Jenny’s re­gres­sion

Each month, I take a reader back for an in-depth look at what’s trou­bling them… D oing hor­ri­ble, me­nial jobs like scrub­bing the floor al­ways makes me feel happy. What’s wrong with me?! Jean, 29, Mar­gate, Kent

Chat It's Fate - - Psychic Advice -

Piece of filth

It’s 1888 and my name is Jeanie. I’m the down­stairs maid at a big house in Kens­ing­ton. I was rep­ri­manded for hand­ing my em­ployer Mrs James the let­ters that had just been de­liv­ered. I was told off as ap­par­ently I’m so un­clean that I should have put them on a sil­ver tray first.

Bru­tal at­tack

I was sit­ting on the kitchen steps last week when Mrs James’ son Ni­co­las called in. He squashed me up against the wall while his hands roamed my body, one be­tween my legs. Now I feel in dan­ger, and pre­fer to be scrub­bing floors or any­thing that makes me go un­no­ticed. He comes to my room and does aw­ful things. I’m only 14, but I know I might get a baby in­side me from what he’s do­ing. Then I’ll be thrown onto the streets.

Bloody labour

I’m scream­ing, my mother tries to help. I did get a baby, and now he tears me apart while try­ing to get out of me. I had to go home after the James’ threw me out, but see­ing my mother’s stricken face and all the blood, I should have thrown my­self in the river.

Jenny says: What a very sad state of af­fairs, to feel safe only when one is on one’s knees, never look­ing up at the world. Jean should feel an­gry at what hap­pened to Jeanie, and stand tall and proud of who she is.

Jean says: I can’t be­lieve the cru­elty that went on back then, and still goes on in some parts of the world to­day. From to­day, I’m de­ter­mined to help chil­dren ev­ery­where that are badly treated. I will make it my life’s work in the name of poor Jeanie!

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