When we’re young and naive, we are taught from the world around us that police protect the good guys, and lock up the bad guys. But what happens when you are in danger, and they don’t help? 

“Why do my parents hit me?” I wrote that question on a scrap of paper when I was 14. My teacher saw it and booked me in with the school counsellor. I thought I would be safe, that I could finally reveal the secrets I’d been harbouring all this time. And so I opened up about the abuse at home. To my shock, the counsellor called the police. 

My lived experience reflects a deep problem within the system. The police system isn’t just a few individual officers who don’t do their jobs properly. It’s the interconnected rules, courts, prisons, and culture that govern law enforcement as a whole. 

That system is failing girls and women within classrooms, courtrooms and homes like mine. 

Domestic violence and sexual assault are widely underreported, and women are disproportionately the victims of such crimes. Almost 1 in 3 women have been subject to physical violence and sexual assault from an intimate partner at least once in their lives, and less than 40% of women who experience violence seek help. 

Racialised women, meaning women of colour, are overpoliced yet underprotected by the criminal justice system. Systemic changes are needed. Most of all, the system needs to listen to women. 

Falling Through the System’s Cracks 

I thought the police would move me somewhere safe after my counsellor informed them of the abuse I confided to her. Maybe someone would finally protect me.

When the police arrived, they seemed bored. They asked me if I was just “rebelling.” As if abuse were a teenage tantrum. As if bruises and fear for my safety were about not being allowed to go to a sleepover.

My parents were brought into the school. I hid under a table because I was terrified. The officers said I had no evidence. They sent me home with my abusers. 

No follow-up. No protection. No one checked in. The system that claims to protect children sent me back to the people hurting me as if I had never existed. 

It was dismissive, invalidating and cruel. This was the beginning of a long pattern of abandonment by the police. 

Later, as a senior in high school at the age of 17, I bravely disclosed childhood sexual assault to a school counsellor. I was told a detective named Monica would come to school so I could make a statement.

She never came. I was told multiple times she would. She never did, even though I kept waiting for her arrival, so that I could give a voice to my trauma. 

This is what we mean by secondary victimisation. It’s not just one rude officer. It’s the repeated dismissal of vulnerable people such as children, women and racialised people, as a flaw of the system itself.

That kind of abandonment changes you. It teaches you not to trust. It teaches you that justice is conditional. It teaches you that in our society, children are not taken seriously enough and protected when they need it the most. 

Where I Am Now

As I write this, I am living in community housing after transitioning from a refuge for homeless young people fleeing abuse and domestic violence. 

While I am physically safe now, the impact of trauma continues to affect me, resulting in countless hospital admissions. Recovery is not a linear process. Alongside these challenges, I am engaged in trauma recovery through the support of Sydney’s local community mental health team and the care of my youth support worker. 

Moreover, I am a dedicated and passionate psychology student at the University of Sydney. My lived experience has granted me a deep compassion for helping people who struggle with trauma and mental health difficulties. 

I wrote this piece because stories like mine are not isolated incidents. 

They reflect gaps in the system that lead to a failure at protecting women and girls from violence. In sharing my experience, I hope to encourage awareness and inspire people to advocate for system reform so that survivors may be heard, believed and supported. 

The System Needs to Change

When women report domestic violence and are ignored, when rape cases don’t make it to trial, when racialised women are over-policed but under-protected, that is a feminist issue. 

Feminist issues are human rights issues. 

Human rights are the basic rights every person deserves simply for being human — safety, dignity and protection from violence. If a system retraumatises survivors instead of protecting them, we must actively challenge it if we hope to live in a safer society. A better world protects all trauma survivors, regardless of their gender, race or class. 

We can build systems centred on healing instead of abandonment. 

A feminist justice system serves the safety of women. Practical reconstruction of the system happens through legal reforms, community-led justice programs, feminist advocacy and training in trauma, misogyny and racism. A justice system that recognises how trauma significantly shapes the life opportunities, financial stability and mental wellbeing of survivors is possible.

Solutions exist to help people like me who were abandoned by the very system meant to protect girls and women from domestic violence and sexual abuse. 

If you ever asked for help and weren’t believed — that wasn’t your fault. You were not “too much,” a burden or merely “rebellious.” If you stayed silent because you were scared — that wasn’t weakness. That was survival. And if you feel angry at the system, just know that your anger is valid. 

Women and girls are worthy of protection and safety. And one day, we will collectively build a world that actually gives it to them.