My father was my world.

Before the abuse, he was my safe place.

The one I ran to when I was scared.

The one I wanted to make proud.

The one I thought would always protect me.

As children, we don’t question the people we love.

We trust them with our whole hearts.

Then one day…

The man who was meant to protect me became the monster I didn’t recognise.

Not overnight.

Not with warning.

Just slowly, the person I loved became the person I feared.

That is the part people don’t always understand about childhood sexual abuse.

It isn’t just the abuse you grieve.

You grieve the father you thought you had.

The safety you believed existed.

The childhood that ended without anyone noticing.

For years, I blamed myself.

I wondered if I’d done something wrong.

If I should have shouted louder.

If I should have told someone sooner.

But children don’t know how to make sense of the impossible.

When the person hurting you is also the person you love, your brain does what it has to do to survive.