Trigger warning: relationship abuse, exploitation, discrimination, child abuse 

Imagine living through abuse, then reliving it every time you try to report it, because the very systems meant to protect you: do not speak your language, do not understand your trauma, and/or cannot or, do not believe your truth. 

This is the lived reality for many in the Deaf community. For survivors of abuse, especially when the perpetrator is also Deaf, those barriers are even higher. Professionals often misread our communication, minimise our trauma, and excuse violent behaviour under the guise of cultural awareness. I was told a Deaf man's persistent coercive control, aggression and violence was simply a form of Deaf expression by hearing social workers. I can assure you, this is very far from the truth and that we Deaf people know how to behave.

I’m sharing just part of this deeply personal story because I know I’m not the only one. Survivors: no matter how they identify, deserve safety, justice, and accessible support systems, not closed doors and shrugged shoulders. 

I write this for two reasons: 

For the Deaf community: so you know you’re not alone, and to say what many of us have felt but couldn’t say. This can happen to anyone: including professionals and academics. No-one needs to keep quiet.

For those in power: police, social care, mental health services, the courts, and support organisations,  including those that are specialist for Deaf people, so you can understand how systems are failing us, and what needs to change.

Speaking in Silence: When Reporting Abuse Is a Barrier Itself

My nightmare began long before I reported it, the number of years isn't important for this writing. The urgent need to report came from the fact that children were living with this adult. Social workers, however, weren't interested in hearing my perspective because they were focused on hearing the voice of the children; I was told it had to go to the police. So, I tried. I had a brief, English log of the three main incidents. My local police force (A) transcribed it into a form for Police Force B, a neighbouring county, where it happened. One incident involved a prolonged threat with a knife. I had so much more to say, but it was all trapped inside, in British Sign Language (BSL). That's the language it happened in, and I just couldn't put it into English words.

If you understand the mechanisms of how trauma works, this makes sense. It was stuck. I hadn't had the time, space or therapeutic support back then, to organise it into organised, formal memory, let alone translate it from one language to another, neatly, for the police to record. My day-to-day English proficiency didn't matter in that moment.

Police Force B immediately rejected the form, claiming they didn't consider it abuse, yet ignoring the fact that I had much more to say but I could not describe in English. One of the children involved later had many encounters with knives, and the adult even threatened social workers with weapons. Still, Police Force B wouldn't even meet me to hear what else I had experienced at this person's hands. I knew the children were being exposed to these behaviours too, and I had to try. I spent a year navigating their complaints system, and they refused to respond in BSL. I never understood why, perhaps because I could write in English, but it meant I never truly understood their reasoning, something a face-to-face conversation could have easily clarified. Eventually, my local Police Force A agreed to take my statement after the complaint was referred to them (a process I still don't fully grasp).

BSL, Role-Shift, and Dissociation: What Services Still Don’t Understand

A male interpreter was booked. When I arrived, my stomach churned. I hadn't asked for a female interpreter, so I supposed I couldn't complain. The interpreter tried to be friendly, and while I'm usually fine, with him I wasn't. We went into the room to make the statement.

I had been having increasing nightmares for two weeks leading up to the statement. I was telling the female officer, whom I knew well. I was strangely mixing speech and sign, I normally use one or the other. Something was going on in my head, but I couldn't explain it. The male police officer asked where we should start. I had a list on my phone, but it was just a list; I needed to explain each point. He suggested I start there, or if I could remember what I wrote on page 3 of the original form... I couldn’t remember what I wrote on which page! So, I started explaining the first point on my phone.

It seemed so simple: most nights, I would go to bed, either asleep or going to sleep, at my most vulnerable. I would be stopped or woken up. He would be standing over me, angry. The female police officer clarified what I meant: I was lying down, and he was standing over me the whole time. I confirmed this; it essentially was a power-over position where I could not escape. The thing is, was he angry at me at that moment, or angry at someone that day, or angry at someone from his past – who knows? The point is, I would experience this, for what felt like hours at a time. He just wouldn't stop. His anger was so expressive and detailed. You could not challenge it, or you would become worse off, and the greater enemy.

This is the part where my mind was racing ahead of my description, and also where you need to understand BSL role shift. In BSL, we remain in the first person, no matter who you are describing. A small shift of your head or body language shows you are shifting from one person to another, to then take on the other person’s mannerism, words/signs and role. There's no "third person" language like "I did this" and "he said this." As someone who works with trauma from the military, this difference in language use of English vs BSL when working with trauma and making sense of the story, especially when asking for someone to explain it for a statement, is really quite key to note. It is this role-shift that unravelled everything for me.

My mind raced ahead because I knew what was about to come in my memory.  I began to drown in the images, merged with my own thoughts and feelings of what I felt I deserved at the time, as well as merging with the role-shifting dilemma. I didn't ‘know’ any of this in the moment; none of this was conscious thought, this is all in hindsight because of what happened next.

All I know was I "heard" a scream, yet my hearing aids were off to manage the sensory overwhelm, so I never know how I ‘heard’ this. My left hand went up to my scalp, and I dug my nails in to tear down at my face. It went to the corner of my mouth and then... the next thing I knew, the police officer was tapping, extremely hard, on my hand. The men were out of the room. Tears flooded out of both eyes as she gestured for me to look at her. I was slumped in the chair, as though I was lying on the bed. I shut my eyes tightly. She tapped hard again, forcing me to come back.

Whenever I recall this, my left cheek aches, a physical memory of my body's reaction to this event. The police woman asked me: "Did he ever attack you?" The strangest thing is, this was all the stuff he repeatedly did to himself, in front of me. He hated those who angered him so much, he wanted to rip off their faces, yet kept directing it at me so many times, that I believed I deserved it.

In the conflicted trauma memory, I role-shifted and became him. At the same time, I gave myself what for years back then, I thought I was deserving of because it was aimed at me, consistently and incessantly for hours at a time with no outlet to escape. However, I knew for a fact, now, many years later, I did NOT deserve it.

We agreed I was unable to continue with the statement. I had only been in there for less than 10 minutes.

When “Support” Labels You Unstable: Mental Health Services and Cultural Ignorance

The police were great and tried to support me. They contacted local mental health services, who, frustratingly, no longer have an agreement with the specialist Deaf mental health services. They told me I was "too unstable" if I dissociated like that. I was amazed. What kind of situation leads you to have trauma victims re-enact a situation in the first person (unintentionally) and then label the ‘victim’ as unstable? It wasn't me being unstable; it was the mental health service's lack of understanding that BSL meant I was describing the situation and role-shifting. I was so angry at them and still feel incredibly let down. I think they are still clueless to their own lack of knowledge.

I searched online for journal articles about dissociation and BSL/role-shifting and found nothing. That said, I wonder if many with my training, expertise and background have experienced this to be able to describe it. That's why I think it's so important to share my story.

The police woman continued to be supportive. Two weeks later, I asked her to come back and tell me what she saw happen. She told me it happened over about 4 minutes. She described what was more physical grabbing of my face, which explains why my left side hurts so much. She admitted that she hadn't seen anything like it in 22 years. The time period shocked me; because I thought, it was 10 seconds or less. I had time missing. I'm aware of other periods where my time awareness is very poor when dealing with stress, but not dissociating like this.

In the first instance, I am incredibly grateful to this police officer, and I continue to see her and show appreciation to her when I can. She could only do what was within her role. The mental health service, however, profoundly disappointed me.

In my anger, I started to write it down. I've used writing over the years, and the anger gave me enough energy to put things on paper. 121 pages later, including evidence of emails and text messages, I had enough for one submission. My local Police Force A said how they saw certain incidents, but it would be a "he said/she said" situation. My aim was not to seek prosecution, but to raise safeguarding concerns about a repeated pattern of abusive behaviour that the children were exposed to. The statement went to social services.

The “Deaf Card” Isn’t Cultural Sensitivity: It’s Dangerous Excusing of Abuse

Social services allowed the Deaf male to wield weapons at professionals, even in front of the children. I have never known a hearing person get away with this, so I don't understand why he did, except for what we know as the "Deaf card." Social services gave it to him: "he is just expressive."

The sheer audacity of that statement, "he is just expressive," echoes every night as I try to find peace. It's a dangerous narrative that not only minimises real threats but leaves children, and adults, exposed to violence under the guise of cultural understanding. This "Deaf card" is not a shield for abuse; it's a weapon against safety and justice.

The specialist psychologist and psychiatrist for Deaf people were unable to do any form of assessment; the aggression was so significant. Surely that in itself is an assessment? But it seems all they could do was give some Deaf awareness tips that had already been completed (but he would tell them anything), and copy and paste very old reports from selective hearing professionals that painted him in a positive light (even those that went out of scope of their profession – but the psychologist didn't spot that).

So, it all clumsily ended up in court by social care, considering what to do. The judge sees the same pattern played out in front of him. No local BSL interpreter would work with this Deaf male, so all the remote interpreters were on a small screen far away on the wall, struggling to cope with two Deaf people in court with one behind a security screen and another demanding much attention. The Deaf male kept firing his solicitors and therefore ended up self-representing in court, turning the courtroom around so that he controlled the court, not the judge. The judge is at the mercy of not knowing what he truly understands, or whether it is just manipulation. But because no one has been able to do an assessment, no one knows. And so, the game plays on, the children are left with no education, exposed to these behaviours as "normal," and no one dares to challenge what is "Deaf."

This is all, a very selective few items of what happened. Sadly there are many more things that happened that are still being addressed.

Support Shouldn’t Be a Fight: Deaf Survivors and Access Denied

What about me? Did I get any support? Years ago, I approached a local organisation for support and gained access to the Freedom Programme. They offered a group program which really enticed me; finally, I would be able to be amongst those who are similar, and feel not so alone! I said I would really need a BSL interpreter. Suddenly, I was shut down. This worker said this wouldn't be possible because the group worked due to the members being victims of domestic abuse. Only after some negotiation did she agree that "their permission would be asked about having an interpreter in the group" I was horrified. They would be asked and have the power to reject me, like my perpetrator? No thanks. I left.
 
I tried to approach a specialist Deaf organisation. A video call was arranged. I waited nervously for the call. It never came. My mind raced. This Deaf male had been going around to the Deaf centre in my old town, trying to turn people against me in the Deaf community and I had people coming to me with stories. He had told professionals allegations that they weren't bothering to ask me about evidence for, claiming he was the victim (once I ever found out anything I was able to show it was part of his game). Had he gotten to this national organisation? I was devastated. This worker never contacted me to follow up. I never dared to ask them.
 
Two years later, this Deaf male was still pursuing his behaviours. The law is now becoming stronger in post-relationship abuse, but it was not existent back then. I approached this specialist Deaf organisation again. They never replied.
 
I went back to my local organisation, still angry with them about the interpreter issue within groups. They profusely apologised and said the worker was no longer employed there, and set up an alternative.
 
Support organisations need to be accessible, at all times. When your confidence is rock bottom, the smallest thing crushes you.
 
I without a doubt, am very fortunate to have all my training background and support network to get my through this. Not everyone has this. If someone with my knowledge and support had to fight this hard, what hope is there for others?
 
 What Must Change Now: Action Steps for Safeguarding Deaf Survivors
This isn't just my story. It's a reflection of the systemic gaps that impact far too many in our community. By sharing my truth, my hope is not only for justice, but for a future where every Deaf person seeking help is met with understanding, respect, and the profound belief that their experience, their language, and their safety, are paramount. We are stronger together, and our voices, amplified, will demand the change we deserve.

Here's what urgently needs to happen:

1. Police forces and social workers need to be more trauma-informed and Deaf aware, from complaints to statement taking. Understanding the nuances of communication, especially when trauma impacts a person's ability to articulate, is critical. In the UK, access to qualified BSL interpreters in emergency and social services remains woefully inadequate. Studies show that Deaf women are two to three times more likely to experience domestic abuse than hearing women, and around 22 Deaf women are at risk of abuse every day. This gap is unacceptable and directly impacts victims like me and it impacts children.
 
2. Mental Health Services: Research and understanding into dissociation within BSL and support from mental health services is desperately needed. The lack of existing research means that professionals are ill-equipped to understand and support Deaf individuals experiencing complex trauma responses.
 
3. Courts need to be more Deaf aware. The court system must ensure genuine accessibility and understanding of communication differences, and how this impacts the dynamics of a case. This includes understanding potential manipulation tactics related to perceived communication barriers.
 
4. Psychologists and Psychiatrists working with Deaf people need to consider whether they are trained in other areas: e.g., domestic abuse, and able to spot and assess, particularly with the lack of validated scales, behaviours that may be leading to the dynamics, including within their reports. Do not just repeat Deaf Awareness tips and do not just copy and paste from hearing professionals without validation of their work.
 
5. Deaf hierarchies and Deaf organisations: accountability is needed. I have seen some individuals being referred to who were a brick wall to me, making me wonder if my perpetrator had influenced them. Why was your service so poor? The trust placed in specialist Deaf organisations is immense, and when that trust is broken, it can be devastating for individuals who already face significant barriers.
 
How many others have faced similar barriers, had their trauma dismissed, or been failed by the very systems designed to protect them? This isn't just a plea; it's a testament to the resilience of those who endure, and a challenge to all authorities: it's time to truly listen, to truly understand, and to dismantle the abusive dynamics you are inadvertently reinforcing.
 
The nightmare hasn’t ended for many. But if we listen, truly listen with our minds, we can wake up to something better.
 
Did You Know?
 

·        SignHealth. (2014). Deaf Health Report.
https://signhealth.org.uk/resources/research/

·        SignHealth. The Hidden Violence Project. (2009)
https://signhealth.org.uk/services/domestic-abuse/

·        Equality and Human Rights Commission. (2019). Making Justice Work: Experiences of Disabled People in the Criminal Justice System.
https://www.equalityhumanrights.com
 
·        Personal search (2025) found no peer-reviewed research on BSL role-shifting and dissociation.
 
 

 

#deaf #disability #trauma