wanted to make it look like an accidental meeting if we did bump into each other. I'd act all coy saying I'd forgotten she'd be here.

I was a little embarrassed too. I was total in love with this women. The way She plays with her long black hair and circles it around her finger. Her beautifully green eyes brighten as she smiles. Never before had I experienced such feelings.

As I stood out front and stared at my reflection in the automatic opening doors I thought, I'll just walk in real quick, drop the letter and walk out. Quick as a flash she won't even know I was there.

I took a deep breathe and walked in. I wish I could of hit reverse and backed straight out but as the young man spun around and pointed his gun at me I felt a knot tighten in my stomach. It tightened not for me but for those I had not seen.

The look on his face showed astonishment. It was obvious when he was planning his day he had not factored in that someone could walk in behind him.

“Fuck” he swore.

Fuck, I thought.

His hand was shaky, sweat beaded on his forehead and he hadn't shaved for days. When he spoke there was a definite nervous crackle in his voice.

“Who the fuck are you?” he demanded.

“I'm Jilly...I'm just quickly dropping this letter off for my brother,” I noticed the nervous crackle in my voice too.

He dropped his eyes to the envelope I held in my hand and then using the gun he beckoned me in.

I put the letter on the counter and when I turned back my heart sunk. There was a group of about ten people sitting on the floor. They were huddled together some whimpering in fear and others dumb struck by it. I swallowed a large hard lump that found it's way to my throat. There she was, sitting with her knees up tight close to her chest. She looked and caught my eye. Her stare was one of confusion as to why I was there and then to concern as I stood two feet away from the gunmen.

I looked at her and hoped my expression told her it was going to be ok. I half smiled. My first instinct was grab her and run. But this young man stood in my way. I looked back at him his blond hair all messed up and his eyes dark from lack of sleep. Pure adrenalin kept him upright.

Suddenly reality check slapped me in the face and I could again see my reflection in the automatic doors but when I looked at him the reflection did not change. I saw my own mirror image of a time I too stood in his shoes.

The protector in me was always a strong reaction and feeling that I had nurtured from a young age. Thinking back to a time when at school I would protect the young school children from the bully's. Nearly everyday going home with a bruise or two from a fight. It was automatic like the doors, a finely tuned sensor of emotions to save not only the hostages but the young man as well.

I leaned into him and whispered “hey this is really gonna sound nuts but you know twenty years ago when I was your age I wanted to do this,” he frowned at me confused, I continued “I wanted to kill someone,” his confusion turned quickly to intrigue and he prompted to ask who but no words uttered from his dry mouth. I took a step closer and answered his wordless question “my uncle.”
He glanced at the huddle of people on the floor and I took another step closer “he raped me,”
The young lad looked back at me and for a glimpse I thought I saw compassion in his eyes.


Frightened and confused he stepped toward me and pressed the gun to my stomach. His eyes searching mine for truth. Telepathically I told him my story...I had dreamt I had envisioned I had chosen to do what this young man was doing twenty years ago. I had plotted to kill the man that stole my life. I had been in pain and just like the young man frustrated and confused. I had planned it and I was prepared to go to jail for it...


I looked at the young man as if seeing him for the first time. I felt compassion sweep through me for the lost feeling he was experiencing, the feeling of utter hopelessness, despair and guilt. He was suffering from the effects of another person not taking responsibility for their actions and he was suffering the consequences as if they were his own.


I told this young man the plot I had planned the term of jail I was prepared to endure the regret of decisions and then I told him why I had not followed through with murder.


“You are angry but not at these people, you are angry at someone else who makes you feel insignificant and unworthy” I paused “you are not to blame for this you must put the anger back onto the person who has hurt you.”


He dropped his hand and removed the gun pointing at my stomach. He looked at me and then turned his back to me and placed the gun to his temple. Shit no I thought not like this.


I ran forward and put one arm over his shoulder and the other around his waist and bear hugged him. I felt him quiver in my arms as his knees buckled from under him and he collapsed to the floor.


I looked over at the crowd of hostages and every one was looking at me. Stunned by the scene that had just unfolded before them. I nodded for them to go outside and one by one they got up. As she walked passed me she stopped and looked at me her eyes beguiled by the event she had witnessed. I smiled at her and ushered her to go outside.


I sat down next to the young man the gun laying between us.
“You know that the police will come and want to talk to you,”
He nodded.
“Don't be afraid this is how your healing begins,”
He looked at me and the tears in his eye's told me his story.

Alternate ending....

I ran forward and put one arm over his shoulder and the other around his waist and bear hugged him. I felt him quiver in my arms as his knees buckled from under him and he collapsed to the floor.

I looked over at the crowd of hostages and every one was looking at me. Stunned by the scene that had just unfolded before them. I nodded for them to go outside and one by one they got up. As she walked passed me she stopped and looked at me, her eyes beguiled by the event she had witnessed. I smiled at her and ushered her to go outside.


Covered in his blood, tears swelled in my eyes, as I held his body in my arms, I swore to the young man his abuser would not go unpunished, somehow and by some means I would tell his secret.