Warrior Princess

We are all so quick to say what we would do if someone hurts our child. We all voice our plots and our plans if the unthinkable were ever to happen. We all get so enraged at the mere thought of someone hurting our babies. We even go as far as to say we would kill for our children. But what about when it does actually happen? What do we do then? What do we do when our child tell us that they have been abused in the worst way?

Some stand by their plots and plans, seeking revenge and causing the pain they feel in that moment. Some, like me, can’t physically move. My legs stopped working and my voice became silent. My mind became a whirlwind of denial and sheer agony.

Then all of a suddenly this sea of calm fell over me, like it almost wasn’t me inside my head. I knew what I wanted to do, but instead I did what I had to do.

Why didn’t I react the way so many expect you to react? Because I knew that she would lose me. And right now she needed me more than she may ever need me. This woman had hurt my baby, and now we will never be the same again...

My daughter was 3-years-old when she told me of her trauma, when she came to me and told me what had been happening to her, how her paternal grandmother had hurt her. How this vile person had touched her inappropriately.

I asked my daughter to explain. I asked her was it because you were sore? Did you need cream on? The reply I got still makes my blood run cold... the details of the attack my daughter faced could not have been mistaken. The description of the actions this woman took could not have been false accusation... not from a 3-year-old! Which means this poor baby girl actually lived this horrific ordeal god knows how many times before she realised something wasn’t right.

I never doubted what my daughter had said for one minute. The details, the way she said it so matter of fact. In my opinion a child that age would only know of the things she was saying by either seeing or experiencing it. She did not have the capacity to make something like this up!

Of course we went through the routine, reporting the events to police and social services. She told the professionals what she had told me and so much more. They obviously knew what to ask to gain the information they needed. Hearing all this made me collapse to knees. I couldn’t breathe. The shock of it all, I couldn’t even cry at first. I was so numb. Unless you have been there yourself this is a feeling that cannot be described, only one that can be felt, and I felt it to my core. A child of my daughter's age wouldn’t normally be put in an interview on her own with cameras unless the police and social workers feel the child has the capacity for this. Just so happens that my daughter did and still does.

What came next scarred us all that little bit more. She had to have internal checks to prove what had happened and who by. The screams she wailed as the doctor did this to her, the look of sheer horror on my child’s face that day, still haunts me in my sleep. But we had our proof. To me we had all the evidence we needed to put this monster away for a very long time. Or so I thought....

The doctor told us that yes our daughter had been abused, but she couldn’t prove it because what was left was a scar. Which meant no DNA evidence. My daughter has a scar on the left wall of her vagina. To me that, with my daughter's spoken evidence, should have been more than enough.

Social services and the doctor we saw that day were amazing and so supportive of us. It's the police that failed us! Not only was I made to feel like he didn’t believe us, but they also took three weeks to even interview the monster that had done this. Got to love the justice system, right? The policeman who came to tell me that they would not be taking this any further told me I was a parent overreacting to a child’s story, and it’s a situation that can’t be proven. He didn't say it outright, but he implied we both lied. He let slip to me he had a 3-year-old daughter too, so I asked him, "If this had been your daughter and she had said those things what would you have done? Would you accuse your 3-year-old of lying?" His reply:"well no of course not she doesn’t have that capacity."... It’s like he couldn’t even hear himself. Just sat staring blankly at me like I was the moron in the room, continued to tell me that without DNA evidence it cannot and will not go anywhere. Then he got up and left. Without an, "I’m sorry this isn’t the result we wanted" or "I’m sorry you both had to endure this." No empathy what so ever. This man is working for the protection of children and their welfare, and he treated us like the criminals.

Then the mum guilt really set in. Not only had my daughter been sexually abused by her paternal grandmother, but she also had to endure a horrific experience with the doctor, just to be let down by a broken system claiming to be there to protect her. If I had known that this monster would walk away free, I would never have let those doctors near her, never would have made her do those things. It was all for nothing. I helped add trauma to my daughter's life. Granted for good reasons, but it let her down, the system failed her miserably. I had failed her miserably or so I thought.

We hear of it all the time the cases that were failed, the men, women, and children that system denied their truth. We hear of these people who lie about these things but get the result that we, the people who the system failed, didn’t get. Why has lying suddenly become the new truth? Why is it that we are encouraged so much to fight back only to be pushed aside?

My little girl is nearly 9. She’s bright, intelligent, bubbly, beautiful, and has the heart of an angel. But she also has crippling anxiety when amongst crowds, because in a crowd you can’t spot your enemy. You can’t pin point where they are or if they are there at all... her explanation, not mine. She has a fear of doctors. No matter what is wrong with her, she won’t go. If she does we have to convince her that these things won’t happen to her again.

She may have been 3, to young to remember any of it, I was told. Well trust me she remembers every detail of what that woman did to her. It haunts her sleep and her day to day life.

At least three times a week I hear her crying and screaming in the night. She’s not awake. She’s just tossing and turning, sometimes screaming, "get her off me." Sometimes saying nothing but screams. Sometimes she will wake me up and ask me why this woman did these things to her.

One night not long after the ordeal she asked me, why didn’t her nanny love her? The hardest thing I have ever had to do was reassure my daughter that this monster did love her...

I know... why would I do that? Because this child had endured so much already that to think that someone didn’t love her and that she wasn’t good enough for her—well that broke my heart that little bit more. These giant blue eyes staring up at me. "Mum did nanny actually ever love me?"... I froze, but in time I said, "Yes darling just not in the right way, she loves you but what she did was wrong." I left the room, went down into the garden, and wept. To this day that has to be the hardest thing I have ever said or done. I know this woman didn’t love her. She couldn’t give a shit in all honesty about my child after doing what she did to her. How can you love someone and cause them so much pain? But how could I allow my baby girl to believe that she wasn’t loved? I just simply couldn’t break her heart anymore than it had already been broken. Ok so maybe it was wrong to tell her that, but what was my alternative? If I had said no, it would have been but why didn’t she love me?... The questions would continue and they would only get harder.

It’s strange, isn’t it, to think that a nanny is capable of such malice. A nanny is meant to be a safe haven you run away to when you fight with your parents. She’s meant to be that voice of reason in your mind that makes you see things clearer. Not for one moment would you ever expect her to be the main source of your pain.

I need you all to understand that she isn’t a victim. My daughter is a warrior. And I remind her of that every day. She’s strong and fearless. She faces her fears head on. She knows her truth and one day she will speak it from her point of view and not mine. She has endured what no man, woman, or child should ever have to, and she came out fighting! She hasn’t let it make her shy or timid. She hasn’t let it change who she is. Instead she has let it shape her into a caring little girl, she will comfort and protect you, and when you feel alone, I can guarantee she would be the first there for you.

I’ve learnt so much from the wisdom in my daughter's heart. How she has learnt the perfect balance of soft and tough, the strong sense of empathy she has, she seems able to just know when you need her.

To be honest, I think we could all learn a lot from the courage of this child. Sure she has her problems but not once have I ever seen her back down to something out of fear. Regardless of the way life started out for her, she hasn’t let it define her. She’s exactly who she is. She is my warrior princess, capable to tackle and fight anything else life may have instore for her.

She has will power, determination and strength. She has an army of people behind her who love her. She is their Warrior Princess, and she will graciously lead the way for us all.

#EmpoweredByPain