The dilemma I was born in Belfast in 1965. I fell in love with a girl in 1983 and at the time she fell in love with me. To cut to the chase, she told me that her brother had sexually abused her and her two sisters. However, the abuser was heavily involved in a terrorist organisation. You can have no idea what it was like then. The threat of death was constant. I knew and she knew that if I reported the abuse to the police then I would have been killed. We were kids and we split up after a few years. But the abuse still bothers me. I’m now 52 years old. I’m not looking for a solution, I just think it’s time to either recognise my failings or do something – although I don’t know if that’s the answer.
Mariella replies You were 18! I don’t think we can with good conscience or any credibility add your handling of that incredibly complex situation to a list of your failings. One of the many benefits of accruing years is the ability it allows for hindsight and the compulsion that comes with it to examine and understand events that may have gone less scrutinised at the time. There’s certainly wisdom to be gained from understanding our motives and those of others. Excavating and analysing our actions is a worthwhile pursuit and teaches us new ways to approach old issues, but in this instance you really mustn’t attempt to shoulder the blame.
Nostalgia for a past love and guilt for what couldn’t be addressed at the time seems to have prompted your rush of remorse but it’s a situation that at the time you were powerless to change. Even today there may be little you can do and if you do want to further your involvement, I suggest you contact a professional organisation who can counsel you better on the issue of abuse (for example, victimsupport.org.uk).
You’re wrong about only one thing in your letter and that’s your fear that I might not understand those dark days of terror and sectarian violence. I was a child in Ireland during the 1970s and it was impossible to avoid the impact of the dark cloud hanging over that verdant island. Despite living in the peaceful Republic, where violence was generally not in evidence, conflict still invaded our lives. One of our favourite childhood pastimes involved creating a border in the wilderness behind our garden and dividing it into the Lower and Upper Falls (after the divided street in Belfast of the same name) so we could commence battle. Our well-to-do neighbours housed children sent for a respite from the violence of their daily lives, but they were so conditioned by the terrorism they endured that again our games involved endless skirmishes. They were benign pursuits in the face of the reality; the threat of repercussions, torture and murder that seeped into the consciousness of the entire nation, making normal life a struggle.
The terror sown by all parties may seem a distant nightmare but the legacy lingers among communities and individual victims for whom justice has not been accessible. Your one-time girlfriend’s experience will be one of those stories, swept under the carpet to avoid opening old wounds and perhaps through fear of what else might emerge. There’s nothing you could have done then and little you can do now to alleviate her suffering.
Nevertheless there’s every possibility that you’re not the only one ruminating on that period in your lives. Now at a similar age, your ex may also be preoccupied with memories of that childhood abuse. Do you know where she is and what has become of her? A simple act of friendship in reconnecting with her could be a positive gesture of kindness. The opportunity to talk things through could be beneficial and at the very least would be an opportunity to let her know you’re there for her.
The victims of conflict are always the innocents on the sidelines, most frequently women. Your former girlfriend and her family have no doubt been devastated by the abuse, an enduring agony exacerbated by the fact it took place in a traumatised community where such acts might be dismissed as collateral damage. The failure in Northern Ireland to address the crimes of the past and attempt some form of truth and reconciliation has left many victims without closure, and unable to break their silence or share their pain.
Too many men of violence have seen their actions go unexposed and unpunished. Even in normal societies, without the threat of violent reprisal, perpetrators of abuse often get away with their crimes. In a frightened community, riven by sectarian violence, it’s even harder to confront the perpetrators. The fact that you still dwell on this woman’s experience is reason enough to hold out the hand of friendship. It may be that she has found a way to reconcile with the events of her childhood so whether she chooses to grasp it will be up to her. Making yourself available to her is probably the most beneficial thing you can do and, while you may not be received with enthusiasm, instead of regretting what was impossible in the past it allows you to take positive action when you could finally be in a position to help. Thank you for writing to me about such a difficult subject.
• If you have a dilemma, send a brief email to mariella.frostrup@observer.co.uk. Follow her on Twitter @mariellaf1