You may not have chosen what happened to you, and you may still carry its effects. But what someone else did does not have to become the defining story of your life.
For Linda Ball, childhood sexual abuse left wounds that followed her into adulthood, creating a life that once felt “mapped out by the desires of others.”
In this story, Linda shares her personal account of how she came to recognise some of the effects of those early experiences, reclaim her agency, and choose how she wanted to live from there.
Life Lessons & Key Themes From This Story
- Self-agency can be reclaimed. What happened to us may influence our lives, but it does not have to decide how we live from here.
- Understanding the past can create new choices. Recognising how earlier experiences still affect us can help us respond differently rather than unknowingly following old patterns.
- Protection includes creating space for a child to speak. Children need to know that difficult things can be said, heard and taken seriously, even when someone trusted is involved.
- Being believed begins with being heard. A child who feels safe enough to speak needs adults willing to listen without turning what they say into something too difficult to face.
- Sharing our stories can loosen the weight of secrecy. Discovering that others understand can remind us that even in our most painful experiences, we are not alone.
- The map we inherit is not the only one we can follow. Parts of life may be “mapped out” before we have much say in them, but we can still choose the direction we take from here.
📍 From Australia: One of many real-life stories from around the world, shared to inspire, connect and remind us we are not alone.
No spam. Just meaningful stories and inspiration.
We were sitting around a table at a pub after a funeral, when someone bought up the subject…
"Did he ever...?"
The table fell silent.
Back then, it was considered taboo to mention that a relative had sexually abused you. Even if you did speak up, nobody believed you. It was put in the “too hard” basket, and you were instructed never to mention it again.
Even though the trauma was supposed to be dead and buried in my mind, I still remember it vividly.
It wasn’t just one relative. Three different relatives on various occasions throughout my pure childlike existence. It sucked the innocence from me and projected me into a vortex of emotions I was not prepared for.
“Not again”, I would cry to myself.
But I had to get out of bed to pee, and then I would be cornered and locked in the bathroom to perform and put up with their desires. I tried to stop drinking water from about 4pm to ensure I didn't wake up to pee. Often, I still had to get up.
I practised walking silently, but if someone heard me, they’d follow me into the bathroom. I couldn't even reach the lock to try and stop it. I was that young. Even if I had been tall enough to lock the bathroom door, I knew they would be waiting on the other side to grab me.
In an effort to keep me quiet, they almost suffocated me in the process. They assumed I just hobbled back to bed and went to sleep.
Instead, I learned to cry quietly under my blankets.
Keeping The Secret
It was so hard keeping secrets.
My parents believed the relatives who babysat me could be trusted and appreciated their kind offers to help. Once Mum and Dad left the house, I knew the hurting would begin. I had no voice, and even if I’d spoken up, I believed they wouldn’t have listened anyway.
What happened to me shaped my understanding of sex from such a young age. And at sixteen, I became pregnant.
Life became reactive rather than proactive. I still had the mind of a child, but now I had the circumstances of an adult.
How does one cope? By growing up really fast, unfortunately. No great memories of being a teen with lots of friends doing fun stuff. My reality was lots of nappies, lack of sleep and adult responsibilities.
Because the people who had abused me were relatives, I still had to appear loving towards them at family gatherings and BBQs. I became a really good actress.
Secrets perfectly kept, meticulously hidden away and never to surface.
Understanding My Past
I look back on my life, a life not of my making, but mapped out by the desires of others, twisting and turning reality into what they wanted. Never asking if I was OK with it, but pushing me into adulthood far too soon.
I became someone who could be controlled and manipulated time and time again, never realising I had been conditioned to do as I was told, or else.
But I could not afford to live a "woe is me” life. I refused to live the snowballing effect reliving the abuse over and over again every day.
I fought my way through it all, determined not to let my past control the rest of my life. I researched everything on childhood sexual abuse and how it manifests in adults.
I sought ways to change my mindset and vowed not to let my past determine my future.
As I moved forward with my life, I raised five children and became a Community Development Officer. Through my work, I encountered people facing all kinds of struggles. Listening to their stories reinforced something life had taught me: adversity is a shared human experience. We are not alone.
I could not afford to live a "woe is me” life. I refused to live the snowballing effect reliving the abuse over and over again every day.
The Life I Choose Now
That conversation at the pub all those years later gave me something I hadn’t had as a child: the knowledge that I wasn’t alone.
For me, that was enough.
I didn’t want revenge, justice or payback.
I had only ever wanted one thing.
I wanted it to stop.
Life goes on. There is no time to live with sadness or regret over something I cannot change.
Instead, I choose to live, love and enjoy each and every day, ensuring the memories I create are happy ones for myself, my family, my friends and any random stranger I meet.
Meet Our Storyteller - Linda Ball
Linda Ball is an Australian author, mother of five, grandmother of ten and great-grandmother of four whose life has taught her that tough times do not have to define the rest of our story.
After raising her family through financial struggles and other life challenges, Linda worked as a Community Development Officer, where listening to people from all walks of life reinforced her belief that adversity is a shared human experience. Drawing on her own hard-earned lessons, earthy wisdom and optimistic outlook, she began sharing practical ways to navigate life's difficult seasons.
Linda is the author of So Life’s Not Going to Plan and So Life’s Still Not Going to Plan, books created to remind people that when life takes an unexpected turn, we can adapt, find our way forward and discover strength we may not have known we possessed.
Today, Linda continues to live by the philosophy woven through her stories and books: life will bring tough times, but tough times need not become our whole life story.
Connect with Linda
You can connect with Linda by leaving her a message below or via her Facebook page.
And if you'd like her book, you can get it here: “So Life’s Not Going to Plan”
No spam. Just meaningful stories and inspiration.
Linda’s story is heart-wrenching, especially because it is the story of so many children who have had their childhood stolen by sexual abuse. I still believe that the abusers should never be allowed to hide behind a false cloak of normalcy because what they do to one, they do to others until they are stopped. That said, I applaud Linda and who she has become.
It’s brave to write about such things. My own memoir has some very difficult things I went through as well, so I know how difficult it can be to tell others about the bad times.