I nearly killed myself after being bullied for my deafness

Hearing loss felt taboo; I internalised that it was a bad thing. I was put into the class with those who had learning difficulties and behavioural needs, showing that they did not see me as someone other than a problem. 

I often felt I had to morph myself into a hearing person in order to survive the harsh world that was fit for hearing people, and high school was no different. 

When I finally got a radio aid, aged 12 (which my teacher would wear and I would wear its receiver attached to my hearing aids) and had support from teachers of the deaf on a weekly basis, I finally felt supported. 

But while the aids helped me hear a little clearer, they weren’t 100% accurate so relying on lip-reading was the norm. 

These were things I clearly needed to be able to thrive in high school, but it led to me being a target for bullies who’d shout into the radio aid, or my hearing aids. I was told I would never succeed by my peers. It soon became apparent that many people had internalised ableism when it came to deafness. 

And after the continuous bullying in-person, online, and via threatening cold calls – where I was told to go and die, and called a ‘r****d’, ‘deaf bitch’, and ‘freak’ – I began to wear my hair down to cover my hearing aids, and close off from the world. 

I withdrew from my family because, as hearing people, how could they understand my struggles? I felt that my sibling had it easy because they had their hearing. I didn’t blame anyone for my deafness but I thought it was unfair that it was me. 

So, one summer, aged 14, I tried to end my life. 

I didn’t want to be a burden any more than I already felt I was and I thought the only way for me to escape this misery was to end my life. I wasn’t being heard, and I never saw anyone like me. I felt alone, and that suicide was the only way to ease the pain.

My mum found me before I could do it and it was a wake-up call for me and my family: I needed professional help. Around a month after my suicide attempt I saw a therapist. In my first session, they asked about how hearing loss made me feel, and I remember saying ‘alone’. No one, not even my twin, understood the struggles of a deaf person and how alienated I felt. 

After that, I was prescribed antidepressants. The antidepressants helped balance my moods and I came to realise that being deaf was not a burden. 

After seeing a therapist that specifically worked with deaf and hard of hearing young people for several years, and meeting other deaf and hard of hearing people, things were looking up. I realised that deafness was a spectrum, and that there was no right way to be deaf. I finally felt more comfortable with my own deaf identity. 

I realised that it was up to me to be my own role model, to embrace my deaf identity because when it comes to deaf culture, it’s certainly not a one size fits all situation. 

But the hearing community needs to step up and do more, make content accessible and listen to deaf people and their needs.

I still wear my hearing aids, but I do get nervous about going out as I worry that I’ll be judged for holding up a line, or struggling to read people’s lips. 

Now, I am currently looking at taking an affordable BSL class with my mum and twin, too. 

I have no problem with being deaf, but it has been my mountain to climb. It’s society that has issues with it.

Society should remember that deaf people are no different to hearing people and to speak clearly and slowly. Deaf people do not need to be fixed. 

We deserve to take up space. Just because we’re deaf doesn’t mean that we can’t succeed. Society puts barriers on us, but seeing Rose on Strictly last year hit home for many deaf people and hearing people were finally seeing through a deaf person’s eyes. 

She showed everyone that deafness doesn’t stop us from achieving – we need to be given the opportunities.

Seeing any kind of representation shows deaf children, like I once was, that embracing your deaf identity is the start of a beautiful journey.

Having hearing loss doesn’t mean the world is ending: it is just beginning. It doesn’t define you as a person, in fact, overcoming adversity just shows how resilient deaf people really are.