My name is Geoff.

When I was 17, I was ‘targeted’—for want of a better word—by a priest who recognised my vulnerabilities and exploited them. Because of his actions, I was drugged and raped by him and two other priests. Back then, all I wanted was to become a pilot, and I spent every possible weekend at the local airport, where the Scout Association had access to light aircraft. One of its pilots was one of the priests who turned my life inside out. At the time, I was unaware of his modus operandi: he targeted young men who were, let’s just say, vulnerable.

He would take me flying, and I was absolutely over the moon to have the opportunity to take the controls. For me, it was a dream come true. At the time, I wasn’t close to my dad, and this ‘person’ was giving me some of the attention I had missed from him. On the day of the rape, we flew for a couple of hours. We then returned to the church, ate lunch and drank a couple of glasses of wine. When I awoke several hours later, I knew what had happened. My world had changed forever.

The catalyst for disclosing my abuse came when I read a news article reporting that the priest was under police investigation for similar offences in schools and within the Scout Association. Even though the newspaper didn’t mention his name, I knew who it was straight away. This gave me the courage to contact the investigators and tell my story. I knew I wasn’t alone. This was the first time I had told anyone what had happened to me 10 years earlier.  

The investigating police officer who took my report put me in touch with a counselling service that specialised in rape and sexual abuse. The counsellor was amazing and together we worked out a treatment plan. The plan involved seeing medical practitioners for my physical injuries, psychologists and psychiatrists for the psychological effects, and receiving holistic treatments for spiritual healing, including Reiki and kinesiology.

I have developed many coping mechanisms and strategies to navigate the healing process. The first involves being kind to myself, accepting that what happened was not my fault and reminding myself that it does not define me. I try to meditate daily to clear my mind and focus on what is important to me. It doesn’t always happen, but at least I give it a crack. Although I know that exercise and diet are important parts of healing, I haven’t always been as successful with them as I’d hoped. Accepting that there will always be ups and downs on the healing journey has also helped.

I have also used negative coping mechanisms in the past. I hit the booze and followed a not-so-healthy diet, and that didn’t work out too well. These choices increased some risky behaviours and had other consequences: poor physical health, further harm to my mental health, financial difficulties and problems in my relationships.

I have found that ink therapy—tattoos—can be a useful coping strategy, although it may not work for everyone.  All my tattoos tell a positive story. On my left arm, I have a series of arrows and a moral compass. The arrows represent the paths we choose in life. Like an arrow, we sometimes need to be pulled back before we can move forward.

On my right forearm, I have a tattoo of Archangel Michael—the protector—with the words ‘honour, courage and commitment’ written in Latin. There are a few others, and they all have positive meanings behind them. The semicolon on my wrist represents the message: ‘The story is not over yet; keep going.’ Healing takes work. It requires dedication and commitment—qualities we all possess. It is a matter of harnessing that energy and being true to ourselves.

My support network took a little time to take shape. When I first told people what had happened to me, there was stunned disbelief and shock. Once the dust settled, however, everyone was supportive and encouraging. What has really surprised me is the number of people who have experienced their own challenges and felt isolated or unable to open up and be heard.

When Mum and Dad were alive, they were my greatest sources of support. In a couple of personal relationships, acceptance of who I am and of my past has unfortunately proved challenging. I learnt very early that our mental-health challenges can also affect those close to us. Sadly, the healing journey is not always a bed of roses.

If we look at social circles, I can count my close family on one hand and my true friends on both hands. Including acquaintances, community helpers and strangers, between 50 and 100 people have supported me in some way, shape or form throughout my healing journey. For that, I am eternally grateful.

Throughout this healing journey, I’ve tried a number of healing practices and strategies to overcome the mental and physical damage, including professional medical support, medication, and holistic therapies.  Personally, I found holistic treatments the most helpful. Medication did not feel right for me, while I personally found holistic treatments more helpful.

What I have found is that no single solution or strategy works; healing requires a combination of approaches. I think of my mind and body as a rental property that had housed some really bad tenants. When they left, they left a mess that needed repairing. It was time to bring in the tradespeople: the plumber, carpenter, builder, electrician and painter. Each of these tradespeople comes in at a different point to repair what they can. Significant damage takes time to repair, and there will sometimes be setbacks as well as breakthroughs. It is worth being patient and investing in the outcome.

The main way I have reclaimed my sense of identity has been by taking a stand, calling out inappropriate behaviour and holding the perpetrator accountable. Doing so was cathartic. Whilst there are still mental and physical scars, sharing part of my story through mental-health awareness presentations and breaking down stigma, shame and embarrassment have reinforced my belief that it is okay not to be okay.

During my presentations, I focus on positive strategies and reconnecting with myself and others. Quite often, someone approaches me afterwards and thanks me for giving them the courage to seek support.  For me, this is a huge personal win because I know that I have helped someone find the strength to take the next step in their healing journey.

When it comes to self-care, I have researched what is available and tried different strategies. Some have worked and others have not. It is important to give each strategy time to take effect. If something does not feel right or work after that, keep an open mind and try something different. Probably the hardest part of telling my story was telling my parents. From the day of the rape, I felt ashamed, embarrassed and scared that I had let my family down. My parents’ initial reaction remains etched in my mind forever: there were tears, hugs and, most importantly, love and support.

Throughout this healing journey, I’ve encountered numerous setbacks and challenges, especially when something triggers my PTSD, anxiety, depression and hypervigilance. For me, being accused or not believed is a significant trigger. Although this is true for many people, past experiences in which my integrity was called into question have had a major impact on my mental health and wellbeing. Something that has really helped me through challenging times is my support dog, Ella. She has seen me at my worst, and her loyalty and comfort have kept me going. For me, the benefits of animal support often outweigh those of human support.

Forgiveness is something I try to practise. However, some people have wronged me so badly that I feel they need to earn it. Although I try to be kind to myself and accept who I am, there are still aspects of myself that I struggle to accept. I know I’m not the most ruggedly good-looking fella out there and I’m good with that.  I know I’m not as smart, talented or switched-on as others, and I’m good with that. I am who I am, and I’m really proud of who I am. It is important for me to remind myself of that. I always try to live by the principle of treating others as I want to be treated—with dignity and respect.

I would like to close by saying this to other survivors who are healing from abuse: please know that you are not alone. You did not ask for these challenges, and there are many people who have got you and will support you throughout your healing journey. No matter what has happened, please know that you are loved and supported. There are people who will stand tall beside you, no matter what. You have nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed about. We’ve got you!

Photographs taken by Anthaea Dance in Queensland, Australia.