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Journeys of Hope - Veronica's Journey

Veronica Swain - I Am Not Alone Anymore

I’m the luckiest person I know. I’ve lived to see the dream of my lifetime come true. My childhood was a cesspool of sickness. My father was evil and insane. He sexually, mentally and physically abused my sisters, my mother, and me. At a very young age, I accepted the fact that he was crazy and that I could not control or accept responsibility for that – that I had simply had the bad luck to be born into a sick situation. When I was little, there was very little discussion about sexual abuse or family violence. Even so, I was outraged by my father’s criminal behavior and was pretty outspoken about what was happening in our family. Of the few times I got the courage to reach out, no adult ever stepped forward to help me. The uniform response I received was, in essence, “Oh, wow, that’s terrible — but I don’t know what I can do to help. No one can and will protect you. You just have to try to survive and, if you do, get out when you can.” My father was arrested 15 times for rape, child sexual assault, ABHAN, indecent exposure, and drug-related crimes. He was the stereotypical sociopath- controlling, smoothly manipulative, handsome, charming, and very dangerous. He was never held in jail for longer than a few months. I was 13 when two things happened to change my life. One night, in front of his three daughters, my father severely beat my mom, then shot his own business partner in our front yard. As my father was wrestled to the ground and handcuffed in front of our neighbors, I felt embarrassed but relieved. Our problem was “public” now; police had finally taken control of the maniac in our house and put him where he belonged -- we were safe! To my shock, he got away with even that: he was let out the next day. His business partner refused to press charges because he was afraid for his life. My mother left him then for the first time. We moved in with my grandparents and had our first taste of “normalcy.” It took about six months of being stalked, threatened, cajoled and harassed for her to give in and return to him. About this same time I read an article in a newspaper that a rapist had boasted, immediately before his release from prison, that he would kidnap, rape and kill a child as soon as he was let out – and he did. The police commented that there was nothing that could have been done to prevent it – that they had to wait until the rapist GOT CAUGHT committing a crime until they could re-arrest him and protect the community. I decided that I would seek vengeance on criminals, beginning with my father. I changed overnight. I was an outgoing, irreverent, seemingly happy teenager at school; at home, I planned ways to kill my father. As my father became more controlling and abusive, I fought him relentlessly, every single day. I lived my life for one reason: to become a physical example to my mom and sisters of how to stand up against unjust treatment. I felt that God abandoned me. I was filled with hatred. I felt absolutely, bleakly alone. My two sisters and I had always been each others’ best friends and lifelines, and “mothering” them kept me going. I tried hard to be the best at all I did, to be tough, smart and strong; to show my sisters how to survive. But I felt very alone. My biggest goal was to have my own family, and to treat my children the way I’d wanted to be treated. I was sick and tired of hearing how children from abusive homes grow up and “live what they learn.” As is typical in my situation, I married young (20) — however, my husband turned out to be a wonderful guy and, against all odds, we began a healing, peaceful, loving marriage, and had a son and a daughter in the next two years. I loved our family and our life so much -- but still, at times I felt very alone. After staying home to raise my children for a few years, I received an offer to work at the Attorney General’s Office for the Chief of Criminal Prosecution. During those 8 years, learning the ins and outs of the criminal justice system, I developed strong bonds with police officers from across the state - judges, lawyers, legislators and key figures in state agencies. I was in my element -- helping put the bad guys behind bars. Something clicked with me when Sherie Carney, a "victim advocate" who worked in our office, explained victim advocacy to me. Maybe it was her passion and commitment for the work -- or maybe it was my own innate desire to change lives. Sherie encouraged me to work in the field, and I was absolutely dying to begin. She introduced me to an amazing lady named Laura Hudson, one of her best friends, who had been working with Sherie in the trenches of advocacy for years. I decided to write a grant to bolster the new law providing for civil commitment for sexual predators. I got up my nerve to call Laura Hudson to run the idea by her. Laura was a personal hero to me. This was a lady who had had no particular special training to change her world; just a fierce desire, guts and a mouth that never shied from speaking the truth. This was a lady whom I looked to as my mentor. I prayed that she would think I was capable of taking on the challenge of writing this grant. Long story short, this is what brings me to you today, through South Carolina Victim Assistance Network. As I consider my life, I get enormous pleasure at laughing at myself when I remember how I thought that God had forgotten about me. I hope you can all read between the lines of this story and see as clearly as I do how He shot me straight down my life’s path and brought me to the work we do. He provided everything I ever needed for my spiritual survival -- my sisters, and my husband of twenty years, Micah. Until I met him, I never really believed that men could be loving, kind and fair. At my first Victims Rights Week last May, I heard some amazing stories of courage from people who have taken devastating tragedies in their lives and turned them into meaningful, positive experiences by using their wisdom, gained from experience, to help others. As I heard those people express so eloquently my own deepest feelings, it hit me like a ton of bricks, and with a ton of tears -- I’m not alone any more. -----Veronica Swain