Carly thought it was normal not to remember childhood. At 16, a resurfaced memory shattered her world.

This story discusses sexual abuse.

Carly* was around 16 when the memories came back. 

Before then, her childhood was a blur – a series of blank spaces and fuzzy images. 

Carly thought it was normal not to remember, only realising it wasn't when her friends started sharing stories about their own childhood. 

"I knew that something was not right within me," Carly says. 

"I doubted myself and felt that I was crazy when memories surfaced."

That's because the memories were worse than anything she could have ever imagined. 

Unfortunately, my memories were of sadness, pain, and suffering. I remembered my father being physically and verbally violent towards my mum."

The domestic violence in the household was just the beginning.

"I always had a deep knowing that something had happened to me, but I didn't want to accept it."

When the memories of sexual abuse became clearer, she had no choice but to accept it. The perpetrators are her next-door neighbours – a man and his two sons. 

But there was another memory too, a memory she desperately tried to push away. 

"I pushed it away because I didn't want it to be true. I spent years convincing myself that it was just (my neighbours) that assaulted me."

The memory gnawed at her. Another perpetrator. A perpetrator she didn't want to accept. 

"Because it was my own biological father that had done it," Carly says. 

"I didn't want it to be true. I didn't want to accept that it was my own biological father who had abused me. I loved him."

"I remember it all."

Once the first memory returned, they all came flooding back. 

"I remember each and every moment in detail. My biological father sexually assaulted me from the age of three, up until I got my period, aged 11 or 12," she shares. 

"He would drink alcohol and come into my room late at night when I was sleeping."

Sometimes, he would take her to work with him in his delivery van. 

"It became a part of me," she says. "I swallowed my fear and hushed myself to absolute silence and suppression. I was terrified that my family would split up if I told anyone."

Carly was sworn to secrecy, and believed the behaviour must have been normal. 

"At 11 years old, I tried to talk to my childhood best friend about it, and she totally dismissed me. She told me that I was just being silly. From that moment on, I pushed it down, deep inside me and suppressed it until adulthood.

"I attempted to end my life."

"Upon reflection, I feel like this was my way of seeking indirect help," says Carly. 

"I was lost, I was overweight, and I hid from standing out or being seen. I felt if I ate and was overweight, nobody would see me. Food was my safe place. I used to hide in a dark room, under the stairs or in my wardrobe and eat.

"I felt so alone, and thought ending my life was the only way to get through."

As a young teenager, Carly began acting up at school, and hanging out with a bad crowd. 

"My mum was not aware as she was experiencing domestic violence from my father. She was going through her own trauma and pain.

"I have a younger brother who I am very close with now. I feel I was very unkind to him at times. I used him as something to take out my pain and frustration on."

Peeling back the layers towards healing.

As she began to accept the memories as reality in her early twenties, Carly started the process of working towards deep healing.

The first step was to tell her mum, who had since separated from her father. 

"She struggled with that, as you would as a mum. She had no idea because of the domestic violence against her by him."

Soon after, she finally raised the topic with her father. 

"He told me I was being silly, that I was crazy, that I was imagining it, and that I had mental health problems."

His denial made Carly begin to question herself again.

"Even to the point that it was probably about ten years ago, I still had doubts, even though I had clear memories."

Then he visited her home, with his two younger daughters, and something clicked. 

"His six-year-old daughter at the time looked very like me. My gut feeling was that she was going through the same thing. 

"The two girls stayed with me overnight, and I knew within that moment that the same thing was happening. 

"I knew I could never have him in my life again.

"I rang him up. I'd written him a letter and rang his wife. I just wanted him to take ownership. Instead, he said 'you're crazy'."

"My purpose and passion became giving hope to others."

Confronting her father was the turning point towards personal healing, and channelling that healing to help others going through similar experiences. 

"My hope was that one day I would help others, that I would hold a torch and be the voice for those that temporally lost theirs."

Carly came across the Blue Knot Foundation and later met with the founder and CEO, Dr Cathy Kezelman.

"She gave me so much hope and for the first time I felt like I was truly heard and validated as she too has had a similar journey.

"I'm 50 now and I have finally found my voice. And it's back in full force.  I want to let others know that we can get through this together. 

"There is a tiny light inside of you that's always there, even on the darkest days.

It's the tiny part that holds on when everything else feels so uncertain. It doesn't need to be perfect or bright, it's enough to have a very soft glow within the darkness. And that is hope."

*name has been changed.

Feature image: Getty.