I lost my daughter to county lines at 13 and nearly lost myself

I am a mother. That word carries so much meaning — love, responsibility, protection. But for a long time, I felt I had failed at the very thing that mattered most: keeping my daughter safe. She was 13 when she was first exploited by a county lines gang. A child — still full of innocence, still holding onto her childhood — but targeted, groomed, and drawn into a world of danger and control by people who saw her as nothing more than a tool.

The signs were there, but they crept in slowly. Her personality changed. She became withdrawn, secretive, angry. I noticed she had things I hadn’t bought — a new phone, designer clothes. She stopped wanting to go to school. She stopped talking to me. At first, I blamed myself. Then I tried to talk to the school, to professionals, to anyone who might help. What I didn’t expect was to be blamed.

“I went for help and was met with suspicion, not support.”

When I raised concerns, I was treated as part of the problem. I was questioned about my parenting. I was told she was making “bad choices.” But no one seemed to understand my daughter hadn’t chosen this life. She was being controlled, threatened, and emotionally blackmailed by older men who knew exactly what they were doing.

I was terrified every time she walked out the door. I didn’t know where she was going or if she’d come back. I tried to intervene, but she didn’t trust me anymore. I’d already lost her trust — and I was losing my grip on the world around us. That time in our lives was full of fear, shame, and deep, aching heartbreak.

“It felt like screaming into a void — asking for help but being completely unheard.”

Finding Ivison Trust: The Moment I Began to Heal 

When I was introduced to the Parent Partnership Program at Ivison Trust, it felt like someone had finally turned on a light in a very dark room.

I was connected with other parents who had also experienced trauma and loss. For the first time, I wasn’t being judged — I was being understood. The programme gave me more than emotional support. It helped me understand the systems I was navigating, the impact of trauma, and the dynamics of exploitation. I began to realize I wasn’t a bad parent — I was a mother doing her best in an impossible situation.

Through workshops, peer support, and training, I slowly began to rebuild my confidence. I realized my lived experience had value. My voice could make a difference.

 From Survivor to Advocate

Today, I’m proud to be a parent partner with Ivison Trust. I work with professionals — from safeguarding teams to police to educators — to help them understand the real experiences of parents like me. I speak openly about what we went through, and how easy it is for children to be pulled into exploitation without anyone realizing.

I speak not to re-live the pain, but to create change. Every time I share our story, I hope it means one more child is protected. One more mother is believed. One more professional looks beyond stereotypes and sees the human behind the case file.

This work doesn’t take the pain away, but it gives it purpose.

The Bigger Picture

The truth is, families like mine are still being overlooked, judged, and left without the right support. County lines exploitation doesn’t just happen in big cities. It happens everywhere — in ordinary homes, to ordinary families. The trauma doesn’t end when the child comes home. It lingers, it reshapes relationships, and it leaves scars.

Through Ivison Trust, I’ve not only found healing — I’ve found a platform to make things better for the next parent and the next child.

 “I want professionals to know we’re not the enemy. We’re your greatest ally if you let us in.”

A Message to Other Parents

If you’re a parent reading this and you’re going through something similar — please know you are not alone. You are not a failure. What happened to your child is not your fault.

There is help. There is a community. And there is strength in your story, even if you can’t see it yet. The Ivison Trust Parent Partnership Program changed my life. It gave me my voice back. It gave me hope. And it reminded me that being a mother isn’t about being perfect — it’s about continuing to fight for your child, even when the world turns its back.

Desperate mum making systematic change piece by piece