Connecting…
8th February 2026
Hello my most beautiful and precious starshine,
I wanted to write this as soon as I got the realisations. I started writing on the 2nd of February, but it’s now almost a week. I’m slowly getting there. I wish my brain could work properly, but it’s too busy working in the background. This illness just makes it worse.
The perpetrator’s, colleague’s and friend’s behaviours remind me of my family. I’ve never seen them as a collective before, just as individuals. Seeing them as a collective made me realise that this is all about them and their insecurities. It’s all about power, control and manipulation. They need to do it so that they can feel good about themselves.
I know I haven’t really had any peace, but when they live their lives in that way, then they wouldn’t either. Just trying to keep up with all the lies must be exhausting, and I think it must be a miserable existence to live this way. They’re not really free either. At least I can see and feel the beauty and joy in everything, including people. I always have done.
They all made me think it was me, but they’d do it to anyone. The perpetrator did. I later found the colleague was treating another staff member in the same way. With my friend, my alarm bells rang with how they talked about someone who was close to them. Despite seeing her as a sister, I knew I couldn’t fully trust her. I was mindful of what I disclosed.
It’s also the level of deception. It’s unlikely most people will ever see this side of them. This is why they get away with what they do. It’s usually the last person you’d expect to be like that.
My family are also the same, but despite trying to keep everything contained in the house, people in the community did have an idea of what they’re like. They know their actions are wrong, otherwise they wouldn’t want to hide it from the community.
My grandfather wouldn’t let me move back to the family home, because he was worried about what people would say. I later found out decades later that they told everyone I’d run away with a boy. They lied to protect themselves. They didn’t care about my wellbeing. I would’ve been seen as the bad person, and they were the ones who were affected. Complete bullshit.
I did leave a letter saying why I was leaving, but my dad still reported me missing. I was contacted by the police and met them not too far from where I lived.
They needed to make sure I was safe and well. I told them I left home because of the physical and verbal abuse. I had no recollection of the sexual abuse at that time. They said I could take a restraining order out against my dad, but I was too terrified and I said I’ll be okay.
Why should it be the victim who has to prove they’re telling the truth, rather than the perpetrator?
As you know, I was asked to go to the police a number of years ago, by the family member who’d just made contact. I’m still incredibly thankful and grateful to the two of them for believing me, but this was to prove to the rest of the family that it happened. The same family members who denied the physical abuse happened, despite them coming to get me out of the room when it got really bad.
I completely forgot about meeting with the police officers after I left home. I forgot that I mentioned being physically and sexually abused as a child, in my witness statement for the perpetrator’s case. It’s there, along with my disclosures to my therapists and others in the medical profession. I could’ve told them, but why should I have to?
I didn’t want anything to be investigated because I knew what was involved in an investigation. I knew it’s unlikely it would get to court. I didn’t want to put myself through it. I just wanted to get on with my life. I just wanted to be free of it, and felt that it could be done without having to go to court.
Why should I have to go through that turmoil, just to be believed? It would be for a blood family I wished for, but who don’t exist. They haven’t been in my life since I left home thirty six years ago. I just desperately wanted to be accepted and loved by them, and thought it might be possible with the reconnection. I was completely wrong.
They once again proved that I was unlovable and unwanted. I was never a part of the family. They still have contact with my dad. I feel I’m still seen as the bad person by most of them. I wonder if it’s easier for them to see me in this way. It stops them from having to look at themselves, and absolves any responsibility, guilt and shame.
We’re seeing the same patterns with Epstein et al, except it’s on such a huge and horrific scale. It made me realise how systemic it all is. For the police to sit on this for decades, and choosing to protect the perpetrators rather the victims is abhorrent.
I feel just as angry about Peter Mandelson. They’re more concerned about the political corruption rather than the victims of the abuse. No wonder Andrew and the rest of them feel invincible. The police should’ve searched his home years ago, along with everyone else implicated in the abuse. This is the normal protocol, as I experienced with the perpetrator.
Regardless of the scale and extent of the abuse, how it’s handled is systemic, where the guilty are protected in their circles, and the victims are very often disbelieved. The problem is a societal one, and how it is structured. The powerful and the wealthy have another added layer of protection. It’s so wrong and unjust.
The only thing I find reassuring is that the majority of people know it’s wrong. They want the perpetrators to be made accountable for their crime. It is a crime, and yet the people in charge who have the power, seem to be appathetic about it.
What chance did I ever have? I see this now. It’s not surprising how my family reacted to hearing the truth. It’s not surprising my dad denied it, and blamed my mum’s spirit for putting those thoughts in my head.
It’s not surprising the perpetrator denied everything and blamed the victims and their mothers. He thought he was invincible, because he gained the trust of so many. He relied on the fact that a parent would believe him over their child, and this happened.
I can see that it’s not just me, this happens to the majority of us.
Physical and verbal abuse is just as damaging, but I feel there’s something about sexual abuse that hits on another level. Perhaps it’s because of the complete violation of one’s body. We’re seen as objects, and they feel they can do as they please. We don’t matter. It is all about power and control. It’s not about the victim. It was never about me, it was about them. I can finally see it.
Again, it’s extremely difficult and painful to see this because I’ve always blamed myself. This, in addition to feeling like a bad girl, has prevented me from keeping myself safe. I can’t tell you how much I fucking hate feeling like a bad person. I thought everyone saw me as a bad person, including you. What a mess…