Our family’s experience with Liverpool City Council’s children’s services has been a difficult and distressing journey spanning several years. We made a request for a direct payment, so that we could implement social opportunities for our child. Instead of being supported, it turned into a battle against the council systems that caused more harm than help.
Our experience
Initially, the council provided our child with a short breaks service of one weekday afternoon, short weekend sessions and some additional holiday time. At first this appeared to be reasonable, however we soon found that this was not an appropriate environment for our child.
My child found this environment overwhelming and distressing—so much so that getting him into the building was a traumatic experience involving physical handling by staff to prevent him from leaving. This caused immense anxiety and emotional distress for all of us.
The staff were all very kind but this setting was designed mainly for children with severe learning difficulties, but my son’s needs are different. This offer did not meet his needs or his wellbeing.
Because of this, we requested a Direct Payment so we could use the funds to source support that truly suited him. This was declined based on their eligibility criteria, which excluded children without severe learning disabilities. My son’s diagnosis of autism and sensory difficulties was disregarded despite his clear need.
The legal fight
Faced with this refusal, I made a formal complaint and this fight went all the way to the Local Government Ombudsman (LGO). The LGO ruled in our favour, confirming my son’s entitlement to Direct Payments and requiring the council to review its policies and train staff accordingly.
The distressing assessments
Following the Ombudsman’s report, the council agreed to carry out a section 17 assessment with a social worker. A date and time were agreed and confirmed in an email.
However, the social worker attended our home unannounced a week early, asking to see my son’s bedroom and wanted to speak to him alone. My son, then 10 years old, was anxious and overwhelmed by strangers and sudden changes. I said no to the social worker, that I did not give permission for her to speak with my child alone. The social worker stated that she would have to document my refusal. I initially refused the social worker seeing my son’s bedroom, but when she said she would also document this, I then panicked and agreed. I remember feeling sick as I was showing her upstairs, deep down I knew this was not right.
This assessment felt intrusive and hostile and caused significant distress to my family and I.
A couple of weeks later, we then received the report following the visit by the social worker.
The use of safeguarding language such as “Danger Statement” and “Safety Goal” in the report, when no safeguarding concerns existed, felt accusatory and oppressive. It wrongly suggested fault or risk in our family when we were simply asking for respite support.
The impact on our family
The constant battle with social services and legal systems took a heavy toll. My son’s mental health suffered from the repeated trauma of inappropriate services and stressful visits. The anxiety and distress of having to repeatedly fight for his rights has affected the whole family.
For me personally, it was exhausting and deeply upsetting to be treated as though I had done something wrong. I felt mistrusted and pressured in what should have been a supportive process.
The time spent complaining about this treatment, was energy lost from caring for my son.
What I wish had been done differently
I wish the council had applied the law correctly from the start. Direct Payments are not a favour or an optional extra; they are a right when children have assessed needs under the Children Act 1989.
Instead of forcing families into unsuitable services because of rigid local rules, councils should trust parents and offer flexible, personalised support.
I wish assessments were carried out with kindness and understanding, rather than doubt and close observation. Protocols demanding unannounced visits, requests to enter bedrooms without cause, and speaking to children alone should be applied sensitively and only where truly necessary.
The oppressive language in assessment forms should be replaced with clear, strengths-based language that respects families’ dignity.
Why a report on Systems Generated Trauma is so important
Our experience is unfortunately not unique. Many families of disabled children face similar systemic failures: unfair eligibility criteria, assessments that are harmful and confrontational, and processes that cause trauma rather than provide support.
Systems generated trauma is invisible but real—it compromises trust, mental health, and access to timely support. It leads to exhaustion and disengagement from families who desperately need assistance.
A report on this is vital, public services must be held accountable. Families should not have to feel scared asking for help for the fear of safeguarding processes rather than protecting them.
Without this, more children and parents will suffer unnecessary harm within the very support systems meant to help them.
My one piece of advice would be this: listen to families and trust the expertise of parents. We are the experts in our children’s needs.
Public services must move away from control and suspicion and towards partnership and rights-based practice. Safeguarding must not be an assumption when it comes to our disabled children and young people.
By building trust, treating families with respect, and honouring their legal rights, services can be more effective and humane — enabling children to thrive and parents to feel supported rather than defeated.
No child or family should experience trauma at the hands of their support systems.
