Deaf and disabled people who experience domestic abuse face additional barriers to getting help – including a lack of specialist services which understand their specific needs.
In this blog, Amy* shares her experience of navigating the Family Court system as a deaf person.
I’m profoundly deaf. I lost my hearing as an adult, and I don’t use sign language. After years of domestic abuse, I found myself in the incredibly tough position of representing myself in court against my abuser. One of the hardest parts of my experience was finding support.
When I still had more hearing, I managed to get in touch with a mainstream domestic abuse charity. But as my hearing worsened, the difference in support available was stark. It felt like I was on my own when I needed help the most.
Preparing for court (and why it matters)
One thing I’m really glad I did was visit the court in advance.
I booked time with a court usher and spent over an hour there, just getting a sense of the layout and what to expect. It wasn’t an easy experience – I felt like I had to prove both my deafness and my experience of abuse – but it helped me feel a bit more prepared for the actual day.
I also made sure I knew exactly where to park, who would meet me, and how I’d get into the building. When you can’t hear, the last thing you want is to be figuring that out on the spot.
The reality on the day
On the day of my first hearing, I was taken through a side entrance and put in a separate room. I’ve never felt so isolated.
At the next hearing, I was in the same small room as my abuser. I could smell him. I was terrified.
There wasn’t enough consideration of how I would feel in either scenario, both as someone who has experienced domestic abuse and as someone with hearing loss.
It took 40 minutes just to get the remote palantypist (a professional who types what’s being said in real time) set up. And even then, things didn’t run smoothly.
The court computer kept failing. My abuser’s barrister spoke softly – too softly for the palantypist to hear properly. Which meant parts of the hearing simply… disappeared. If you can’t hear what’s being said, you don’t know what you’re missing.
And when the palantypist couldn’t hear something, the hearing didn’t stop. It just carried on without me.
I was told my case was the first in over 30 years in that court to need a palantypist.
Think about that for a moment.
How many deaf people have been through hearings without fully understanding what was happening?
The Family Court makes life-changing decisions. And if you can’t access what’s being said, you’re at a huge disadvantage.
What I’d say to anyone in a similar position
If you take anything from this, let it be this:
- Visit the court beforehand. It really does help.
- Ask for the adjustments you need, like a palantypist or speech-to-text support.
- Speak up if you miss something. Raise your hand and say so – every time.
- And most importantly: you matter.
Your right to understand what’s happening in court is just as important as anyone else’s.
Let’s make sure the system starts acting like it.