Post-traumatic growth is one of the most under-talked-about outcomes of domestic abuse, and arguably the only positive one. So why aren’t we talking about it more? Why aren’t we recognising the profound personal growth that can arise from the rebuilding process after abuse?
There are several reasons:
Services are stretched—often to breaking point. In many parts of the country, support is limited, especially for women who are not assessed as high risk. So understandably, the focus is on what matters most: safety. Recognising abuse, protecting survivors and preventing further harm must be prioritised.
I’ve been fortunate to work in an organisation that had the capacity not only to support all survivors referred, but also to offer wellbeing sessions—creative writing, crafts, singing, gardening. It was also a space where new ideas were welcomed. In that environment, work around post-traumatic growth wasn’t just accepted—it was embraced. But that isn’t the norm.
There’s also a real concern about how conversations around growth might land. It can sound, if not handled carefully, like we’re suggesting something good came from abuse—or worse, that the harm is being minimised. Given how long domestic abuse was not taken seriously, that caution makes sense. No one wants to risk undoing that progress.
Another key issue is the risk of placing responsibility on the survivor. Growth can’t be expected, forced, or rushed. Some survivors aren’t ready—and some may never feel able to engage with it. That has to be respected. If handled insensitively, the idea of growth can feel like pressure, or even failure if it’s not achieved. That can reinforce shame, not reduce it. For this reason, some professionals avoid the topic altogether.
Timing matters too. In trauma work, everything depends on readiness. Growth is not where we start—it’s something that may come later, after safety, stability, and processing.
There’s also an understandable discomfort with the idea that anything positive could arise from abuse. But it’s important to be clear: post-traumatic growth doesn’t come from the abuse itself. It comes from the strength, effort, and deep processing involved in healing from it. This discomfort is starting to shift – slowly.
Post-traumatic growth doesn’t replace the reality of harm—it sits alongside it. And when approached with care, sensitivity, and the right timing, it offers something important: not pressure, not expectation—but possibility.