My Story
Living Proof That There IS... Hope for Healing

Name: Audrey Wensley

Charity for 2019: YW of Calgary (Domestic Violence Prevention Programs)

Motivation: Personal History

Inspiration: My Mother


With viewing a very sad video of the Baby Peter Connelly story, I was instantly motivated to “do something”.

At this point, I had no I idea what this “something” would entail but the seed had been planted.

Please consider this story and other stories that  you hear either on this site or at the event itself as motivation to “do something”, just as I have done.  Purchasing a ticket to the event (a portion of each directly donated), bidding on auction items (ALL proceeds directly donated), personal donations (donations exceeding $20, tax receipt provided) or sponsorship (monetary aid to the event) are four ways to be actively involved in making the difference.  A difference to one woman, one girl, one boy, one small family… that could save lives!

My Story:

Born in Camrose in 1980, I was my mother’s first baby but 6th child to be born of my father.  His 7th child, my younger sister, would be born a few years later.

The physical abuse from my biological father started almost immediately.  Unable to process and deal with “all my crying”, he callously took my tiny two month old leg, violently twisted it, causing a break in the femur.   I spent the entire third month of my life in hospital with both legs extended to “ease the pain”.

I remember, although very young, my biological father doing what others would find to be unbelievable.  Mostly to my mother but many times in front of both me and my younger sister.  I took to hiding  my younger sister under the couch or the bed to try and shield her during any one of his violent episodes.

The “episodes” would include actions such as shouting, throwing dishes and food at the walls or my mother, name calling, slapping, punching, kicking, threatening, etc towards my mom.  I vividly remember one specific time of waking in the night to sounds of his assaulting my mother in the other room, running to their room and being forced out.

Only once outside of the leg break do I actually remember any sort of physical action towards myself personally.  I woke in the night once again but of a nightmare.  Crying out for someone, he answered me with a strike to my face causing me to bleed on my sheets.  This was then cause for punishment the following morning.

My mother, after knowing no different and never knowing life without abuse, was finally given a “way out” after 12 hellish years with him.  A sheriff in the small town in Alabama, USA where we were living at the time, gathered her and her two small girls and a single suitcase.  He was able to set us up with temporary but very secure placement in a shelter much like the Sheriff King Home that the YW is currently running.  It was here that she was able to regroup for three weeks and move her small family over the border and back into Canada.  I was 6 yrs old and my sister was 3 yrs old.

My story is one that, unfortunately, is all too common.  More than most will ever know about.  Stories like this know no boundaries and exist in all walks of life.

But there is hope!

After moving back up to Canada, us girls were adjusting well.  We excelled in school and my mother was able to begin the healing process that will took a lifetime to complete.