Decades after leaving foster care, I discovered that my social care files contained false and damaging narratives — ones that followed me into adulthood, shaped how professionals treated me, and nearly silenced my truth. This is how official records can distort justice, and how survivors are reclaiming their voices.
The Weight of a File
For care-experienced people, their files tell the story others wrote about them. These documents influence how police, courts, and professionals view them later in life. When those records are biased, incomplete, or written to protect institutions rather than children, they become a powerful weapon of harm.
In my own case, I learned that my childhood records often exaggerated normal behaviour, misinterpreted trauma responses, and omitted serious safeguarding concerns. What should have been documentation of abuse and failure became instead a record of blame.
“When the system writes your story for you, your truth has to fight for space between the lines.”
This misuse of documentation is not new. The Children Act 1989 and Working Together to Safeguard Children (2018) clearly require accurate, balanced, and factual recording of children’s experiences — yet numerous statutory reviews have found widespread non-compliance.
(See: Department for Education, “Working Together to Safeguard Children”, 2018; The Independent Review of Children’s Social Care, 2022.)
The Police, the Files, and the Damage
When I reported the abuse I experienced in care, I expected safety and understanding. Instead, I met disbelief and dismissal. My first complaint was closed quickly by the police.
At the time police were using my files as a window to my character – I had no knowledge about the systematic character assassination within my files. No one informed me or gave me the opportunity to question – or see my files at the time it was being used to make judgment.
During my first interview, I could hear laughter coming from another part of the station. It was deeply unsettling, and eventually, I broke down and couldn’t continue. I wasn’t met with empathy, only silence & hostility. Soon after, the case was closed. I did not really understand why at the time, but I understood I was not happy about it, and felt betrayed by the police.
Later, I learned that language from my childhood records — including an inappropriate label used by professionals — had been repeated by an officer. It was based on biased documentation, not truth. The damage this caused was immense.
I was very angry with staff for the adultification and lying about me within my records. So angry, I wrote to the police officer working on my case at the time, and told them exactly what I thought about the staff who character assassinated me, when I was just 10 -12 years old.
The labels added to the trauma, and at times it made me internalise the neglect and wonder what I did to deserve the inappropriate and bias led adultification. To this day I want to sue those protected individuals for slander, which caused severe detriment, and deprivation of empathy – from those paid to safeguard and protect me from sexual offenses. Both in my childhood at the time, and in adulthood when I sought justice.
“When false records follow you into adulthood, the past becomes a barrier to justice.”
The College of Policing stresses that victim credibility should never be assessed through subjective language or social background, yet this remains a common failure in cases involving care-experienced people.
(See: College of Policing, “Victims and Witnesses: Achieving Best Evidence”, 2023.)
When False Records Follow You
False or biased information doesn’t end when a child leaves care. It follows them into adulthood, university, employment, and even police interactions. Those written words — often opinions, not facts — become a lifelong shadow.
When I finally gained access to my full files, I realised how much of my life had been shaped by what others wrote. I wasn’t just fighting for justice for abuse; I was fighting to correct my own history.
“It took me years to over-stand I wasn’t the person they described in those files. I was the child they failed to protect.”
This echoes findings from the Information Commissioner’s Office (ICO), which has repeatedly warned local authorities about incomplete or misleading child records, particularly in Subject Access Requests.
(See: ICO Casework Updates on Children’s Services Data, 2021–2024.)
Finding the Courage to Challenge
Years later, I approached police headquarters directly, this time with evidence, documentation, and a clear complaint about how my abuse had been mishandled. A new investigator treated me with respect and listened. For the first time, I was seen as a victim of abuse — not as a file.
At the time, I was studying at university. The process took a toll on me, mentally and emotionally, especially the police video evidence interviews. But it also helped me rebuild my voice. My university gave me mentoring support, and the tools and knowledge I needed, and I began to write formally about my experiences. That was when I realised that challenging false narratives isn’t just about justice — it’s about reclaiming identity.
“Reclaiming your truth from a state-written narrative is an act of survival.”
Systemic Impact: When Documentation Becomes Damage
Inaccurate or incomplete record-keeping isn’t a clerical error — it’s systemic harm. Every time a disclosure is dismissed, every time a trauma response is mislabeled as “bad behaviour,” a child’s future credibility is diminished.
Police and courts rely heavily on social care records. When those files are written with bias or omission, they shape entire investigations and judicial outcomes. For many survivors, justice is denied before it even begins. Directly due to omitted records, language used to describe foster children, and a lack of procedural action at the time.
This issue has been identified in major national reviews, including The Independent Inquiry into Child Sexual Abuse (IICSA), which found that “institutional cultures of disbelief and blame have repeatedly silenced victims of abuse.”
(See: IICSA Final Report, 2022.)
Reclaiming Narrative, Rebuilding Trust
Reclaiming truth from false records is exhausting, but it’s also revolutionary. Each survivor who speaks out forces institutions to confront how documentation practices can perpetuate harm.
Trauma-informed record-keeping must become standard practice in social care. Every note written about a child should be done with awareness that those words may one day determine whether that child’s truth is believed.
“When professionals mis-record trauma, they don’t just distort the past — they destroy futures.”
The British Association of Social Workers (BASW) has called for a trauma-informed approach to social work recording, urging practitioners to move away from deficit-based language and toward compassion, accuracy, and accountability.
(See: BASW, “Trauma-Informed Practice in Social Work”, 2022.)
Written by a survivor of the UK care system (1980s–1990s).
- Department for Education – Working Together to Safeguard Children (2018)
👉 https://www.gov.uk/government/publications/working-together-to-safeguard-children–2 - Independent Review of Children’s Social Care (2022)
👉 https://childrenssocialcare.independent-review.uk - College of Policing – Achieving Best Evidence (2023)
👉 https://www.college.police.uk/guidance/achieving-best-evidence - Information Commissioner’s Office – Children’s Services Data Complaints (2021–2024)
👉 https://ico.org.uk - Independent Inquiry into Child Sexual Abuse (IICSA) – Final Report (2022)
👉 https://www.iicsa.org.uk/reports-recommendations/publications - BASW – Trauma-Informed Practice in Social Work (2022)
👉 https://www.basw.co.uk/resources/trauma-informed-practice-social-work
Discover more from Society's Hidden Secrets
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
Yes we do! Sorry for your experience, hopefully by talking about how these experiences impact us, we can create change,…