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.

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

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.