thought reporting my childhood sexual abuse would be the hardest part. I was wrong. Nearly a decade after walking into a police station, my criminal case has been referred to the NSW Director of Public Prosecutions twice. I've navigated the National Redress Scheme, pursued a civil claim, undergone medical assessments, relived my childhood through statements and interviews, and waited - sometimes for months, sometimes for years - for the next step. Australia has encouraged survivors to come forward since the Royal Commission. But what happens after we do? In this deeply personal opinion piece, the writer argues that while the abuse was the first trauma, the pursuit of justice can become the second. She asks whether Australia has become better at helping survivors navigate broken systems than fixing the systems themselves-and whether it's time to rethink what justice should really look like.

If children's safety is the paramount consideration under Australian law, why do advocacy groups continue to report cases where children are removed from the parent they identify as their safe person? New findings, a parliamentary petition and growing calls for reform are putting the family law system under renewed scrutiny.

“My story spans more than fifteen years. It is a story about coercive control that did not stop when the relationship ended and how children can become the tools through which that control continues.”

Australia has quietly introduced a major shift in welfare law. One aimed squarely at fugitives wanted over serious violent and sexual crimes. While critics warn of threats to civil liberties, supporters say it simply stops taxpayers from funding people who are actively evading arrest for harming women and children. In a justice system where survivors already carry the heavier burden, this reform marks a rare moment where the balance moves toward protection instead of complacency.

For years, families spoke quietly about the Magdellon List — often in corridors outside courtrooms, in waiting rooms after assessments, or in messages exchanged late at night between parents trying to understand what had just happened to their children’s cases. It was never formally explained to them, never transparently published, and never acknowledged in a way that made its role clear. Yet its presence was felt.