Hope – Rosie Batty, with Sue Smethurst

It is the cruellest act to have your child snatched from your life, especially when they are just out of arm’s reach.

Luke Batty was murdered on 12 February 2014. The fact that his father perpetrated this violence continues to horrify me. I am acutely aware of how privileged I am that I will never be able to comprehend the grief that Rosie Batty, Luke’s Mum, lives with.

I’m in awe of Rosie. Her courage and resilience, tested every day for a decade now, is astounding. The fact that she’s able to put one foot in front of the other in any capacity amazes me. That she has spent the past ten years advocating for change, telling her story countless times and giving of herself to support others who have experienced domestic and family violence? There just aren’t words for that.

This isn’t the kind of book you look forward to reading in the traditional sense. It is one that I preordered and began reading as soon as it finished downloading on my Kindle, though. If Rosie was going to be brave enough to tell me even part of her story, then I wanted to hear her.

Nothing and no one can prepare you for the day after the worst day of your life. The sun comes up, but it’s not as bright. Life is never the same again.

I’m not naive enough to think that I could hold any part of her pain for her by reading her story, although I wish I could. My story, while it pales in comparison to Rosie’s, can make people uncomfortable and unsure of how to respond. This is part of the reason why I didn’t want to shy away from Rosie’s story, even though I knew it was going to hurt to read.

I was infuriated to learn that Rosie was forced to sit in the back of a police car – alone – for hours, near where her son was just murdered. The hate she has received as a result of her advocacy, by “making the invisible visible”, made my blood boil.

It was only once I started reading this book that I realised I’d gone about this backwards. I discovered A Mother’s Story, the book I should have read first. I want to get to know Luke, and learn more about Rosie’s life prior to the event that turned her before into after.

While Rosie’s story is unique, unfortunately it is not an uncommon one. Worldwide, more than one third of women have been beaten, coerced into sex or abused in some way. On average, a woman dies violently every week in Australia, usually at the hands of someone she knows. Police get called to one domestic violence matter every two minutes. About one in six women and one in nine men experience physical and/or sexual abuse before the age of 15.

Something that stood out to me about who Rosie is was the fact that, even in her memoir, she’s not making it all about her, when she would absolutely be justified in doing so. Instead, she shines a light on other women who have experienced domestic and family violence. Some, like Rosie, have become household names in Australia. Some, I was introduced to here.

The sentence that hit me the hardest was when Rosie was talking about being a mother.

I have memories of being a mother and the experience of what motherhood was like, but I’m not a mother any more.

One of my takeaways from this book was the gentle reminder that people’s responses to trauma vary and that’s okay. You don’t know how you will respond unless it happens to you. Let’s hope you never have to find out.

I have the greatest respect for Rosie. She’s real. She hates that you know who she is because of what happened to Luke. She’s authentic. She doesn’t gloss over the dark days and doesn’t big-note herself, although she certainly could with all that she’s achieved in spite of what life’s taken from her.

She’s someone who has found pockets of joy. She enjoys being in nature, she loves animals and she’s an accomplished swearer. I’ll probably never have the opportunity to sit down and talk to Rosie but, if I did, it would be a privilege to be able to laugh and cry with her. She sounds like a kindred spirit.

Sometimes you just have to dust off your feathers, stretch your wings and find hope to take flight.

Once Upon a Blurb

After tragedy, how do we find hope? A memoir about what it takes to get through the very worst of times from Rosie Batty – a woman who has experienced tragedy, who had lost all hope, yet now is intent on finding it again.

On a warm summer’s evening in February 2014, eleven-year-old Luke Batty was killed by his father at cricket practice. It was a horrific act of family violence that shocked Australia. 

The next morning, his mother Rosie bravely stood before the media. Her powerful and gut-wrenching words about family violence galvanised the nation and catapulted her into the spotlight. From that day on, Rosie Batty campaigned tirelessly to protect women and children, winning hearts and minds with her courage and compassion, singlehandedly changing the conversation around domestic violence in this country. Rosie’s remarkable efforts were recognised when she became the 2015 Australian of the Year and a year later she was named one of the World’s Greatest Leaders by Fortune magazine. However, behind Rosie’s steely public resolve and seemingly unbreakable spirit, she was a mum grieving the loss of her adored son.

What happens when you become an accidental hero? What happens the day after the worst day of your life? What happens when you are forced to confront the emptiness and silence of a house that once buzzed with the energy of a young son? 

You go to dark places from which you’re not sure you’ll ever recover.

Following on from her runaway best-seller A Mother’s Story, which detailed the lead up to her son’s murder, Hope shares what happened to Rosie the day after the worst day of her life and how she reclaimed hope when all hope was lost. She shares her struggles with anxiety, PTSD, self-doubt and self-loathing and how she finally confronted her grief. She shares the stories of those who have inspired her to keep going, and given her hope when she needed it most. In this heartfelt, and at times heartbreaking memoir, Rosie tells how she found the light on her darkest days and how she found the hope to carry on.