I've protested as Batman ever since I joined Fathers 4 Justice 14 months ago — there was the Clifton suspension bridge, and the roofs at the Birmingham and Gloucester law courts. Batman was the last film I saw with my son, so it reminds me of who I am doing this for. And Batman's a superhero. Every child's father is meant to be a superhero.

My two children are from my marriage to Victoria, which fell apart in 2001. I was away from home a lot, working in London. I returned one day to find Victoria and the children gone. It was a shock, and the separation was messy. It went from seeing them once a week to no contact at all, because Victoria wouldn't turn up with them at the contact centre as arranged. I last saw my son at a contact centre in April.

My own parents split up when I was seven, but I was still able to see my dad. After my marriage broke up, I went to a meeting in Bristol for fathers who couldn't meet their kids. There were a lot of grown men crying into their beer, and I felt: "I don't need this." I then read about a man dressed as Santa storming a building in London and I thought: "That's more like it!" I've never looked back. With Fathers 4 Justice, I'm on TV. I may not be able to see my kids, but they can see me.

At the beginning of September, at Fathers 4 Justice we felt we were slipping in the public's eye. We needed to come up with a spectacular idea so people would listen. Buckingham Palace was our first choice. The night before, we stayed in a flat on the Isle of Dogs. One guy said to me: "It's been nice meeting you, but you're going to get shot."

The next day, Matt O'Connor [who founded Fathers 4 Justice] and me paid for a tour around the palace. Back outside, me and Dave Pyke, who is Robin, decided to do it there and then. While other guys from Fathers 4 Justice created a diversion at the main gates, we grabbed our ladder and went to railings next to a palace annexe, near a side road. I already had my Batman suit on underneath a long overcoat. I took a couple of deep breaths and scaled the railings and went ahead without Robin.

I clambered along the edges of the outside of the building and was able to reach the main balcony. I blocked out the vision of being shot and focused on the vision of my kids. It was easier to get onto the Queen's balcony than to get to see my children. I was 25ft above the ground — and I'm not a professional climber. It's the adrenaline and love of your children that makes you do it.

I unfurled a banner saying: "Super dads of Fathers 4 Justice. Fighting for your right to see your kids." The police ran up with their guns raised, screaming: "Stop! Armed response!" But I didn't stop. I was protesting for all the people that can't. I was up there for five hours. I was trying to look at the crowd who were directly in front of me and not at the soldiers and police. John Stevens, the then Metropolitan police commissioner, said on the news that I was 18 seconds away from being shot. But they knew that I wasn't a terrorist. Terrorists don't dress up as superheroes.

I'm living an emotional rollercoaster. The protesting has taken over my life. I split up with my partner, Gemma; she thought what I was doing was going too far. My mum's happy with it — though she is scared I might get shot or end up in prison. But my brother won't speak to me after Buckingham Palace. He says I've brought the family into disrepute. Well, I lost him, but I gained another brother in Dave Pyke. We've become close. He's been through the highs and the lows. I have known him since last December and I see him every day.

I'm convinced of the rightness of what I'm doing. I'd do Buckingham Palace again, even if it meant getting shot. If my children told me to stop, I don't know if I could. I'm stubborn, because of the way I've been treated by the family courts. Before, I was just a father who didn't see his kids. Now I've learnt so much about how the system works. My greatest wish is for the law to change and that all of us from Fathers 4 Justice remain close.

But I would love to turn back time. Sometimes I wish I was still married to Victoria. And protesting feels like holding out an olive branch to her. I still love her, because she's the mother of my children. I miss my normal life. I sometimes cry myself to sleep at night, thinking about how everything used to be.

All charges relating to Jason Hatch's palace protest have been dropped