However a woman presents in court or child protection matters, it is used against her. There is no ‘right’ way to sound, look, or respond. In fact, every way is wrong.
We see this pattern repeatedly. When a woman appears calm, composed or emotionally contained, it may be taken as evidence that she hasn’t really been affected, casting doubt on whether abuse occurred at all. If she becomes visibly upset, she risks being dismissed as overly emotional or ‘hysterical’, undermining her credibility. If she expresses anger, it can be reframed as vindictiveness, suggesting ulterior motives rather than a response to harm.
If she is calm, then her experiences are doubted.
If she is distressed, then her experiences are doubted.
If she is angry, then her experiences are doubted.
This is a triple bind. There is no credible way for a woman to conduct herself. It is also in direct contradiction to what we know. Trauma survivors may present in vastly different ways; suppressing outward emotion and appearing calm and assertive, or presenting with extreme distress. All these responses are normal. In fact, rather than exaggerating, survivors are often good at self-assessing their own safety in family violence situations, or they may even understate the risks.
Women may minimise or withhold disclosure out of fear for their children or themselves. That fear is well-founded. After separation can be the most dangerous time. There is an increased risk of assault, stalking and murder for both women and their children. At the same time, a mother’s ability to protect her children may decrease after separation, particularly when the perpetrator has unsupervised contact.
These dynamics don’t exist in a vacuum. Perpetrators often actively work to deliberately undermine the mother-child relationship. This can include manipulating children, employing the family law and child protection systems against the mother, insulting the mother in front of the children, and conditioning the children to blame and/or distance themselves from her. Children themselves may not fully disclose abuse, or may align with the perpetrator out of fear. In some cases, this contributes to the mother being misidentified as the perpetrator. Professionals across legal, health and family services need to recognise these patterns. Without that awareness, there is a real risk of drawing quick, surface-level conclusions that miss the underlying dynamics of abuse.
Legal advice can further impact the likelihood of disclosure. Some women report being advised to minimise or avoid raising family violence in court out of concern they will be seen as exaggerating or attempting to influence parenting outcomes. A report from the Australian Institute of Family Studies backs up this concern. The report found that when mothers made allegations of family violence in court, they were more likely than fathers to provide compelling evidence, and that any evidence did not accompany most allegations by fathers against mothers. However, if fathers did provide evidence, it carried stronger weight in court determinations than evidence provided by mothers. This minimisation and dismissal of allegations and evidence provided by women can lead to critical context and risk remaining hidden.
Mental health adds another layer of complexity. Experiences of anxiety, depression or trauma can be weaponised in litigation. The possibility of subpoenas for mental health records can deter women from seeking support, fearing those records may later be used to discredit them. This is deeply concerning given more than 70% of victim survivors experience symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), and more than 50% experience other mental health issues.
Even treatment can become a point of contention. Therapies such as Eye Movement Desensitisation and Reprocessing (EMDR), widely recognised as the gold-standard trauma treatment, can lead to legal concerns about the reliability of memories. Consequently, this can result in restrictions or complications when women share their experiences of family violence in court.
The message is clear: speak up, and risk being disbelieved, blamed and facing even more difficult circumstances.
At a minimum, the truth of women’s experiences of family violence must be fully heard and genuinely weighed. That requires more than procedural fairness. It requires systems grounded in trauma-informed practice, where responses to abuse are understood, not misinterpreted. Women need to be encouraged to seek the mental help they need, without it being used against them. There also needs to be a shift in responsibility. Accountability must remain with the perpetrator, rather than placing ever-increasing demands on mothers already navigating trauma.
Until then, the question isn’t ‘Why doesn’t she speak up?’ It’s why the system isn’t prepared to hear her – no matter how she speaks.
Kalis Ember
[Photo by Alex Vámos on Unsplash]