For the other side, my brother and I were also abused (violently, not sexually), by people who also loved us as well as they could, I think- and it was and is still confusing, and I was not sure even the worst of it was abuse until I told a therapist as an adult (he was shocked and said without question it was call dfcs, take the kids, no hesitation at all level violence and I knew in that moment looking at his face, how f’d up it was, but I had never told anyone but my mother, who came back for my brother but left me there for another several years so how bad could it be? Is what I always wondered...) ... although, no matter what anyone called it or didn’t call it I knew at twelve years old that I had to protect my little brother.
I can’t imagine not feeling that- the sense of needing to protect a child.