My Journey
Hello everyone,
Let me introduce myself. My name is Bouncy Baw. I’m 46 years old, a proud mother of four, and Nana to four wonderful grandchildren, with another little one expected in July 2025.
Life is a journey of lessons. From childhood to adulthood, we are always learning. In fact, even before we are born, while still in the womb, we can be influenced by the environment around us. Mothers are meant to protect their children, and most do. Sadly, not all fulfil that role.
My own childhood has shaped who I am today, influencing how I approach relationships and friendships. Childhood should be a time of joy, freedom, and fun. Unfortunately, that isn’t always the case—and that is where my story begins.
Another Viewpoint
Talking about yourself and the journeys you’ve been through—and are still navigating—can feel both exciting and daunting, but here goes. I hope that by sharing my life experiences, whether good, bad, or somewhere in between, I can inspire others who may be facing similar challenges. For those who don’t yet have the courage to speak out, perhaps this platform can be the encouragement you need to find your voice.
Growing up, I lived with my mum and my younger sibling, who was born in 1980. By the time my baby brother arrived, my parents had sadly already separated. I was around two years old at the time, so I don’t remember much, but I do have some fragmented memories—mainly of my parents shouting and arguing over who would see us and when. I never got to see my father as the situation between them became very strained. For many years, I lost contact with him, but as I grew older, I began sneaking off for secret visits without my mum knowing.
It wasn’t until 1982 that my memories became vivid, marking the beginning of a personal nightmare. In the 80s, neighbours looked out for each other, gossiping in kitchens and partying together, whether it was Christmas or just a regular weekend. On one particular day, my mother was invited to a party up the stairs from our house—a memory that remains clear to this day. I recall the babysitter looking after my little brother and me, and the music thumping from above; I was four years old at the time. That night is etched in my mind forever, as it was when my mother brought my abuser into our home, changing my world irrevocably.
There are many forms of abuse and I, myself have lived through sexual, mental, and physical abuse from the age of 4 until the age of 12. Alcohol addiction was a huge issue with my mother and her partner (mother never touched a drop until she met him) from then on abuse just seemed to be normal, day-to-day stuff for me. By the age of six, in 1984, another sibling joined our family—a beautiful baby brother I adored. However, the happiness was short-lived and merely a facade. As the eldest sister, I became a parent to both my brothers while our mother and her partner went out drinking and socialising. We were often left standing outside pubs from noon until night, hungry and scared, sometimes pacified with a bag of chips if we remained quiet. It was a dreadful experience, but as children, we knew no different. Most nights, after closing time, the abuse would begin for me. At times it would just be physical and that in itself wasn’t normal I can still remember the big white belt that was used to smack my bottom with always the buckle end until I began to bleed. I was a child, a baby and my mother participated in the actions. It went on for many years from 4 until finally I was removed from the home by social services in the year 1990, I was 12 years old and completely scared from then on in but I AM a survivor, not a victim.
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