So now I am standing, high up on the hill and as I survey the beautiful town and the sparkling lights before me, I see that my future didn’t go anywhere, I just had to go on a long detour because the first path was blocked. I stopped and picked up a few hitchhikers along the way and they walk beside me as I continue this journey. They are called empathy, belief, strength and determination.

It was an honour to read this poem at this year's Zebra day - where the theme was access. This poem that was sadly recognisable to many in the audience, highlights the language, assumptions and systems that tell us "not for you," to those already pushed to the margins. The anger here is very deliberate. It is a call for change. Too sensitive 'Cack-handed' Troubled, nervous Absent Distracted Ill The world is not the right shape for you No way to explain it the prognosis  is ho

Latest Guest Blog by K.L.Manning

This is not a blog to debate whether or not survivors of child sexual abuse within the family should or shouldn't cut off all contact with their families. It’s a post to acknowledge that neither decision is an easy one. Both come with challenges - mainly a huge amount of sadness or grief - and distressing memories that feel particularly unfair during times like Christmas.

"Can I let go of what others think of me? What would that be like? Has there ever been a time when I did not bounce off of other’s opinions?" What Others Think - a poem by John Baker (The Flying Child guest blog)

Pat is a valued part of The Flying Child community and has kindly shared this poem with us. (For clarity - this not the same Pat many associate with The Flying Child)

Dentists need to know that my mouth tells a story. The story of my life. The story of me. Dentists need to know that my mouth can’t tell this story with words, as they are trapped in my heart and stuck in my throat. Words choke me. My mouth wants to tell you but it can’t. 

"I am frequently asked what book I would recommend for counselling techniques when working with trauma. The best advice I was ever given was in a simple and profound story told to me by my qigong master, Christopher. This story had been passed on to him by his teacher when he had asked a similar question to mine about working with trauma. I have written it verbatim as it was told to me, so that none of its depth is lost and can be understood at multiple levels." Patricia Wals

I died when I was nine. I lay on a bed and I closed my eyes. And I wished for my mother. And died . It didn’t hurt to die like it hurt to live. It was a relief.

What began months ago with a passionate conversation after an event with a fellow panelist, grew into a kitchen-table meetup in Rochdale. This week we convened in Bloomsbury with practitioner allies. Tea, shortbread, and shared experience...

Guest blog for The Flying Child by JoMo

A guest blog for The Flying Child by Jessica Matthews

23 years of the school run - from stay-at-home mum and those overwhelming first nursery days at 2 years and 9 months, to mum struggling...

This week I had the privilege of speaking at the launch of  Dr Ruth Beecher 's new book: Community Health Practitioners and Child Sexual...

"No, that was not my sister musician, poet, artist, dancer, sensitive, lovely, loving girl..." Guest blog by a survivor of CSA

By Sophie Olson Content: Living with the impacts of sexual violence. It has references to high profile cases. Please take care when...

"Standing in front of professionals responsible for creating and delivering programmes to aid prevention of child sexual abuse felt like stepping into the central cog of a machine that has been in the background in my own life for as long as I can remember. NSPCC is a name that symbolised hope during the darkest times. "