Abuse is part of my story – but it is not the whole
 

Baptist church member Patrick Gillan introduces his short autobiography, which may be an encouragement to other survivors, and a useful resource to those involved in pastoral care

 
It had been three years after receiving the records from Glasgow City Council detailing the time my siblings and I were designated children at risk that I eventually came to write my memoir, A Boy's Story: Abused. Survived. Thrived.

I had tried several times before, but I simply could not bring myself to go on that journey. Then, out of nowhere, the first few lines flashed into my head, along with a sense of peace, and I knew God had given me the strength I needed to write.

The book began with a simple conviction: that there are people carrying wounds from childhood who need to know they are not alone.

My own childhood was marked by instability, neglect and abuse. My father died when I was nine, his death linked to alcohol. My mother struggled with alcoholism and mental illness. I spent years in care and experienced things that no child should ever have to endure. Like many survivors, I learned to survive long before I learned how to heal.

I had never hidden my past. I believed that talking was healing, but writing it down was a whole different experience. Suddenly, I was back in 1964, reliving the memories, the hurt, the pain and the fear.

The title of the book reflects that journey. Abuse is part of my story, but it is not the whole story. Survival is part of my story, but it is not the ending. The word that matters most is "thrived".

Christian faith played a significant role in that transformation. Faith did not erase the memories or magically remove the scars. What it did give me was a different understanding of who I was. I was no longer defined by what had been done to me. My identity was not rooted in my wounds but in the love and grace of God.

Over the years, I built a life I could never have imagined as a frightened child. I found purpose, family, friendship and faith. I became a husband, a father and now a grandfather. Looking back, I can see God's hand in places where, at the time, I could only see darkness.

One reason I felt compelled to write this memoir was to offer encouragement to other survivors. Trauma often tells us that our future has already been decided by our past. The truth is that our past may shape us, but it does not have to imprison us.

I also hope the book may be a useful resource for pastors, church leaders and those involved in pastoral care. Many people sitting quietly in our congregations carry hidden histories of abuse and trauma. Often, they are among the most faithful and resilient people in the church. Understanding something of their journey can help us become more compassionate listeners and more effective carers.

If there is one message I hope readers take from the book, it is this: you need not be defined by your past. Whatever has happened to you, your story is not finished. Healing is possible. Hope is possible. A meaningful and joyful life is possible.

I did not want this memoir to be sensationalist. Instead, it is a truthful, raw account of child abuse, based on memories and the records held by social services from the 1960s and 70s.

The story ends when I found true love in its purest form: the love of Christ.

If this little book helps even one person realise that their past does not have to dictate their future, then writing it will have been worth more than gold.
 

Patrick Gillan is a Christian author and artist from Kent. Alongside his memoir, A Boy’s Story: Abused. Survived. Thrived., he writes the Philippa Abbott mystery series, including Ladder to Murder. He is a member of Pembury Baptist Church