I remember the last papal visit to Ireland. It was 1979, and I was aged 13. I went to a Christian Brothers school. I sang at mass every Sunday, occasionally did readings, and the youth group I attended every week took place in a convent.

I remember being envious because my older brother and sister got to see the pope, but I didn’t. I was in the minority in that regard: a staggering 75% of the population saw John Paul II during his three-day visit. One-third of the population attended the papal mass in Dublin’s Phoenix Park. That event remains the largest single mobilisation of people in Irish history.

I remember the most iconic moment of the visit, during a youth mass in Galway. The pope’s voice booming out across a crowd of 300,000 young people as he proclaimed: “Young people of Ireland, I love you!” I remember the ecstatic cheering of that huge crowd in response. And I remember my own heart feeling like it might burst as I watched it all unfold on television. I believed him. He loved us. No one had ever said that before. It was huge.

Eighteen months later, I was raped for the first time by a Roman Catholic priest. The abuse continued for two and half years, until I was 17, and I fled. More than a decade later, I finally found the strength to report those crimes. That complaint would eventually lead me to uncovering the crimes not just of one priest, but the cover up of the crimes of many others by bishops, cardinals and even popes. It led to me suing a pope in an effort to force the Vatican to tell the truth of what it knew about the rape and abuse of children by its priests.

Back then, exactly two decades ago, I was making allegations, albeit ones grounded in compelling evidence, that the Vatican had wilfully and deliberately covered up and facilitated the rape and abuse of children in Ireland, and across the Catholic world. Today, the fact of that cover-up is indisputable. Back then, bishops, cardinals and popes denied the fact that the rape and abuse of children was endemic within the Catholic church. That too, is now indisputable.

When I and others named the cover-up, we were called liars, accused of slander and of pursuing an anti-Catholic agenda. Sadly, despite the fact that our charges have now been proved to be true, some, including in recent days cardinals, continue to attack us for naming plain truth.

There has been progress. No pope could today deny the fact that such abuse was widespread across his church. This week the Vatican responded to the Pennsylvania grand jury report which documented seven decades of depraved abuse by priests and cover-ups by church leaders. The Vatican said that the abuse revealed in the report was “criminal and morally reprehensible”.

‘At no point did Pope Francis take any responsibility on the part of Vatican for the cover-up it directed.’ Photograph: Evandro Inetti/Zuma Wire/Rex/Shutterstock

Commentators described that statement as a breakthrough, saying the language was stronger than any previously used in such a context. The breakthrough, we were told, was the Vatican’s description of the rape of children as “criminal” and not merely as “sinful”.

Decades into a cycle of revelations of horrific crimes and cover-ups perpetrated by the institutional Roman Catholic church, the admission that the rape and sexual assault of children are criminal acts is seen as progress.

Days later we got another “unprecedented” statement. In a letter to the world’s Catholics (the rest of us were not the intended recipients of this communication) Francis went so far as to acknowledge that the crimes of priests were covered up. Notably though, he failed to acknowledge who perpetrated the cover-ups. His letter ran to 2,010 words. It was scattered with words like sin, crime, forgiveness, accountability and yes, cover-up.

But at no point did Francis take any responsibility on the part of Vatican for the cover-up it directed. He begged for forgiveness, but did not say what it was that we were being asked to forgive. The pope said he was aware of measures being developed to make those who abuse children and those who cover up such crimes accountable.

Again, he didn’t say who it was that were to be held accountable. Did he mean bishops? Because only he, as pope, can hold bishops to account within the church. But more to the point, how can the Vatican hold bishops accountable for acting as it directed? For doing what was mandated by church law and norms?

Just like the letter issued by his predecessor to the Catholics of Ireland in 2010, this was a letter heavy with obscure references to the “sins” and the crimes of others. But one that failed to tell the plain truth, to honestly acknowledge Vatican responsibility for anything, never mind apologise for it.

So, 20 years on I am again saying that a pope should tell the truth. That the truth, and only the truth can be a force of meaningful change, for action to ensure that current and future generations of children and vulnerable adults are protected, and that past victims of the atrocities so decried by Pope Francis are finally able to see some meaningful path to justice. That can’t be too much to ask, can it?

• Colm O’Gorman is an author, activist and abuse survivor