As a child, I suffered in silence.
No one came to save me. No one looked closely enough. No one listened when I needed them to. I carried bruises you couldn’t see and wounds that never had the chance to heal. I did what so many children do—I survived the best I could with what little I was given.
But survival came at a cost.
Now, as an adult, I live with the scars they allowed to form. The trauma that shaped me, the coping mechanisms I had to build just to make it through another day—those things didn’t disappear. They became part of me. And instead of receiving understanding or support, I find myself punished for the very damage that was done to me.
The system that failed to protect me as a child now judges me as a parent. It looks at my symptoms as defects, my struggles as failures. And it takes the most precious thing from me—my children.
Not because I don’t love them.
Not because I don’t try.
But because the pain I was never allowed to process shows up in ways I wish it didn’t.
It’s a cruel cycle. One that blames the wounded for their wounds. One that forgets that healing isn’t linear and that trauma doesn’t disappear just because we grow older. We carry it. And sometimes, when we don’t get the help we need, we pass it on—not because we want to, but because we were never shown another way.
I am not a monster. I am not a failure. I am a survivor.
And I am tired of being punished for surviving.
This post isn’t just my story—it’s the story of so many others caught in the cracks of a system that promises protection, then delivers punishment. If we truly care about children, we must also care about the children who grew up and never got the help they needed. We must stop blaming and start understanding.
Because no child should suffer in silence.
And no adult should be shamed for carrying the silence they were forced to endure.
~ The Girl Speaks
thegirlspeaks.uk 