I don’t really remember what I thought disclosure would be like. But I believed it would feel like a release, sunshine and roses, my parents hugging me, telling me everything would be alright.
I don’t know where I’d seen that version. Maybe in films. Maybe in stories where telling the truth makes everything better.
But disclosure isn’t like that.
In this episode, I’m exploring what disclosure actually is, not the romanticised version, but the real one. What it costs when you’re not believed. What it reveals about the people around you. And what I’ve learnt from opening door after door, even when some stayed closed.
I was thirteen when I told my mother. Her response wasn’t “I believe you.” It was: “Are you sure? Once you say this, you can’t take it back.”
At thirteen, I was being asked to carry certainty about my own harm.
That question, “Are you sure?” is one of the most harmful responses a child can hear. It doesn’t just leave them unprotected. It teaches them their voice is dangerous. That silence is safer.
This isn’t a story about perfect timing or clean endings. It’s about learning to contain your own truth. About recognising the strength you had before the world told you who you were supposed to be. About holding yourself accountable when the system doesn’t.
Disclosure is the path to many doors. Some opened with ease. Others felt like lead. Some I chose not to open at all. And some, even now, remain closed.
And that matters. Because disclosure doesn’t mean you walk through everything. It means you’re no longer trapped in one room.
Take what resonates. Leave the rest.
J’K
