40 years ago. I was 17 when I was gang raped.
Two years older than Rehtaeh Parsons, a young woman from Canada who was raped in November 2011 and photos of this spread around her school mates via text. Rehtaeh committed suicide because of the bullying and harassment she received, yet she was the victim. At the time of writing her abusers are still to be brought to justice.
Five years younger than Jyoti Singh Pandey, raped on a bus in New Delhi, India, brutalised with an iron bar and left to die in November 2012. Jyoti did die due to the horrific injuries she sustained. Justice is yet to be served, despite the Justice Verma Committee Report on Amendments to Criminal Law.
One year older than the teen from Steubenville, USA, whose unconscious body was carted in August 2012 from party to party like a sack of garbage, and whose abusers repeatedly interfered with her sexually and took photos of themselves doing it. Two students, 16 years old at the time, were convicted in juvenile court for rape of a minor.
These are high profile cases brought by people who had the courage to stand up and say ENOUGH. Not Rehtaeh - her parents brought suit on her behalf after she committed suicide, standing strong despite some disgusting misinformation and victim blaming from the supporters of the offenders. Not Jyoti - the Indian justice system stepped in when Jyoti died because she was so brutally damaged that despite extensive medical treatment she never really stood a chance. The victim in the Steubenville case did bring her own matter to court, but she has been brutally castigated by people in her own community who claimed she had "brought it on herself" because she was drunk.
The point is, if rape culture had not existed in any of these cases, two young women would still be alive and a third would have her "normal" life back.
These cases are just the very public profile of a huge international problem. Rape cases, victim suicide, "honour" killing, victim blaming and shaming happen every day. Some make the international press, most do not. It has become commonplace - perhaps too commonplace for most people to give it a second thought.
Our sons are not taught that rape is NOT okay, it doesn't matter what she is wearing or how drunk she is or how many people she has slept with before. NOTHING excuses rape. "No" has always meant no, but because so many more matters are coming to light with no consent, the saying has been changed to "Yes means yes" - if there is no positive consent there is NO consent!
This needs to be taught in schools, in churches, in sports clubs, in youth clubs. There need to be signs in every bar, every bus stop, every train station - every possible locale where young men and women might gather for whatever reason.
Until "Yes means yes" is the standard by which all youth are taught, we will continue to see horrific stories like these.
Forty years - I was excited by the international uproar over Jyoti's rape and absolutely needless death. I thought there must surely now be some action to stop these atrocities, but it seems that apathy rules in far too many cultures. The victimisation of women worldwide continues almost unabated.
Surely there has to be change soon?? How bad does it have to get before it gets better?
No means no
Monday, 29 April 2013
Sunday, 24 March 2013
The workplace - still a man's world?
I have chosen to write my thesis for my Graduate Diploma of Workplace Health & Safety on how sexual assault both within and outside of the workplace affects women workers. There is a dearth of literature from Australian sources on this, but it stands to reason that, if the UN stats show 1 in 5 women will be raped within her lifetime and working women spend a third of their day in the workplace, some of those assaults will happen at work, at a work-related event, or with a co-worker as the perpetrator.
According to Andrew Stevenson, writing last year in the Sydney Morning Herald, "... most victims of harassment are female, as are 85 per cent of sexual assault victims." That statistic is totally unacceptable, and, in the context of the Workplace Health and Safety legislation, must be addressed as a very real issue concerning the provision of a safe workplace for women.
Two Australian reports by the Australian Human Right Commission - the 2008 "Sexual Harassmant: Serious Business Results" national telephone survey and the 2012 "Working Without Fear" national telephone survey showed that sexual harassment is alive and well and thriving in many Australian workplaces. According to the 2012 survey "Just over one in five (21%) people in Australia has been sexually harassed since the age of 15, based on the legal definition of sexual harassment, a slight increase since 2008 (20%). A majority (68%) of those people were harassed in the workplace."
From these surveys it is reasonable to conclude that employers are not doing a very good job to date of providing harassment-free workplaces for their female workers. In addition, many employers have no form of EAP (Employee Assistance Program) which would help female workers who have suffered sexual abuse either in the workplace or in a home situation which might affect their ability to work to their full capability. It is astonishing that a employer would allow nearly 14% of their workforce (68% of 20%) to be potentially functioning under capacity simply because the employer has failed to provide a safe workplace in an area of identified risk.
Part of the problem, as inadvertently identified by the AHRC, is that sexual assault and sex discrimination within the workplace is not seen as a WHS issue, but rather as a human rights issue. While human rights, including the right to work free from sexual discrimination and harassment, are enshrined in human rights laws, those laws have far less import to a business that workplace health and safety laws. For that reason, sexual discrimination and sexual assalut within the workplace must be seen as workplace health and safety issues, not simply human rights issues, and should be accorded the same importance as workplace injuries sustained by identified hazards and risks.
An astute WHS adviser in a mixed-gender workplace would be doing their employer a huge favour if they managed sexual discrimination and harassment as part of the WHS process instead of passing the buck to a designated (but often unwilling) workplace Contact Officer.
How many readers know who their WHS person is? And how many of you know who your Contact Officer is? I venture to suggest most would know the first person but not many would be aware of the second.
According to Andrew Stevenson, writing last year in the Sydney Morning Herald, "... most victims of harassment are female, as are 85 per cent of sexual assault victims." That statistic is totally unacceptable, and, in the context of the Workplace Health and Safety legislation, must be addressed as a very real issue concerning the provision of a safe workplace for women.
Two Australian reports by the Australian Human Right Commission - the 2008 "Sexual Harassmant: Serious Business Results" national telephone survey and the 2012 "Working Without Fear" national telephone survey showed that sexual harassment is alive and well and thriving in many Australian workplaces. According to the 2012 survey "Just over one in five (21%) people in Australia has been sexually harassed since the age of 15, based on the legal definition of sexual harassment, a slight increase since 2008 (20%). A majority (68%) of those people were harassed in the workplace."
From these surveys it is reasonable to conclude that employers are not doing a very good job to date of providing harassment-free workplaces for their female workers. In addition, many employers have no form of EAP (Employee Assistance Program) which would help female workers who have suffered sexual abuse either in the workplace or in a home situation which might affect their ability to work to their full capability. It is astonishing that a employer would allow nearly 14% of their workforce (68% of 20%) to be potentially functioning under capacity simply because the employer has failed to provide a safe workplace in an area of identified risk.
Part of the problem, as inadvertently identified by the AHRC, is that sexual assault and sex discrimination within the workplace is not seen as a WHS issue, but rather as a human rights issue. While human rights, including the right to work free from sexual discrimination and harassment, are enshrined in human rights laws, those laws have far less import to a business that workplace health and safety laws. For that reason, sexual discrimination and sexual assalut within the workplace must be seen as workplace health and safety issues, not simply human rights issues, and should be accorded the same importance as workplace injuries sustained by identified hazards and risks.
An astute WHS adviser in a mixed-gender workplace would be doing their employer a huge favour if they managed sexual discrimination and harassment as part of the WHS process instead of passing the buck to a designated (but often unwilling) workplace Contact Officer.
How many readers know who their WHS person is? And how many of you know who your Contact Officer is? I venture to suggest most would know the first person but not many would be aware of the second.
Wednesday, 20 March 2013
Whose culture have you changed today?
Through counselling I have identified a major flaw in myself. I have always valued myself based on my attraction to men. It's what got me into trouble when I was 17, it was the cause of heartache when my relationships after that faltered because I was too clingy, it was the reason I attached myself to a loser in my first marriage. After I finally grew the intestinal fortitude to walk away from the emotional and financial abuse which cost me so dearly in that relationship, I spent more than a decade not wanting or needing a man to complete me - and I was happy.
Then somewhere along the line my heart once again overruled my head and "love" appeared again on my radar. I met and married my second husband, believing truly that he was my soul mate and we would live happily ever after. I should have known that happy endings really only happen in fairy stories.
I am once again a single white female, on my own in a big scary world. The difference this time is that I can understand my own limitations, and I have support from a wonderful group of women. Some of these I met more than a decade ago, when I was first finding my social feet after years of being a dedicated solo parent. I have never made friends particularly easily so the women I met and befriended back then and who have kept in regular contact are very special to me. No less special are the women I have met since my second marriage breakup and my "coming out" from my deep, dark rape closet.
Laura, who believed in me and encouraged me to move forward. Michelle, who helps me work through the bad stuff in my head. Taylor, who accepts me for me and listens to my problems even though she has some pretty huge ones of her own. The wonderful women I have met through OBR and TVM, and will continue to meet through other women's groups.
So I get really angry when I read daily of a culture which undermines and marginalises women, insinuates that women have less value than men, allows abuse to happen almost unchecked and worse, in so many cases, unpunished. I think of how I would feel if anything like that happened to any of the women I love, and then I think that it makes no difference whether it is someone I love or a woman on the other side of the world that I will never know. This culture is not geo-fenced in India or Muslim countries or Western religious sects or cults. It's a daily part of life in every country in every continent globally. It is insidious and patronising and demeaning.
Most Western countries have anti-discrimination laws and harassment laws which are supposed to "protect" women from gender bias and place us on an equal footing with men, but the very existence of these laws means we haven't yet gotten there. The language of these laws may be gender-neutral, but ask most men, especially in blue collar occupations, what they believe is the purpose of harassment policies and their response may have more to do with the nude calendar they used to have on the smoko room wall than gender equality. Yes, that is a generalisation - but it is based on the language of a male-dominant culture that hasn't changed much in decades.
Take swearing, for instance. In a male dominated industry such as transport, coarse language is a given, yet these men who swear happily amongst themselves will apologise if they happen to swear in front of a woman. They don't see anything wrong with the apology, they believe they are being polite and using their manners - they certainly don't understand that by only apologising to women they are marginalising women and bolstering their own belief that women are "different", not as tough as men. It would never occur to them that they should change their language. To everyone. Full stop.
So now I don't pull them up on their bad language, I pull them up on their apologies.
And so it is with every little thing that is made to stand out as a difference between men and women. Personally, I believe that the only real difference between the sexes is the biological function of procreation. Nothing else matters. Men in general may be stronger of muscle than women, but there are many very strong women. Women in general may be more empathetic than men, but I know some very caring, nurturing men. Generalisations cause so many problems, and lead time and again to the stereotyping of women based on a cultural belief of their "place" within a society.
As wives, mothers, daughters, sisters, aunts, nieces, girlfriends, women are ideally placed to change these beliefs and disable the generalisations. Change will not become immediately evident, because immediate change or contrition must be suspect. Change takes time, but it's worth it in the long term.
Imagine a society where equality is no longer a dream but is an every day reality. Do something every day to change someone elses' gender-based cultural beliefs and eventually that dream can become a reality.
But it's up to all of us.
Then somewhere along the line my heart once again overruled my head and "love" appeared again on my radar. I met and married my second husband, believing truly that he was my soul mate and we would live happily ever after. I should have known that happy endings really only happen in fairy stories.
I am once again a single white female, on my own in a big scary world. The difference this time is that I can understand my own limitations, and I have support from a wonderful group of women. Some of these I met more than a decade ago, when I was first finding my social feet after years of being a dedicated solo parent. I have never made friends particularly easily so the women I met and befriended back then and who have kept in regular contact are very special to me. No less special are the women I have met since my second marriage breakup and my "coming out" from my deep, dark rape closet.
Laura, who believed in me and encouraged me to move forward. Michelle, who helps me work through the bad stuff in my head. Taylor, who accepts me for me and listens to my problems even though she has some pretty huge ones of her own. The wonderful women I have met through OBR and TVM, and will continue to meet through other women's groups.
So I get really angry when I read daily of a culture which undermines and marginalises women, insinuates that women have less value than men, allows abuse to happen almost unchecked and worse, in so many cases, unpunished. I think of how I would feel if anything like that happened to any of the women I love, and then I think that it makes no difference whether it is someone I love or a woman on the other side of the world that I will never know. This culture is not geo-fenced in India or Muslim countries or Western religious sects or cults. It's a daily part of life in every country in every continent globally. It is insidious and patronising and demeaning.
Most Western countries have anti-discrimination laws and harassment laws which are supposed to "protect" women from gender bias and place us on an equal footing with men, but the very existence of these laws means we haven't yet gotten there. The language of these laws may be gender-neutral, but ask most men, especially in blue collar occupations, what they believe is the purpose of harassment policies and their response may have more to do with the nude calendar they used to have on the smoko room wall than gender equality. Yes, that is a generalisation - but it is based on the language of a male-dominant culture that hasn't changed much in decades.
Take swearing, for instance. In a male dominated industry such as transport, coarse language is a given, yet these men who swear happily amongst themselves will apologise if they happen to swear in front of a woman. They don't see anything wrong with the apology, they believe they are being polite and using their manners - they certainly don't understand that by only apologising to women they are marginalising women and bolstering their own belief that women are "different", not as tough as men. It would never occur to them that they should change their language. To everyone. Full stop.
So now I don't pull them up on their bad language, I pull them up on their apologies.
And so it is with every little thing that is made to stand out as a difference between men and women. Personally, I believe that the only real difference between the sexes is the biological function of procreation. Nothing else matters. Men in general may be stronger of muscle than women, but there are many very strong women. Women in general may be more empathetic than men, but I know some very caring, nurturing men. Generalisations cause so many problems, and lead time and again to the stereotyping of women based on a cultural belief of their "place" within a society.
As wives, mothers, daughters, sisters, aunts, nieces, girlfriends, women are ideally placed to change these beliefs and disable the generalisations. Change will not become immediately evident, because immediate change or contrition must be suspect. Change takes time, but it's worth it in the long term.
Imagine a society where equality is no longer a dream but is an every day reality. Do something every day to change someone elses' gender-based cultural beliefs and eventually that dream can become a reality.
But it's up to all of us.
Friday, 8 March 2013
Who am I?
It's often hard to write when I am feeling low, even though I know that writing will help me to feel better. Getting started is the hardest part. I am often lacking in motivation when I am at home due to having to share my space with someone who doesn't want to be any part of me. I am happiest when I am out, preferably dancing, but anywhere there is music and activity works.
I love the library and the museum, but so often quiet contemplation turns into angst and tears. Walking is always good. It's a source of frustration that my personal trainer has had quite a lot of time off lately because I count on him too much to get my own motivation for exercise. Time I kicked my own arse and got out there!
While I have been - and probably always will be - dealing with my own demons, both from my rape and from two failed marriages and an often pervasive feeling of general failure, I am reminded often of the pain that others are sentenced to through the actions of others. For many months I have followed the story of a woman, Lori, in the USA who was brutally attacked by her partner and still, more than 2 years later, faces further surgery and daily pain. Lori is an amazing woman, wishing to use her pain to help make sure others never have to face the same thing.
I want to reach out to others who have been in my situation. That's the reason for this blog and my website. Every minute of every day women the world over face rape, sexual abuse, domestic violence, emotional and physical torture, for no other reason than they are women and the men who perpetrate these acts feel - or want to feel - superior. There is no justification. There are no excuses or reasons.
This year is my watershed year. I have come out of my own dark little closet and become active. Small actions so far, but they will continue to grow. I am fighting back.
Even when it gets too hard, even when my motivation dries up, even when the nightmares overwhelm me again, even with failed relationships behind me, I know I can make a difference to someone, somewhere. I will fight my demons, I will fight my own sense of failure, I will turn myself around.
So that's who I am.
I love the library and the museum, but so often quiet contemplation turns into angst and tears. Walking is always good. It's a source of frustration that my personal trainer has had quite a lot of time off lately because I count on him too much to get my own motivation for exercise. Time I kicked my own arse and got out there!
While I have been - and probably always will be - dealing with my own demons, both from my rape and from two failed marriages and an often pervasive feeling of general failure, I am reminded often of the pain that others are sentenced to through the actions of others. For many months I have followed the story of a woman, Lori, in the USA who was brutally attacked by her partner and still, more than 2 years later, faces further surgery and daily pain. Lori is an amazing woman, wishing to use her pain to help make sure others never have to face the same thing.
I want to reach out to others who have been in my situation. That's the reason for this blog and my website. Every minute of every day women the world over face rape, sexual abuse, domestic violence, emotional and physical torture, for no other reason than they are women and the men who perpetrate these acts feel - or want to feel - superior. There is no justification. There are no excuses or reasons.
This year is my watershed year. I have come out of my own dark little closet and become active. Small actions so far, but they will continue to grow. I am fighting back.
Even when it gets too hard, even when my motivation dries up, even when the nightmares overwhelm me again, even with failed relationships behind me, I know I can make a difference to someone, somewhere. I will fight my demons, I will fight my own sense of failure, I will turn myself around.
So that's who I am.
Someone else’s life
Luisa © 2013
I’ve been someone else
all my life
Mother, daughter,
sister, wife
Never had my own ID
Never knew just who
was me
Came close sometimes,
but not quite there
No courage to seek out
my fair share
Held back, held down, tormented
soul
Hidden within my own
black hole
Pile on the kindling,
light the flame
I’ve only got myself
to blame
Is there no reprieve
from victimhood?
I know I must but
don’t think I could
Clouds in my head,
tears in my eyes
Always smart but never
wise
Why am I the invisible
one?
Who gets it all while
I get none?
I am a person, just
like you
I’m worthy of a fair
review
Don’t ignore me, I’m
right here
I’m not going to
disappear
I’ve been yours, I’ve
played your game
Now it’s time to find my fame
Tuesday, 26 February 2013
I'm bloody angry!
I'm angry that my life has been turned upside down on the whim of some very selfish people.
I'm angry that justices I would like to seek are denied me.
I am angry that people I trusted would not, will not stand up for me.
And it's okay that I am angry, because from my anger I know that I can move forward.
I waited nearly 40 years to get angry about being raped when I was a teenager. My silence, like the silence of so many other women who simply lift their chins and carry on with life, allowed the perpetrators to carry on their own lives, and I don't know and probably will never know if my silence cost another woman her integrity, her self respect and almost her sanity. Because that's what it cost me.
So when I feel anger now I do not bottle it, I do not stay silent, I do not keep it to myself. When someone violates my trust, my emotions, my heart, I will tell the world, because it is NOT okay.
I will not live in a vacuum. I will not allow people to walk over me. I will not allow people to use my heart and my body for their own selfish ends. If I am in pain, I will cry out. If I am angry, I will retaliate in kind.
Don't express surprise. Express remorse.
Don't try to make me feel like the guilty party, because I refuse to.
I invite caring, happy, loving people into my world and my heart - if you are not caring, loving and happy, or if you have lied to me that you are, do not expect me to feel sorry for you. There is no longer any space in my life for people who do not love me as much as I am learning to love myself.
I wish I had understood that many years ago, when people judged me for mistakes I made. We are all entitled to make mistakes - it's how we learn. If I hadn't made those mistakes when I was young, chances are I would be making them now instead of understanding them.
So for all the judgmental people over the years who would rather shun me or verbally stab me in the back than accept me for me - this is for you.
I'm angry that justices I would like to seek are denied me.
I am angry that people I trusted would not, will not stand up for me.
And it's okay that I am angry, because from my anger I know that I can move forward.
I waited nearly 40 years to get angry about being raped when I was a teenager. My silence, like the silence of so many other women who simply lift their chins and carry on with life, allowed the perpetrators to carry on their own lives, and I don't know and probably will never know if my silence cost another woman her integrity, her self respect and almost her sanity. Because that's what it cost me.
So when I feel anger now I do not bottle it, I do not stay silent, I do not keep it to myself. When someone violates my trust, my emotions, my heart, I will tell the world, because it is NOT okay.
I will not live in a vacuum. I will not allow people to walk over me. I will not allow people to use my heart and my body for their own selfish ends. If I am in pain, I will cry out. If I am angry, I will retaliate in kind.
Don't express surprise. Express remorse.
Don't try to make me feel like the guilty party, because I refuse to.
I invite caring, happy, loving people into my world and my heart - if you are not caring, loving and happy, or if you have lied to me that you are, do not expect me to feel sorry for you. There is no longer any space in my life for people who do not love me as much as I am learning to love myself.
I wish I had understood that many years ago, when people judged me for mistakes I made. We are all entitled to make mistakes - it's how we learn. If I hadn't made those mistakes when I was young, chances are I would be making them now instead of understanding them.
So for all the judgmental people over the years who would rather shun me or verbally stab me in the back than accept me for me - this is for you.
Songs Unsung,
Tales Untold
Luisa ©
2013
Many years
ago, in my youth, I thought I had some friends
but time
would show that friendship dies but distrust and spite know no ends.
Turned out
a workmate – let’s call him B – got married to one of those girls.
Years later
we met at a Christmas event - from there the saga unfurls.
Perhaps she
was insecure but she didn’t want me there.
She wasn’t
happy to acknowledge me – she made that very clear.
Again, more
time passed, another scene, a dinner with new friends – not to be…
Yes, I know
those names, say hello from me!
I’ve heard
nothing since, maybe I should give up trying to
make
friends with people who really don’t care what I went through.
Is it right
that I am judged by these suburban housewives
who have
probably never put a foot wrong in their lives?
The
distaste is palpable, I can feel it in the air -
I have no
way to counter it – do they really think it’s fair
to hold
against me the mistakes I made when I was young?
I don’t
know their secrets – perhaps they
have songs unsung.
Did I give
up my rights so long ago? Was I the
harbinger of my own doom?
What did I
do wrong, really, apart from being the wrong gender in my mother’s womb?
How come a
man who sleeps around is called a stud but
a woman who
does the same is labeled a slut?
I made
mistakes when I was young – who doesn’t when all’s said and done?
Yet I am
judged and found wanting – so many years ago but now my friends are none.
I’ve paid
the price don’t you think? Will you
always be so cold?
I don’t
know your secrets – perhaps you have
tales untold.
Friday, 15 February 2013
Music and melancholy
Tonight's been a music night, but not the joyful, happy music I thought I was going to listen to and dance to. Melancholy took over, and my tracks have included Pink Floyd, Enigma and Tori Amos - the first two because they were favourites for my ex and I to listen to, and Tori because she has become my strength when I am down.
When something close and precious to you is lost the grieving process is pretty much the same regardless of what "it" was. 40 years ago I didn't grieve because I didn't acknowledge that loss. Now, when I think of that day, I grieve over and over again for the loss of my youth and the impact throughout my entire adult life.
I have made very few good choices, and now I am in the second half of my century with nothing but my wonderful daughter to keep me here. I often feel that I have no value, to myself or to anyone else, and I believe that my choices for so many years have been made by what happened to me 40 years ago. I wanted security in my life, so I took the easy options - even though I didn't realise it at the time. The results of two failed marriages were not planned or intentional abuse, but I still feel violated. When you give yourself so entirely to someone it hurts like hell when they throw that away like it never mattered.
There has to be a way ahead for me, I refuse to give in. I have been fighting in one way or another for 40 years already, whether I knew it or not, so I have come too far to let it stop me now. I will rebuild, I will recover, I will once again be a survivor.
Sadder, wearier, but still a survivor.
Sitting here on my own feeling sorry for myself
Why is it my fate in life to be left upon the shelf?
I know my history plays a part – I trust way too much
I need caring, love, a hand to hold, someone’s gentle touch.
But every time I let down my walls the hurt’s not far away
And I’m on my own again, never seem to have a say.
Maybe I am destined to be on my own, an island hard to reach
With my walls intact, no bridge to cross, no footsteps on my beach.
Lessons learned the hard way, many years behind me
If there’s happiness somewhere ahead it’s something I can’t see.
I’m tired of tears, tired of pain, tired of being sad
Tired feeling used and unworthy, tired of being had.
Who decides my fate, did I ever have a choice?
Does anyone ever listen unless I raise my voice?
Sitting here on my own feeling sorry for myself
Why is it my fate in life to be left upon the shelf?
I know my history plays a part – the nightmares are still there
All I need is love, a hand to hold, someone to really care.
When something close and precious to you is lost the grieving process is pretty much the same regardless of what "it" was. 40 years ago I didn't grieve because I didn't acknowledge that loss. Now, when I think of that day, I grieve over and over again for the loss of my youth and the impact throughout my entire adult life.
I have made very few good choices, and now I am in the second half of my century with nothing but my wonderful daughter to keep me here. I often feel that I have no value, to myself or to anyone else, and I believe that my choices for so many years have been made by what happened to me 40 years ago. I wanted security in my life, so I took the easy options - even though I didn't realise it at the time. The results of two failed marriages were not planned or intentional abuse, but I still feel violated. When you give yourself so entirely to someone it hurts like hell when they throw that away like it never mattered.
There has to be a way ahead for me, I refuse to give in. I have been fighting in one way or another for 40 years already, whether I knew it or not, so I have come too far to let it stop me now. I will rebuild, I will recover, I will once again be a survivor.
Sadder, wearier, but still a survivor.
Walls
© Luisa 2013
Sitting here on my own feeling sorry for myself
Why is it my fate in life to be left upon the shelf?
I know my history plays a part – I trust way too much
I need caring, love, a hand to hold, someone’s gentle touch.
But every time I let down my walls the hurt’s not far away
And I’m on my own again, never seem to have a say.
Maybe I am destined to be on my own, an island hard to reach
With my walls intact, no bridge to cross, no footsteps on my beach.
Lessons learned the hard way, many years behind me
If there’s happiness somewhere ahead it’s something I can’t see.
I’m tired of tears, tired of pain, tired of being sad
Tired feeling used and unworthy, tired of being had.
Who decides my fate, did I ever have a choice?
Does anyone ever listen unless I raise my voice?
Sitting here on my own feeling sorry for myself
Why is it my fate in life to be left upon the shelf?
I know my history plays a part – the nightmares are still there
All I need is love, a hand to hold, someone to really care.
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