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    30th Anniversary Blogs - Bullied for Safeguarding Volunteers!

    Today's blog is about an important series of events that became the catalyst for my blog, 'Roaming Brit.' Ten years ago, in 2015, along with my husband Darrell, I was a victim of sustained bullying, from people who worked for one of the oldest charities in the World. This period was the most distressing and abusive time in our relationship together. Even today, I still suffer from the effects of a phase, that will forever remain a part of my psyche. I will always carry the burden of torment around with me. It was quite simply an interval, a glitch, that was responsible for a change in our circumstances, that we are still living through today, despite the memories finally fading into the background.

    Bullying is something you think only occurs in childhood, but when it happens in your mid-forties, you can't believe what is actually transpiring before your very eyes. Both Darrell and I, were working alongside one another as Managers, for a large NGO on the south coast of England. Both of us thoroughly enjoyed our positions, especially working with the volunteers who worked for us. I was always taught, from an early age, to look after and protect the most vulnerable people in society. As a Manager for a charity, it was part of my remit and something I was very aware of, every day I went to work.

    You can imagine my horror, when two of Darrell's paid employees, began targeting and abusing a particularly defenseless member of his volunteer team. He naturally asked me for advice. We were both in the same positions at work and as a Manager it is something we had to deal with on rare occasions. I suggested he report it as a safeguarding issue and the HR department would do the rest. I had no reason to expect anything different. Furthermore, I felt sure the organisation would do all it could to protect, the individual concerned — how wrong I was!

    Not only did the charity do nothing to support Darrell or the victim, but those responsible started bullying Darrell as a result. From attacks on personal property, to homophobic abuse and attacks at work, the abuse was relentless. Darrell became ill, withdrawn, and his mental health became a source of concern. As someone who had worked for the charity longer than him, I decided to do what I could to help.

    Despite doing my best to intervene, I was also dealing with a safeguarding issue at my own place of work, which was also being disregarded by my boss. Later, a former colleague also began to attack me personally, and it appeared on the surface, at least, that both of us were being singled out for protecting others.

    With no support from our mutual boss, within a short space of time, we both became ill. We were advised to stay away from work, for our own health and wellbeing. Our mental health was in tatters, as we sought answers as to why nothing was being done to protect us and others. I contacted helplines and organisations who could help. I spoke with my union, ASDAW and anti bullying charities, including 'Solent Mind' based in Southampton. All of them said the same thing, we were being targeted for safeguarding others and as they dug deeper, under the surface, our sexuality was also a factor as well. I can't describe the feeling you get, when you realise you are being mistreated, for just doing the right thing. It hits you head long, like a brick in the face.

    For a year we suffered, while still trying to find answers as to why we were being ignored. Despite returning to work for a brief period, in the end, just before our wedding in 2015, we both decided to pack up, sell up and leave the UK for good. Every professional organisation we talked to, said this was the right thing to do. The sociopathic nature of what we endured, would never stop until we made the decision to walk away, from the sinister nature of mistreatment we were dealing with. It took a while, but finally, after talking to family, friends and professionals, we left for a new life in Spain.

    My last day at the charity was tinged with sadness, leaving the volunteers behind. We had built up a great rapport over the years, and they were a big part of my life. The Head of HR came in, to try to draw a line under this sorry chapter, and we both spoke candidly about just what had happened. She agreed the way I was treated was a disgrace, but said there wasn't much the charity could do, since its reputation was at stake. Despite knowing just how malevolent and malicious those involved had been towards us and many others, (We weren't the first) there was very little she could do. The primary person responsible was a known bully and abuser, and she had done this many times before.

    ​Our new life in Spain was a breath of fresh air. We had a new, strong and altruistic network of friends and colleagues and an even bigger group of Expats, who helped us begin the transition from turmoil to tranquillity. We were both as happy as we could be and loving every day again on the beautiful Costa Blanca. Smiles returned to both our faces as we finally escaped the pain we left behind.

    Despite writing about my experiences as often as I could, answering emails and messages from readers who were also suffering from bullying, we both enjoyed a happy existence in Spain. I received many cries for help over the two years I was living in Gran Alacant, even from those who actually worked at the charity I once held in such high regard. These were the hardest messages to reply to, and I just gave them the advice that was given to me — Never try to beat a sociopath, you will always fail!

    Personal tragedy ended our time in Spain all too quickly. While sat surrounded by packing boxes in the lounge of our villa in Puerto Marino, I received an unexpected call. The Charity Commission was investigating the charity I had worked for and wanted to hear my side of the story. I was finally given an opportunity to give mine and Darrell's side of the events that brought us to Spain; it was a vindication of everything we had gone through — finally someone was listening to us. 

    I never found out the results of the enquiry. However, I finally realised that many others in the UK and further afield, had also suffered at the hands of people who had no place working with vulnerable people. I was made aware that changes would take place. Although nothing could be done to save mine and Darrell's careers, we were helping the commission compile evidence, against people who were distinctly corrupt and disturbing in nature, and for that they were truly grateful.

    Since then, I haven't thought about that terrible time in 2015 too much. I do have days when the pain resurfaces, and I do suffer with severe anxiety every day, but my life is so much better now than it ever has been. In a way, the success I enjoy ten years later, is all down to the bullies who gave us such a hard time. So I suppose I should finally take the opportunity to thank them, for affording us the life we enjoy in Australia. So thank you — I hope you are also enjoying the fruits of your labour as well.

    During the 30 years we have been together, neither of us have experienced blatant bullying and abuse. As I look back over our years together, it is painful to relive such painful experiences, but it was a time that made us stronger as a couple and more aware of the ugly nature of people. Not everyone in your life is good for you, and it really is up to you to kick them into the long grass and carry on living your best life. They were terribly soul-destroying months in 2015, but without them, we wouldn't be where we are today, and for that, fate gave us a second chance and a reason to exist again.
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    It's been a bloody difficult few weeks if I am honest!

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    Darrell and I have just returned from the city, after spending a lazy Sunday, Christmas shopping and having lunch. This is the first time we have travelled to Perth in about two months; we have been so busy that we just haven't had the time. Of course, the CBD is now adorned with festive decorations, lights, and a large Christmas tree opposite the railway station; despite the sweltering summer heat, even I am starting to feel a little bit Christmassy!
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    Temperatures have been particularly hot, compared to 2023, and I am told this year's summer will be even hotter than the last — that suits me perfectly. However, I am all too aware, of the difficulties of living in Australia, in such a severe climate.

    Darrell has just given up vaping. This has been hard for him since he has smoked or vaped for many years, but this time it is a case of having to!

    Darrell has been diagnosed with Macular Degeneration, which in part is to do with his smoking and vaping, but also the weather here in Western Australia. With the sun incredibly bright, and without 400 UV protective sunglasses over many years, he has paid the ultimate price. Both of us are staying positive and hoping the rate of deterioration can be stemmed for now. Of course, only time will tell — weekly monitoring and regular eye tests will help — changing old habits will help a hell of a lot more!
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    With Christmas just two weeks away, the last Christmas card I received from Mum when she was alive is on display. I always think of my Mother at this time of year. Speaking to my Father, back home in the UK tonight, we reminisced about Christmasses past, and how much we used to enjoy them, unlike today. 

    Things have changed dramatically over the years, and although I still love this time of year, it just isn't the same. Living in the Southern Hemisphere has changed my concept of Christmas. Oh, I still put up a few decorations and a tree, enjoy sending Christmas cards to friends and family, and buy presents for our nearest and dearest — that's something that will never change. However, I am aware, that for the most part, it will just be me and Darrell celebrating together — so different to years gone by. 

    There won't be a large Christmas roast, just cold meats, and salad around a neighbour's house. Nobody wants to be cooking a three-course British Christmas Dinner on the 25th, least of all me. This year, I will be putting my feet up, and letting someone else do all the work. This will make a pleasant change, since I am the one who usually does it all.

    Both Darrell and I remarked, earlier, how much we miss Christmas with friends in Southampton. We truly had some memorable times, with some remarkable characters; not traditional celebrations, but rather unconventional in nature, partying with like-minded individuals and enjoying the festive cheer. 

    Things are very different now and that can be hard to come to terms with!
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    The past two weeks have been somewhat difficult if I am honest. After Darrell's news about his eyesight, I was due in hospital for a procedure, that had been planned for several months. This wasn't something I was looking forward to, but an absolute necessity, especially at my age. Thankfully, living in Australia, I didn't have to wait too long, and it was carried out quickly, without incident. Nevertheless, the procedure did throw up some concern, after two small tumours were removed.

    This was completely unexpected, but after a follow-up meeting with my GP, to discuss the histology report, I was hopeful it wasn't anything to worry about, at least in the short term. I will have to have a follow-up hospital appointment in February, but for now, I am putting it to the back of my mind, along with the anxiety I suffer from, on a daily basis.
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    None of us are getting any younger, and I am more aware than most of impending old age creeping up on me, faster every day. In truth, I don't like being 53, and I am not enjoying middle age. I have, however, worked hard to stay fit and healthy over the last four years, and I am doing everything I can to keep my weight under control.  I understand the damage I have done to my body over the years, and although I can not reverse it, I am hopeful I can at least stop the rot in its tracks. 

    This week I heard from a friend back in the UK, Julie, who I used to work with at The Newcome Arms in Fratton. Sadly, her long-term partner had passed away; naturally, she was devastated. I didn't know Bill very well, but he was a wonderful character, who was always kind, and courteous towards me, and an absolute pleasure to know.

    I felt so upset for her and her family, losing a loved one, especially at this time of year. Bill wasn't an old man, but his sudden passing made me realise, just how fragile all our lives are. 

    There are times I feel down and depressed, but I am so grateful for the life I now lead. It may well be quiet and uneventful, like most people's lives in Australia, but it is successful, fruitful, and extremely productive, who could possibly ask for more. 

    When someone dies, you often think about your own mortality. I was close to Julie at work and have frequently thought about her. The death of Bill will affect many of those I knew in Portsmouth, and I am just glad I got to know him, and all those from The Newcome Arms. With Christmas just around the corner, it is so important to remember the good times, because those were the occasions that got me through my worst days. People like Bill were the fabric of a neighbourhood that welcomed me with open arms, and that is an aspect of life I miss, living in Australia,

    Hopefully, the next few weeks will be better than the last, and Darrell and I can look forward to another happy Christmas together. Putting personal issues to the back of my mind, it's time to look positively towards the future, and put the last few weeks behind us! I will be glad to see the back of 2024, as I'm sure most of you will. This has not been the happiest of years, so lets hope 2025 surprises all of us and is the start of something better!
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    Running Away!

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    The World was a very different place in 1995, when Darrell and I met. For a start both of us were much younger than we are today, still partying for days on end and enjoying the best years of our youth. Darrell was backpacking in Britain, staying with friends Matt and Jimbob in Newbury and spending weekends clubbing and pubbing in Southampton, where I resided at the time. I lived on a gay scene 24/7, my whole life centred around a community of like-minded individuals, coming to terms with their sexuality, navigating their way through life and the daily barrage of abuse, bullying and torment, from anyone who wasn't gay. With no laws in place to protect us and our equal rights, we were very much on our own, trying to make sense of the place we lived in and just how we fitted into the grand scheme of things.

    Darrell formed a relationship with a close friend of mine and despite their best efforts to stay together, life became difficult, strained and eventually their fledgling partnership broke down. By the time it ended, I had also become close friends with Darrell and together with my partner at the time, invited him to stay with us, while looking for somewhere more permanent to live. I was never looking for a new relationship, I was at least on the surface happy with my circumstances  and although we were getting closer, there were aspects of Darrell's personality I couldn't stand. He was Australian in every sense of the word, arrogant and always right. However, the life I led at the time conspired with my then state of mind to change all that and after a particularly heavy night of partying, we formed a bond that lasts until this day.

    Everyone else in the flat above Pinkies Public House was asleep, just Darrell and I sat up, talking and chatting, trying to make sense of the feelings we had for one another. In a short space of time we had fallen in love and wanted to spend the rest of our life together. That morning on the 22nd September was strange, as we left the flat at 3am in the morning to walk to the garage up the road to buy some cigarettes. As we walked we continued to talk, briefly sitting on a wall watching the stars twinkle in the sky. Suddenly Darrell mentioned Australia and how much better one could see the constellations at night and maybe, just maybe I should come home with him, so we could be together away from the pressures of gay life in Southampton. As I sat there thinking, my emotions overtook the reality in my head and I agreed, we should run, run away as quick as we could that very morning and travel to Perth, where we would live happily ever after!

    My boyfriend at the time was still fast asleep when we returned to the flat. Both of us walked quietly through the hall way, and up the stairs to the lounge, where Darrell began to pack his things. Meanwhile, I popped into the flat next door, to speak to a friend, Mark about my decision to leave. He was delighted for me, but apprehensive of the path I had chosen. There would be a lot of angry people left behind when I left, but he would do his best to help smooth out the mayhem we were going to leave in our wake. In his words 'Queens can be vindictive at the best of times!' Mark gave me his bank card and said he would put some money in when he could, so I would have something at least. This was 1995, I was unemployed and had very little money to speak of and would have to rely solely on Darrell, as we prepared to leave Britain.

    Trying to find my passport was a challenge, as I quietly went downstairs into my bedroom where my parter was sleeping. Trying not to make any noise, I rumbled through draws and cupboards, but to no avail, I just couldn't find the little black book. Eventually I had no choice, waking my boyfriend from his sleep, I asked him gently if he knew where my passport was. Instinctively, he pointed to the dressing table in the corner, but didn't open an eye. Whether he knew I was about to leave or just half asleep and unaware of my plans, I still don't know to this day, but I found the document and left the room, closing the door behind. As my hand sat there for a moment, on the brass door knob, I clung just a bit tighter, not wanting to let go. Was I making the right decision? Did I still have feelings for my boyfriend? Wasn't this just reckless behaviour? I gulped deeply catching my breath, shaking my head back to the reality of here and now. It was time to go, it was time to leave this hell-hole behind!

    It was 5am when we departed, the sun was rising in the sky, and we were ready to go. Darrell had packed his belongings, leaving nothing behind, I left with just the clothes on my back. Heart beating faster and faster, anxiety at boiling point we both left for the train station, relieved at not getting caught, happy to be away from the flat. Two impulsive young men, recovering from a night partying, leaving for a new life on the other side of the World. I had no regrets, just a mischievous sigh of anticipation, as we walked the short distance to the station waiting for the first train to London. This was the life changing decision I had been waiting for, for so long, this was the start of a new life away from the pressures of an inward looking vengeful gay scene that had run its course, this was the beginning of the rest of my life!

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