Making A Stand … Again

“God honors you when you take a stand for what is right.”
― Jim George

I made the decision that my biological father had no place in my life when his violence turned on my at twelve. It was to be his first and last attack on me.

I made the decision to cut ties with him and that was the last time I saw him, although I never told anyone why for several years.

I had witnessed his violence towards my mother as a young child before he left us. At one point my mum called the police she was so afraid for her life but it was the early 80’s and in those days domestic violence wasn’t considered an issue, when they got to the house and she explained what was happening, covered in bruises, they responded “this is a domestic matter, we can’t intervene” and left.

Once he was gone and he never paid child maintenance leaving my family struggling on the bread line as we grew up, he never remembered birthday’s or christmas; but he would expect me to go running back every 2-3 years when he remembered he had children and got in touch begging forgiveness. After his actions when I was twelve I never gave in to his words, although they would devastate me and send me into a negative spiral of depression.

I went through an awful lot of therapy during my late twenties, I was fed up with the emotions being stirred and my depression which I struggled to cope with at any time being sent into overdrive because of him.

The therapy was hard, the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but at the end of it I finally felt separated from the situation, so much so that I made the decision to contact my father and make amends, to put the past behind us.

We exchanged messages via Facebook, I refused to give him my email or details of where I was living or details about my sister. Then suddenly in his true style he disappeared. Believing he had found a girlfriend (one of his many weaknesses) I wrote him off as not committed and walked away from the relationship once and for all.

What I was to discover next would change my life forever.

A year later I stumbled across a news story from the time he disappeared, and I discovered that he had been found guilty of child pornography and soliciting children on the internet…my father was a convicted peodophile.

I was devastated, full of guilt for not reporting his violence against me as a child, could I have prevented the damage he had done to those poor girls online?

Eventually, I moved on realising he was the only person to blame for his actions, he had just confirmed he was an evil man not worth the time or effort.

Last week I found a new Facebook message from him, he’s out of prison now. I was fuming. But this time I have control, I contacted the police, let them know I was his daughter, that he had set up an account that wasn’t under his real name but I could prove it was him. Told them I would be a witness if they ever needed to prosecute in the future.

The Detective who is monitoring him replied to me, he is closing the Facebook page down thanks to my flagging it. I now have his direct line and can contact him if my father ever contacts me again.

I finally took a stand, and it felt damn good.

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