When Father's Day Hurts: A Reflection on Paternal Betrayal and Radical Reclamation

Father’s Day is meant to be a celebration of love, protection, provision, and paternal strength. But for many survivors, especially those impacted by familial trafficking, Father’s Day is a visceral reminder of betrayal — not by a stranger, but by the very person who was supposed to protect them.

For children trafficked by their own fathers or father figures, this day is not filled with barbecues and brunches. It is saturated with grief, anger, confusion, and loss. Loss of safety. Loss of trust. Loss of a childhood that should have been guarded with tenderness and fierce advocacy.

It is deeply unsettling to consider that a father — a role so intertwined with protection — could be the one orchestrating harm. And yet, it happens. More often than most people want to admit.

According to data from the Counter-Trafficking Data Collaborative, familial trafficking accounts for a significant portion of child sex trafficking cases, with parents or close relatives often acting as the traffickers — particularly in cases involving long-term, hidden exploitation. In some studies, familial trafficking comprises nearly 40–50% of domestic minor sex trafficking cases.

This reality forces us to confront one of the most unthinkable truths: that evil doesn’t always look like a monster lurking in the shadows. Sometimes it looks like a dad at the dinner table, a father on the sidelines at soccer practice, or a man in church holding a child’s hand.

Facing that truth can bring up a riot of emotions — grief for what was lost, confusion about how this could happen in plain sight, and deep, burning anger.

And let us say this clearly: It is okay to be angry.
Anger is not a weakness. Anger is not a failure.
Anger is a recognition that something precious was violated.

When a father, who should be a child’s safe place, instead becomes the source of terror — that should make us angry.
When systems look away or protect the abuser instead of the child — that should make us angry.
When the world celebrates fatherhood with blanket sentimentality while survivors sit in silence — that should make us angry.

We don’t talk about this enough. Because it’s devastating. Because it disrupts our assumptions about family. Because it demands a level of moral courage that many people simply aren’t prepared to give.

But survivors deserve more than silence and sentimentality.

They deserve our willingness to hold the truth.

They deserve a community strong enough to say: We believe you. We see what you survived. We will not celebrate those who caused you harm, even if they carry the title “father.” We will be the family you lost.

What a Father Should Be

A father’s eyes should shine with love and delight when he looks at his child — not with calculation, not with control, not with cruelty masked as care.

A child should feel safe under the gaze of their dad, not surveilled.

A father’s hands should comfort, not harm. His presence should bring calm, not fear.

When that isn’t true — when the person called “dad” brings harm instead of healing — it shatters something deep inside. And rebuilding that sense of worth, safety, and identity can take years, even decades.

The Ones Who Step In

And yet — in the aftermath of that betrayal — something powerful can happen.

Survivors find support people who step into the broken places.

Sometimes it’s a mentor, a therapist, a coach, a foster parent, a chosen family member, a friend’s dad, or a community elder. These are the people whose eyes do shine with love and delight….who do protect without control….who do offer presence instead of power.

These people don’t replace what was lost — but they fill in the empty spaces left behind. They offer something survivors were always worthy of: care without condition. Safety without silence. Love without harm.

If you are one of those people — if you have stepped into the space where someone else failed — thank you. You may never fully know the impact you’ve had. But your consistency, your protection, your refusal to look away — it matters. It heals.

Rewriting the Meaning of Fatherhood

If Father’s Day is painful for you or someone you love, let me say this:

You are not alone.

You are not broken for feeling rage or sorrow today.

You are not less worthy of love because the person meant to protect you chose to cause harm.

And if your story includes being a survivor who is also now a parent, today may bring a complicated mix of grief and redemption. You may be actively working to be a different kind of parent — the kind your child deserves. That is a radical act of resistance.

To the survivor dads reclaiming fatherhood — we see your courage. To those who have chosen to be spiritual, emotional, or practical fathers to children not born to you — your love is revolutionary.

A Call to Action

Let’s change the narrative.

Let’s stop idealizing families without asking if children in those families are safe.

Let’s build systems that listen to children, believe survivors, and investigate familial abuse thoroughly — even when the abuser is a parent.

Let’s stop looking away when the truth makes us uncomfortable.

And this Father’s Day, if your heart breaks for what you or someone else has endured, let it break open into something powerful. Be the person who chooses protection over denial. Be the safe person a child can turn to. Be the one who helps interrupt the cycle.