Protection
Thus begins the gradual crumbling of denial which many of us have maintained all our adult life until such an epiphany occurs. It may come through the questions posed by a therapist or something as mundane as an old photo found while cleaning up the drawers of a desk, or even the aroma of baking bread wafting from a stranger’s house in the neighbourhood. I have extended the scope of the question, for example in the following ways: When you were being constantly bullied at school, who protected you? Where was the protection when, as an eight-year-old , you were sexually molested by that priest who lived in the street opposite the school? In each case, the same answer: “Nobody”.
