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Male Domestic Abuse - The Cost of Silence for Men

  • Writer: Stephen
    Stephen
  • Mar 2
  • 4 min read

Male Domestic Violence, Masculinity, and the Hidden Barriers to Speaking Up


Today, as I write this, I turn 55.


Birthdays tend to invite reflection. This one feels particularly significant because I am writing about male domestic abuse - something that has shaped my life in ways I only fully understood years later.


Before I had language for words like violence, protection, or masculinity; domestic abuse was already present in my story. My father stayed silent about it. He believed that silence was the way to protect me. That led to me staying silent when I became the focus after he left.


That understanding has shaped how I think about men experiencing domestic violence today.


The Statistics on Male Victims of Domestic Abuse


When conversations about domestic abuse begin, they often begin with numbers.


The Office for National Statistics reports that men represented roughly 41% of domestic abuse victims in England and Wales in 2024/25 (Crime Survey for England and Wales, adults aged 16+).


That figure surprises many people.


When I ask audiences what percentage they believe male victims of domestic abuse represent, most suggest single digits or the low teens. The gap between perception and reality is significant. It tells us something about the cultural story we have absorbed.


A man standing alone reaching out for help

It is entirely right that we continue to highlight the severity and frequency of violence against women. The consequences can be devastating and, in many cases, lethal.


But when domestic abuse is culturally framed as something that happens primarily in one direction, men experiencing abuse can struggle to recognise themselves in the narrative. If abuse is something that “doesn’t happen to men,” then men may not name what is happening to them.


However, if you cannot name it, you're unlikely to seek help.


The Policy Framing - And Why It Matters


There is also a broader systemic tension that deserves honest reflection.


Within the UK Government’s Violence Against Women and Girls (VAWG) strategy, men make up around 38% of victims of offences that fall under that framework, depending on the dataset and age range used. Under 16s are not fully captured within the national Crime Survey statistics. Male victims of sexual violence are included within the strategy, often through addendum acknowledgement rather than central framing.


The addendum matters because it represents progress.


But when male survivors are referenced within a strategy not named for them, the message (even if unintended) can sometimes land as: you are secondary.


For men already reluctant to identify as victims, already navigating stigma around masculinity, and already facing complexities in the legal definition of rape in England and Wales, that marginal positioning has consequences.


Men are less likely to report rape, sexual assault, or domestic abuse. When they do, they are often not believed. Some men do not recognise coercion, emotional abuse, or sexual assault as abuse at all.


Policy framing, cultural narrative, and personal silence can begin to reinforce one another.


Why Men Don’t Report Domestic Abuse


In my work, I rarely meet men who are unaware that something is wrong. What I do encounter is complexity.


Silence is often protective and often rooted in:


  • Shame about being harmed

  • Fear of not being believed

  • Concern about losing access to children

  • Financial dependency

  • Loyalty or love

  • Hope that the situation will improve

  • A belief that enduring hardship is part of being a man


For my father, silence was protection. He absorbed what he could in order to shield me, and eventually left in an attempt to protect me further.


Many men describe similar beliefs.


They stay silent because they believe speaking up will escalate conflict, destabilise family life, or cause greater harm. They minimise their experience; they tell themselves it is not 'that bad' so they try to manage it alone.


Layered onto this is a powerful cultural script: strength equals stoicism. Vulnerability equals weakness. If masculinity has been shaped around dominance and control, acknowledging victimhood can feel identity-shaking.


This is not weakness. It's social conditioning.


The Hidden Impact of Silence on Men’s Mental Health


The cost of silence is rarely immediate. More often, it builds over time and comes out as:

  • Irritability

  • Withdrawal

  • Anxiety

  • Low mood

  • Overwork

  • Increased alcohol use

  • Erosion of self-worth


Over time, that erosion can deepen into hopelessness.


When we speak about male suicide, we must be willing to examine the hidden pressures beneath it. Domestic abuse is one of those pressures, even if it's rarely named as such.


Men’s mental health cannot be understood without acknowledging the relational contexts in which men live.


Rethinking Strength and Masculinity


As I reflect on my father, I hold a more nuanced understanding of his silence. I see the love in it; but I also see the toll it took.


I sometimes wonder what might have been different if he had felt able to speak - if there had been language available to him' if he'd believed he would be heard.


This conversation is not about competing harms.


Women experience serious and often lethal domestic violence at deeply concerning rates. At the same time, a significant proportion of men experience domestic abuse and sexual violence, often in silence.


If we are serious about reducing harm, our language, policies, and support services must allow men to recognise themselves within them.


Men will not step forward into spaces where they feel unseen or disbelieved.


Strength does not have to mean silence.


A redefined masculinity might look like this: speaking about harm not as a betrayal of identity, but as an expression of it.


If You Are Experiencing Domestic Abuse


If you are a man reading this and recognising parts of your own experience, you are not alone.


Silence may once have been a way of coping or protecting. It does not have to remain your permanent strategy.


There are specialist services that support male victims of domestic abuse. Speaking to a therapist, GP, or trusted professional can also be a first step or reach out toan organisation like We are Survivors or Mankind.


If you work in leadership, policy, or community roles, consider this:

  • Do the systems you are part of make room for men to speak without feeling that doing so diminishes anyone else?


The cost of silence is high.


The question is whether we are prepared, collectively, to lower the cost of speaking.


If you want to reach out to me about this, click the link below:



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