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Survivor story, submitted by Ruby
I didn’t know it was sexual abuse at the time. I was so young and had never been taught what sexual experiences were or what consent meant. All I knew was that I felt uncomfortable, but at ten years old, I couldn’t make sense of why. I didn’t have the understanding or language to name what was happening to me, or to recognise that it was wrong.
I never told any adults, mostly because I didn’t have anyone I truly trusted or believed would understand. So I carried it quietly for years.
When I was seventeen, I finally spoke about it for the first time to a counsellor. She listened with warmth and patience, and I still remember how she offered me cheese and crackers during our session. That simple act became a small but meaningful symbol of care for me. She told me that how I chose to respond to what had happened was entirely my choice -that whether I wanted to share my story or simply move forward in my own way, both paths were valid.
I decided to share. I submitted an informal report to a detective, and for a while, I prepared myself for that meeting, practising what I would say, hoping to finally be heard. But the detective never came, even after many follow-ups. Each time I was told she would come, and each time she didn’t. It left me disheartened, and I began to lose some trust in the system that was supposed to help.
During that time in my life, I often felt uneasy around men. I didn’t always understand why, but my body reacted before my mind could catch up. When I had to be taken to the hospital by paramedics once, I remember specifically asking to only speak with the female paramedics. A similar thing happened when the police were called for another matter. Two male officers arrived, but I couldn’t bring myself to speak to them. I asked for a female officer instead, and only when she came did I feel able to talk. Looking back, I see those choices as small acts of self-protection, ways of creating safety for myself when I hadn’t yet learned what safety meant.
When I was twenty, I opened up again, this time to another counsellor. She reminded me that what happened was not my fault. That conversation helped me release years of guilt and silence. Allowing myself to cry and speak freely about it felt like a turning point – a moment where healing truly began to take shape.
Since then, I’ve been learning what safe and respectful experiences look like. Understanding consent, exploring my own boundaries, and allowing myself to experience trust again have all been deeply healing. These lessons have helped me reclaim a sense of safety in my own body and hope for the future.
Healing hasn’t been a straight line, but each step, every conversation, every moment of self-awareness, has brought me closer to peace. I now know that while I can’t change what happened, I can choose how I move forward. And that choice, more than anything, has been empowering.
If you, or someone you know, has been affected by child sexual abuse, please reach out to Bravehearts for support on our Information and Support Line 1800 272 831.