For My Own Clarity and Healing

23rd May 2025

Today, I need to name something that’s been hurting me deeply — the change in a member of staff at the Early Years Setting.

She saw me when I was at my most vulnerable. She witnessed my grief and fear when when my daughter first disclosed to me. That morning, I was raw. I was broken. And she was kind. She listened. She brought in the manager. She comforted me. At the time, I felt seen — understood — by someone I respected and liked.

So when I found out that she was moving from the Nursery to the Early Years Setting, I felt relief. I thought, finally, someone who knows and someone who won’t treat me like I’m a problem. I believed her warmth would follow us into that new environment. I even told her how hard the drop-offs were, how cold it all felt. And she said she’d bring her “warm cheer.” I believed her.

But that didn’t last.

Her smile became forced. Her tone changed. Bit by bit, I watched someone I had trusted turn cold. It wasn’t just a bad day or a busy morning — it became a pattern. It became rejection.

And I’ve spent so much time blaming myself. Wondering if I did something wrong. Asking whether I overstepped. Trying to change myself — make myself quieter, friendlier, smaller — just to be liked again. Just to be treated like a human being. But the truth is: I didn’t do anything wrong.

The shift isn’t about who I am — it’s about what I represent. I represent a truth people don’t want to face. I’ve spoken up in a situation where others have remained silent. And when you’re the one shining a light on something uncomfortable, people start turning away — not because you’re wrong, but because they don’t want to look.

It hurts that she turned away. It hurts because she was there at the beginning. Because she knew how shattered I was. Because she could have been someone safe for me and my daughter — and she chose not to be.

But I will not carry shame for someone else’s silence.

I am not crazy. I am not too much. I am not imagining it.

I am a mother who is protecting her child and being punished for doing so.

And I will keep going — even if it’s painful, even if it’s lonely — because my little girl is worth everything.