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       Copyright

      Certain details in this story, including names, places and dates, have been changed to protect the family’s privacy.

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      HarperElement

      An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers

      1 London Bridge Street

      London SE1 9GF

       www.harpercollins.co.uk

      First published by HarperElement 2017

      FIRST EDITION

      © Taylor Edison and Jane Smith 2017

      Cover layout design © HarperCollinsPublishers 2017

      Cover photograph © Mark Owen/Trevillion Images (posed by model)

      A catalogue record of this book is available from the British Library

      Taylor Edison and Jane Smith assert the moral right to be identified as the authors of this work

      All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

      Find out about HarperCollins and the environment at

       www.harpercollins.co.uk/green

      Source ISBN: 9780008148027

      Ebook Edition © February 2017 ISBN: 9780008157388

      Version: 2016-12-20

      Contents

       Cover

       Title Page

       Copyright

      

      

       Preface

      

      

       Chapter 1

       Chapter 2

       Chapter 3

       Chapter 4

       Chapter 5

       Chapter 6

       Chapter 7

       Chapter 8

       Chapter 9

       Chapter 10

       Chapter 11

       Chapter 12

       Chapter 13

       Chapter 14

      

      

       Poems by Taylor Edison

       About the Author

      

      

       Moved by I Know What You Are?

       Moving Memoirs eNewsletter

       About the Publisher

       Preface

      I used to feel angry with my mum because she didn’t intervene in what was going on when I was a child. But I realise that she’s got problems of her own and I just feel sorry for her now. What made me look at things differently was becoming a mum myself: I try really hard to do what’s best for my child – it’s just a natural instinct; so I think my mum must have been trying hard too.

      I would have liked to have told my story without mentioning Mum at all, and especially without saying anything negative about her. But because most of it deals with abuse that occurred during my childhood, that would have made it seem as though she wasn’t there while I was growing up. And that isn’t true. So I’m just going to tell it the way it happened.

      There are lots of reasons why people fall victim to abusers. In my case, it was partly because I have a type of autism called Asperger syndrome, which means that I have ‘significant difficulties in social interaction and non-verbal communication’. In other words, if someone tells me they’re my friend, for example, I believe them, even though the way they’re treating me is anything but friendly.

      Friends have been a significant factor in my life – because I desperately wanted them as a child, because I didn’t know how to make them, and because my ‘social interaction and non-verbal communication’ problems meant that, for a long time, I wasn’t able to distinguish between my friends and my enemies.

      I can’t change what happened to me from the age of 11. I know that some of it will continue to have an effect on me for the rest of my life. But I do try really hard to remember that I am not the bad person I believed I was when I was a little girl.

      What’s crucially important when you have experienced abuse is to try not to define yourself in terms of ‘bad things happened to me as a child because I was a bad child’. That’s why I want to tell my story, because I hope it will help other people to realise that what is done to you isn’t what you are.

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