A few years ago after I was very badly scared by a burglary I got the opportunity to meet the lad as part of a restorative justice process. He'd nicked a lot of stuff and flogged it (what upset me was the stuff that was my grannies and my mums both long dead at that point) and made a bit of a mess of the house and left notes saying when he was coming back etc. I lived on my own and normally I'm a brave thing but was shaken by it as he seemed to know a bit too much about when I was in and not.
When I faced him I felt very much as though all my anger and fear dissipated, I'd been to the court when he was tried and sentenced and he'd had a go at being a cocky little sod. But when he was sent down it was a bit of a shock to him. Meeting him I realised I was the one with power, and control and a good life, and good mates, and that he was the one in way over his head. I told him about what he'd stolen who it had belonged to in my family, I talked about my mum and my granny and the few bits of jewellery I had had been theirs. I talked about how scared it had made me. I talked about what it was like to have the things you care about trashed, stupid things like he burnt all my doctoral research notes, he trashed my computer because it was a crappy old one, and he nicked all my disks (it put paid to the PhD but hey ho) and binned them somewhere.
I asked him about his life and his mum and his mates. I saw him as a rather pathetic kid who had no clue and didn't give a **** about anything. I suspect no-one had asked him about anything for a long time. By the third time I met with him he was visibly shaking each time we talked. I regained utterly my feeling that I was ok. And that justice had been done because he actually learnt what the impact of his actions were. The last time I visited he started crying right at the start. Not to make me sorry for him he knew I wasn't a soft touch, but because he was having to face how worthless his life was in the grand scheme of things. He spent five years inside for a whole string of burglaries.
I met him once when he was about to be released. He wasn't a cocky sod any more. I can't say he was a great human being but he had got off smack and had done some GCSEs inside too. He said he regretted what he'd done, and that the worse thing about it was having to face me because each time I'd seen him I hadn't shouted or been angry but had looked back at him without flinching, and there was nowhere for him to go. It's made me stronger too in the long run.
I greatly admire that you gave the stuff over, and that you are so gracefully accepting friendship from your mates on here. I salute you. You are the bigger in every way. And shaking and fury are natural reactions and good to acknowledge, it will get you through the next couple of days. You are safe. That is what matters. And tomorrow you will still be ok with great mates. They will still be tossers.
When I faced him I felt very much as though all my anger and fear dissipated, I'd been to the court when he was tried and sentenced and he'd had a go at being a cocky little sod. But when he was sent down it was a bit of a shock to him. Meeting him I realised I was the one with power, and control and a good life, and good mates, and that he was the one in way over his head. I told him about what he'd stolen who it had belonged to in my family, I talked about my mum and my granny and the few bits of jewellery I had had been theirs. I talked about how scared it had made me. I talked about what it was like to have the things you care about trashed, stupid things like he burnt all my doctoral research notes, he trashed my computer because it was a crappy old one, and he nicked all my disks (it put paid to the PhD but hey ho) and binned them somewhere.
I asked him about his life and his mum and his mates. I saw him as a rather pathetic kid who had no clue and didn't give a **** about anything. I suspect no-one had asked him about anything for a long time. By the third time I met with him he was visibly shaking each time we talked. I regained utterly my feeling that I was ok. And that justice had been done because he actually learnt what the impact of his actions were. The last time I visited he started crying right at the start. Not to make me sorry for him he knew I wasn't a soft touch, but because he was having to face how worthless his life was in the grand scheme of things. He spent five years inside for a whole string of burglaries.
I met him once when he was about to be released. He wasn't a cocky sod any more. I can't say he was a great human being but he had got off smack and had done some GCSEs inside too. He said he regretted what he'd done, and that the worse thing about it was having to face me because each time I'd seen him I hadn't shouted or been angry but had looked back at him without flinching, and there was nowhere for him to go. It's made me stronger too in the long run.
I greatly admire that you gave the stuff over, and that you are so gracefully accepting friendship from your mates on here. I salute you. You are the bigger in every way. And shaking and fury are natural reactions and good to acknowledge, it will get you through the next couple of days. You are safe. That is what matters. And tomorrow you will still be ok with great mates. They will still be tossers.
It's not even something I'd considered happening before and I'm grateful that I'm mostly out and about in relatively inaccessible land by foot(as in it's a pretty long walk without many footpaths).
