Understanding the Moment My Past Revealed Itself
In this post, I explore the night I uncovered the truth about my toddlerhood — a discovery that shook my life to the foundations. My beliefs about my past vanished into a mirage. Beyond, I could see the psychological patterns that had followed me into adulthood.
I had been looking for clues through one of my novels via a bedside lamp. I stopped and slowly lowered myself. I remained frozen for hours, not wanting to go to sleep. And yet somehow, I eventually did.
This terrible unearthing formed the end result to a chain of events that is complex and has been explained a 10-part article.
Until the age of 51, I believed I knew everything about my childhood. I was born to troubled parents and shared the cottage only with them, my siblings and occasionally Nan. In fact my rapist, my mother’s half-brother lived with us for over a year, moving in when I was 2 and moving out when I was 3 – prior to the development of my conscious awareness.
I had known no different.
For this reason, I would fail to make the connection for 5 decades. I would grow up within a house where the nasty things occurred, believing the walls had witnessed nothing more than a toddler developing in a normal fashion within a safe haven.
This blog is not about me, but about the question of what life would be like for an adult whose toddlerhood had been torn apart without her conscious awareness. I wish to share with you what my life experience has been like.
Incredibly, within a few weeks of that horrific dawning, I would know an awful lot about my toddlerhood. A lot more.
But how can I see anything? I was only 3 when he moved out.
In fact it is very possible due to my creative outpourings and the diaries I kept between 1977 and 1988.
My diaries have revealed hidden messages and behaviours which I shall share with you.
This moment marked the beginning of a long process of uncovering, understanding, and integrating the truth of my early childhood. In the pieces that follow, I explore how the memory surfaced, what my diaries revealed and how I began to make sense of a life shaped by early experiences hidden from me.
If you’d like to explore more of this journey, the following pieces offer deeper insight into how these memories surfaced and how I made sense of them.
My unearthing occurred on the 26 October 2016 at around 10pm. Until that moment, I truly believed I had lost my virginity at 19 after an innocent and sheltered childhood. In fact I had lost it when I was 3.
The Night Everything Changed
When I was 51 years old, I discovered something terrible about my toddlerhood. My discovery did not bring psychological cataclysm but silence, utter silence. All thoughts fell from my mind and my cognition shut down.I had been looking for clues through one of my novels via a bedside lamp. I stopped and slowly lowered myself. I remained frozen for hours, not wanting to go to sleep. And yet somehow, I eventually did.
This terrible unearthing formed the end result to a chain of events that is complex and has been explained a 10-part article.
When My Past Opened up to Me
For now, the door flew open. Further discoveries would follow. Over the next few weeks, I would discover I had been suffocated, drowned and brutalized. All during my toddlerhood.Until the age of 51, I believed I knew everything about my childhood. I was born to troubled parents and shared the cottage only with them, my siblings and occasionally Nan. In fact my rapist, my mother’s half-brother lived with us for over a year, moving in when I was 2 and moving out when I was 3 – prior to the development of my conscious awareness.
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| My artwork veiling loss of innocence |
Invisible Presence in the House
All memories of him had fallen behind my childhood amnesia, but they were there in the dark where I couldn’t see. I remained oblivious to my uncle’s stay until I was about 8, when references to him were occasionally made by my parents. By then, I would fail to make any connection between him and my difficult psychological experiences that I had come to believe were ‘normal’.I had known no different.
For this reason, I would fail to make the connection for 5 decades. I would grow up within a house where the nasty things occurred, believing the walls had witnessed nothing more than a toddler developing in a normal fashion within a safe haven.
This blog is not about me, but about the question of what life would be like for an adult whose toddlerhood had been torn apart without her conscious awareness. I wish to share with you what my life experience has been like.
Incredibly, within a few weeks of that horrific dawning, I would know an awful lot about my toddlerhood. A lot more.
But how can I see anything? I was only 3 when he moved out.
In fact it is very possible due to my creative outpourings and the diaries I kept between 1977 and 1988.
My diaries have revealed hidden messages and behaviours which I shall share with you.
How Memory Revealed Itself
Looking back, I can see how the fragments of memory, emotion, and creative expression had been pointing toward the truth for decades. What I once dismissed as odd experiences were, in fact, the echoes of a childhood I had not yet been able to face.This moment marked the beginning of a long process of uncovering, understanding, and integrating the truth of my early childhood. In the pieces that follow, I explore how the memory surfaced, what my diaries revealed and how I began to make sense of a life shaped by early experiences hidden from me.
If you’d like to explore more of this journey, the following pieces offer deeper insight into how these memories surfaced and how I made sense of them.