For many survivors of abuse, the most painful betrayal isn’t always the act of harm itself — it’s the silence that surrounds it. The minimising, the denial, the subtle (or not-so-subtle) pressure to move on, to forgive, to keep the family together.
Often, that pressure comes wrapped in layers of religion, sentiment, and guilt. And it can take years — even decades — to name it for what it is: not love, but control.
“We took you in.”
When I was a teenager, I lived out of a carrier bag. I went from house to house, trying to stay safe. I wasn’t running wild — I was escaping abuse. I was young, vulnerable, and needing protection.
Some family members offered me a place to sleep, a meal, maybe even a smile. They thought that was kindness. And on the surface, it was. But what I really needed was to be believed. To be defended. To be safe from the man who was hurting me.
They gave me hospitality — but not advocacy.
They gave me niceness — but not truth.
They loved me, they said. But only if I kept my mouth shut.
“Forgive, because Jesus did.”
Religion played a powerful role in my upbringing. I was taught to love everyone. To forgive endlessly. To put others first.
But the version of religion I was handed didn’t protect me — it protected abusers. It asked me to carry the burden of reconciliation, even when no one else took responsibility. I was told to “honour thy mother” while she stayed with the man who harmed me. I was told to “turn the other cheek” while the justice system failed me.
Religion — in this form — became another tool of silence.
“But we love you.”
I’ve heard that a lot.
Often from people who didn’t believe me.
People who stayed close to my abuser.
People who asked me to let it go.
They love me, they say — but only if I stay in the version of myself that doesn’t make them uncomfortable. Only if I don’t speak up. Only if I carry the shame quietly.
That’s not love. That’s emotional convenience.
Let’s Call It What It Is
- Telling a survivor they’re being cruel for speaking the truth? That’s manipulation.
- Using religion to silence someone’s pain? That’s spiritual bypassing.
- Calling it “family loyalty” when people protect the abuser instead of the victim? That’s complicity.
You can’t say you love someone if you won’t sit with their reality.
And you don’t get to silence someone’s story just because it disrupts your comfort.
My Healing, My Boundaries
I no longer confuse sentiment for safety.
I don’t confuse religion for righteousness.
And I don’t mistake tolerance for love.
I honour the girl I was — the one living out of a bag, doing her best to survive.
I honour the woman I am now — one who sees clearly, speaks honestly, and sets boundaries rooted in self-respect, not guilt.
If you’ve been told you were “taken in” and therefore owe your silence…
If you’ve been told to forgive, but never seen accountability…
If you’ve been loved conditionally, performatively, or quietly…
You’re not alone.
And you’re not the problem.
The Justice System Is Not Always Just
For many survivors, going to court isn’t just difficult — it’s re-traumatising. The justice system, in its current form, often fails to protect victims and instead preserves the comfort of perpetrators.
The thread of patriarchy runs through every stage:
From the police who decide whether to believe you,
To the CPS who assess the “strength” of your case,
To the court where language is softened to protect the accused — while your trauma is scrutinised like evidence of guilt.
They may call grooming “a relationship.”
They may label trafficking as “misunderstood consent.”
They might suggest you were “confused,” “promiscuous,” or “just didn’t say no.”
Don’t let them reduce your truth to something palatable.
Don’t let their carefully chosen language convince you that your experience was anything less than what it was.
You have the right to speak clearly, to name what happened, and to refuse to be shamed into silence.
If you choose to engage with the system, stand strong.
Take support. Prepare well.
And know this: you are not on trial — the truth is.
Even when the institutions betray us, speaking your truth is still an act of radical power.
To be clear
Survivors don’t need pity, they need people who can sit with truth.
They don’t need prayers without action.
They don’t need hospitality without protection.
We don’t owe anyone our silence just because they gave us a sofa.
We don’t owe anyone our forgiveness just because they call it love.
We are not here to be quiet, palatable, or polite.
We are here to live honestly.
And that is sacred.
How counselling will help
I provide a safe space for you to speak your truth. You will be heard, believed and validated, (maybe for the first time in your life).
We form a therapeutic relationship, the meeting of two minds. You are not keeping the secret any more. You are not alone. There is nothing we can not talk about. You might feel scared and nervous, disloyal and bad. But those are from grooming and abuse and that will change. I promise. No more hiding. No more lies.
You deserve to feel your feelings and be validated as a person.
Are you ready to talk?
I offer a low-cost confidential service. I offer space to speak, find your voice, be really heard and validated. I am a trained professional counsellor who specialises in anxiety and trauma. Make an appointment to meet me and tell me what you want from counselling. See if you feel comfortable. The first session is over Zoom for both of our safety and then you can do sessions over Zoom from your own home or in person in mine, in my safe, comfortable therapy room.
Book your appointment today
Click here and book a free initial consultation with me today. Read what people are saying about working with me in counselling here. I hold a private, confidential space for you. I’m looking forward to meeting you and hearing you very soon. Best wishes, Karen.
Disclaimer: I am a UK qualified person centred counsellor specialising in anxiety and trauma within the context of counselling. I write from my experiences and from my client work in counselling. My work is dependent on the therapeutic relationship and the meeting of two minds. It is a humbling experience and that is all part of the healing process that I witness every day. It is the best job in the world. This is not an emergency service. If you need to speak to someone urgently outside of my sessions, please call the Samaritans on 116 123 (24/7 confidential helpline in the UK).