Never trust a survivor until you know what they do to survive.

What did I do to survive?

I lied. I pretended to be who they wanted me to be. I pretended the words they used didn’t hurt. I didn’t care. It’s okay. I’m not broken inside. I pretended that I didn’t hate watching mum put make up on and a short dress and say ‘I’m going to the bank’. I was fine with the one meal a day and the empty bottles. With running as fast as my little legs could carry me.

I changed. I strengthened my mind so I really was fine. I strengthened my mind till pain really was something I brushed off like dust. I was faster and stronger so sometimes I could dodge the blows. I came to love solitude. I came to hide in my friends houses.

I learnt. I learnt that some days I had to be a carer for the people who beat me. I learnt it was okay to cry as long as no-one knew. I learnt it was okay to make myself hurt because they did it anyway. I learnt that sometimes words hurt more, even than the buckle end.

I turned to music, kept my head down, did as they said. When they asked me to change my surname, I asked ‘what to?’. When I saw the change come over them, when I realised what was happening, I stopped trying to run but just stayed where I was, that way it couldn’t get worse.

The biggest thing of all was after. The first time I realised it really was wrong was when my boyfriend saw my scars. We talked about it, and I knew. I knew it wasn’t right, I knew it would be okay.

I didn’t lie. I was open with people. I tried to help. I went to a school once, I was scared when I spotted someone in the crowd and knew that they were going through what I had. More shocked when I helped them.

I did change. I no longer feared people, I knew I could get help if I needed it.

I learnt that it was okay to need help and never okay to be hurt. I learnt that I could cope and that pain was real.

Then came my test. Could I survive a conversation with them? Could I figure things out with them? The short answer is no.

Please don’t judge.