Escape

And so I moved through my life.  I started high school in 1981 and chose to attend a boarding school in another town.  I could not say for sure whether this was my way of escaping from the situation.  But it worked.  The abuse stopped.  I was out of his reach.  But the damage had already been done and I was now merely a shell of my former self.

I had no confidence and had already developed a fake persona that I could present to the rest of the world.  I needed to hide the real me from everyone, because I believed that I had no value and no-one would be interested in the person I was.

My whole life became an act, as well as a constant search for love.  Unfortunately, because of the abuse, my idea of what love represented was nowhere near normal.  My lack of confidence impacted on my performance at school and though I was still doing well, I was not performing anywhere near my best.

Although I became involved in many different sports and activities, it was just never enough.  I was already trying to run away from myself and I know now, that just isn’t possible.  Matters were only made worse by the fact that I was no longer dancing, nor did I have any involvement in the theatre.  Being at a new school, far away from home and the people I knew, I did not have the confidence to pursue the one thing that could make me happy.

Then one year later, in 1982 things changed and my parents decided to remove me from boarding school and move me back home.  There was absolutely no way that I could allow this to happen.  And since their reasoning was absolutely logical, I had to do some really fast thinking.  How could I stop this catastrophe from happening and my nightmare from starting all over again?

Enter some really innovative thinking, sly manoeuvring and the unwitting support of another family member.  I applied to attend a high school in Pietersburg – about 675 kilometres (420 miles) away in the neighbouring country of South Africa.  I managed to secure a bursary to cover my school fees and boarding costs.  I gained the support of another cousin, this time on my father’s side of the family who lived just down the road from the school and of course, his daughter actually attended the same school.

After many tantrums, tears and arguments my parents finally gave in.  There was absolutely no way that I could put in to words why I wanted to go to a school that was so far from home – I am not even sure if I understood it myself at that point in time.  All I knew was that I did not want to live back in Redcliff.