My Refusal: The Point Where Justice Fails
In September 2021, I reported my perpetrator of childhood sexual abuse to the police for the first time. From 2022, my perpetrator spent 18 months on the run before finally being arrested and charged in March 2024. In May 2024, a trial was put in the calendar for March 23rd 2026. Last Thursday that trial was vacated because there were no courtrooms available at Minshull Street Crown Court.
The crimes my perpetrator was charged with are:
- Attempted rape of a male under 14
- Indecent assault of a male under 14
- Indecent assault of a male under 16
On Monday, I submitted a statement to be read by a Judge at the ‘Mention and Fix’ hearing that took place, stating that if my trial was relisted for any date beyond 2026, I would be withdrawing from the process. The case was subsequently re-listed for May 2028.
This is the Criminal Justice System in modern Britain.
Yesterday, I requested that my withdrawal from the process be set in motion. I understand that for anyone who has been a part of this journey or following it from a distance, this may seem like an unbelievable decision. So, I would like to take some time explaining why I have made this choice. I would like to make it clear that this isn’t a knee-jerk, emotional reaction. I have been prepared for this scenario in advance due to several people I know having their cases adjourned and postponed, with one of them having their CSA trial delayed by a year (twice) and is still awaiting trial after 8 years.
Last year, I was hospitalised with a seizure, and once my physical health was impacted in new and worrying ways, I was on the verge of pulling out of the case. But after much consideration and discussion with friends and family, I decided to see it through the trial, which should have taken place this week.
I set my boundary of 2026 and stated that a delay beyond this calendar year is not something I would tolerate. I set and expressed this limit very clearly, and here we are. I’m aware that withdrawal from the process may be perceived as quitting or giving up, which is something I do not do. That conclusion is almost inevitable. We are told perseverance is a virtue and that completion is success. We naturally default to simple narratives that stay = strong and leave = quitter.
But very few people have a frame of reference for what I have experienced, which is the trauma of childhood sexual abuse through five years of repeated institutional failure and re-traumatisation. The actual lived reality of this situation is that prolonged exposure has a cost, time is finite, systems can fail, and participation is a choice.
It is worthwhile to remember that choice and control are the first things stolen from CSA Survivors, with many spending a lifetime trying to regain them.
I have done what very few CSA Survivors ever do: I reported my crimes to the police. I have engaged with the painful process from start to finish, during which I recorded two ABE interviews where I had to delve into my abuse in great detail. I have relived the horror daily for half a decade. I have experienced failure after failure with zero care or concern from Greater Manchester Police, Greater Manchester Combined Authority, Crown Prosecution Service or the Crown Courts. I prepared for the trial, and I got to the threshold that was asked of me.
Then it was cancelled with no consequence, and I was asked to extend beyond what is acceptable, reasonable, and humane. It may be disappointing to some that I am willing to walk away after all of this, and I can understand that. But it is important to remember that I lived up to my side of the deal at every turn of the road: I reported, I endured, and I attended every meeting I was asked to attend. I did this for five years through great pain and difficulty, but in the end, it was the system that couldn’t meet me, not the other way around. It was the system that favoured my perpetrator and allowed him to do everything he has done.
As I wrote over the weekend, I am no longer participating in justice. I am now absorbing system failure at a huge personal cost – and I refuse to do that any longer. I have a complete, documented arc of this failure, and now I am making a clear, principled refusal of further participation. Yesterday morning, I was asked what support I would need to be able to continue, and I want it to be clear that I have all the support I need. I am not withdrawing because I am crushed, and I cannot possibly go any further. I am refusing because I no longer agree to be a part of this farce.
For five years, this case has shaped my decisions, influenced my energy levels, restricted my life and my ability to fully move forward at times. And that’s the good days, on the worst days, it has pushed me to the very brink of suicide, it has left me dissociated and numb, it has obliterated relationships, and it has stolen almost all the light from my life in an ongoing occupation.
And now we reach the end point with no conviction and no trial – a victory for my perpetrator.
From an outside perspective, this must appear devastating on a personal level, but the truth is quite the opposite. When I first reported my perpetrator to the police five years ago, I was unemployed, I was homeless and living in my married friends’ spare bedroom after a breakup, and I had very little money. My life was in total ruins after disclosing my childhood sexual abuse and being unable to deal with it. If I were still in that position today, I would be destroyed by this delay and my decision to withdraw from the process.
When I was a teenager, in the years my abuse was taking place, I used to listen to Jay-Z and in one of his songs was the lyrics: ‘But I will not lose, for even in defeat there's a valuable lesson learned, so it evens up for me.’ In life, the only things we can do are win or learn. It’s been a painstakingly slow process, but I have learnt a lot throughout this journey.
The delays, the structure and the apathy of the Criminal Justice System are seemingly designed to break people and make them give up. Every failure I have experienced in this process has been data. It has been data that has told me repeatedly these people do not care, and they will not help. I am not a dummy, and I knew if this day was to come, then I sure as hell wasn’t going to be lying down with my face in the dirt when it arrived.
Despite the re-traumatisation of this process, I have created and helped build a thriving community in Manchester Photography Collective. I created a Survivor platform in Victorious Voices. I have a network of Survivor friends who believe in justice and believe in change, and we have a framework under construction to bring that to life. I have met incredible people on this journey, who are far from the perceived ‘broken’ victim stereotype. They are like me, with fire and righteous indignation in their belly. They are fierce and strong.
Today I am a self-employed freelance photographer; I fill my days as I wish. I’m going to Spain next month and to Los Angeles in May to take portraits for Victorious Voices. I don't need my perpetrator to be in prison to feel justice or vindication; I got that myself by doing the work to become the man I wanted to be. Whether society needs child sex abusers walking the streets free instead of being locked up is another matter – for my perpetrator is and will always remain a paedophile.
We glaze ourselves over how fast we can build our shiny towers, and we like to obsess over the houses hardly anybody can truly afford, yet we ignore the abysmal state of our justice system, our health service, our job market, and on and on the list goes for the true, and sorry, state of our society.
My final words on this matter today are fuck this system and fuck the people who operate it whilst turning a blind eye to their glaring and catastrophic failures. My advice to people, particularly CSA Survivors, is to stop looking for solutions from the people who are the problem. Rebuild and re-engage with your own community, get organised, get angry and push back in ways that make a difference instead of begging for help from places it will never come.
