Some of you close to me know that for more than two years, I have been trying to bring the Catholic Church, an order of priests and the Ballarat diocese to court to answer for the horrific abuse I suffered at the hands of one of theirs. For 18 months, in the late 1970’s, I was groomed and sexually abused in the most heinous of ways. I have had an amazing legal team, of John and Elise who have been patient who have guided me and tempered the frustrated lawyer in me.
This week, with the threat of a permanent stay of proceedings, and based on precedent we withdrew from the case, as it became very evident I would not win. I will not get a day in court and two years of being traumatised again, of having to recall every minute detail of my abuse, has come to naught. I could fight further, fight the permanent stay of proceedings order but I wont. The church has caused me so much pain, and I am not willing to go through more, nor am I willing to bankrupt myself as a result. There has to be a line in the sand. There has to be a time to say ‘enough is enough.’ The time for looking back has gone. That time is now.
While it has been a challenge and I have had rough times, I have also learned a great deal more about myself in this two and a bit years. I dont want to spend any more time looking back. I am not sad about the outcome, but I suppose I am disappointed. Because everyone involved is dead, there is no reasonable way they can defend a case. It doesn’t mean it did not happen – it just means we cannot prosecute a fair case where nobody is alive to speak, to admit to their sin, or deny it. Maybe had I found the courage to start this a decade ago, I might be in a different position. I have learned how resilient I am and how tenacious. I have learned I am stronger than I thought.
So what does this mean now? What comes next? A lot, as it happens.
I can go forward. I can close this arduously long chapter of my life. I wont get the closure I want, but I do get closure. It’s not the outcome I had hoped for but its an outcome none the less. I won’t go to my death wondering ‘what if?’ The great Alfred Lord Tennyson said “Its better to have tried and failed than to live life wondering what would’ve happened if I tried.” I did try, it cost me a lot to do so and in that sense, I have not lost.
I can speak his name now. I can say my abuser was Father Aldo Montanari – an Italian priest from the Scalabrinian Order of priests. I can now say this happened in the Parish of St Josephs, Red Cliffs from 1977 -1979. It happened in the church, in the presbytery, in the car he drove with me as a passenger, an altar boy serving my parent’s god and the church – a place that was supposed to be safe and where those in service of the church were trusted. He was not there to take away my innocence, to force me to commit acts that I neither understood or should have had to do. He and his order, the vows he undertook, was to protect rather than destroy. He did not do that and he failed in his duty of care, he failed my parents and my family.
I walk away without an outcome from the case, but I also walk away with answers. As a result of this case, I now know much of the strife in my earlier life was not my fault. I now know that what keeps me awake at night, and causes me nightmares, has a name and it is PTSD. I now know that I have a mental health condition called cyclothymia as as result of this trauma. I now know how I can manage those things that were never of my asking. I now know I am neuro-diverse – not as a result of the trauma but an outcome of extensive psycho therapy.
For many years, I could not seperate the abuse from my sexuality, so I suffered in a flimsy but torturous closet, unable to know myself or love myself. How could I? I didn’t know who I was because I had to hide so much of who I was. I had so much trauma, darkness and pain and I had absolutely zero tools to manage those things. I can now understand who I am and my capacity to love, my capacity for joy. If these are the outcomes, then I am okay. I can now love myself for all that I am, be proud of who I have become in spite of this trauma. I will still be a bit weird about some things – hyper masculine men, public dunnies and hairy fellows especially – but that is okay.
I can now start to look forward, rather than waiting on an outcome for something past. I am incredibly lucky, much more so than others. I have a great career and a job doing something I love in an industry I love. I have an extraordinary village of family around me, some of whom have been very close to me through this journey. They have provided me strength, advice and love, shoulders to cry on and hands to hold. I will never forget a minute of kindness, generosity and support they have provided.
Many of my friends have walked this journey with me too. Some closer than others, and they have provided me shoulders to lean on and ears when I needed them to listen. They have got me pissed and drawn laughter from me over meals and cups of tea. I can thank them now and free them from the burden of updates
I have the love of a very good man, and we can start now to plan a future together where new memories can be made to take place of some of the older ones, dreams to be followed and healing to do together. He has a faith and I dont, but it is the differences that make us closer and bring us together. I look forward to taking this next fork in the road with him. A road with no judgement, no expectation and little complication. It seems this love thing can be quite uncomplicated!
I can now stop looking backwards, into the past where there is hurt and pain, sadness and unhappiness. The road ahead is exciting and will nourish me for the years I have left. Stand by for the best of the rest of my life.
I will always continue to advocate for and on behalf of other victims and survivors. I survived and I have done something that may allow another to come forward one day, to find their own justice. Despite our very best efforts, we were unable to find anyone able or willing to share their stories of abuse in Red Cliffs at the same time. It certainly doesn’t mean it didn’t happen – it just means we wont hear those stories.
So I will close this chapter, put down this book and start to write a new one. I will be grateful for all that I have and not worry about what I do not. Plans are being made as I write this – plans for a future and chasing dreams, finding ways to create those memories again.
Ive come to a fork in a very long road, and I am taking the path with fewer roadblocks than I have had to now. It’s time to breathe and start anew.
dillonpete 