Domestic violence and children: what they see even when they are not in the room

An eight-year-old girl lies in bed with the duvet pulled over her head. Through the wall she hears her father’s voice growing louder and louder, then something falling to the floor, and her mother’s crying, which she is trying to stifle. When the noise dies down, the girl lies awake for a long time. In the morning, at breakfast, her mother says: “Everything’s fine. You were asleep anyway.”

The girl wasn’t asleep. She knows she wasn’t. But she has learned that this is not something you talk about.

Adults who live with violence often hope their children don’t know. That they were in their room, that they were asleep, that they were too young to understand. The hope is understandable — nobody wants their child to go through this. But research and the experience of people who work with children agree: children know far more than adults think. Even when they are not in the room.

Before I go on, something important. I am not a specialist in domestic violence; I am a therapist in training under supervision in marriage and family therapy. This piece is not a tool for judging how dangerous the situation in your family is. If you or your child are in danger, call 112 or the police on 113 (in Slovenia). For a conversation and advice, the SOS helpline for women and children victims of violence, 080 11 55 (in Slovenia), is there for you.

“But he didn’t see it” — why that isn’t true

For a long time, professionals spoke of children as “witnesses” to violence. The word suggested a child standing to one side and watching, like a spectator. Today we know that picture is wrong.

In 2003, Katherine Kitzmann and colleagues combined more than a hundred studies of children growing up with violence between their parents in a meta-analysis. They found that about 63 per cent of these children were faring worse — emotionally, behaviourally, at school — than the average child who had not experienced violence. More importantly still: children who “only” lived with violence at home were not substantially better off than children who had also been physically abused themselves.

The British researcher Jane Callaghan and her colleagues listened to children themselves. Their study carries a telling title — beyond “witnessing”. The children described how they, too, lived under the control one parent exercised over the other: rules about what could be said, when to be quiet, who they could see, how to behave when he came home. They were not just watching. They were living in it.

Slovenian law understands it this way too. The Domestic Violence Prevention Act states explicitly that a child is also a victim of violence when present while violence is committed against another family member, or when living in an environment where violence takes place. You will find a short explanation of what counts as violence in the knowledge base under Violence in a relationship.

What happens inside a child

A child learns about the world through relationships with the people who care for them. When frightened, a child runs to a parent, and the parent calms them — we call this co-regulation. Through thousands of such moments, a child’s nervous system learns that after fear, calm returns.

With violence in the family, this system gets tangled. The source of fear is in the house, often one of the parents. The other parent, who ought to comfort, is frightened, hurt or absent. The child is left with a fear that has nowhere to go. Some children become constantly alert: they track every sound, every change in a voice. Others switch off and seem to be in a world of their own. Still others become loud, angry, “difficult” at school — and these are often the first the people around them notice, yet misunderstand.

When the same person is both a source of comfort and a source of fear, a child may develop a pattern we call disorganised attachment. I wrote about it in Disorganised attachment: when the same person is both comfort and fear. It is not a life sentence, but it does explain why some children behave confusingly around adults, clinging to them one moment and avoiding them the next.

All of this happens even when the child was not in the room. The body does not distinguish between what it saw and what it heard through the wall. The fear is the same.

Guilt and secrecy

Young children think of themselves as the centre of what happens. If their parents argue, they often believe it is because of them — because they were naughty, did badly in a test, asked for something they shouldn’t have. This guilt is invisible, but very heavy.

Violence is almost always accompanied by secrecy. A child learns that what happens at home is not talked about — not with the teacher, not with friends, sometimes not even with the grandparents. Many children carry this secret for years. And because they are not allowed to tell, they are left alone with it.

Some children take on roles that are not theirs. They become their mother’s confidant, guardian of younger siblings, go-between for their parents. Others become the “problem” that draws attention away from the violence. I wrote about the roles children are given in families under pressure in Roles in the family: the hero, the scapegoat, the invisible child. Which was yours?

How it shows in children of different ages

A child’s response depends on their age, their temperament and what they have around them. The overview below is not a diagnostic checklist — it is a rough picture of what research and people who work with children describe. Many of these signs also appear for other reasons; I wrote about how to recognise anxiety in a child in Anxiety in children: how to recognise it and how to help.

I would particularly point to quiet children. A child who is good, causes no trouble, looks after younger siblings and gets good marks may be carrying the same burden as a child who fights in the playground. It is just that nobody sees it, because it doesn’t disturb anyone.

Violence is not an argument

This distinction matters, because parents who have read about the effect of conflict on children sometimes become afraid of every raised voice. An argument between parents does not in itself harm a child — what matters is how it unfolds and whether it ends in repair. I wrote about this in Arguing in front of children: when it harms and how to repair it.

Violence is something else. In an argument, two people disagree but are not afraid of each other. In violence, one person is afraid of the other, one controls the other, one adapts to avoid being hurt. Children feel this difference very precisely. The difference is not in the volume, but in the fear.

That is exactly why advice that applies to arguments falls short where there is violence. It isn’t enough for parents to “make up” in front of the child. The violence has to stop.

What protects a child

Research that follows children from violent families shows that there are factors that protect a child and help them recover. Two matter most.

The first is the end of the violence. No comfort, conversation or therapy can replace a child living in a safe environment. A child cannot recover from something that is still happening.

The second is the relationship with the parent who does not use violence. Alicia Lieberman and Patricia Van Horn, who developed a psychotherapy for young children and their parents after family violence, stress that the relationship between a child and the protective parent is the most powerful medicine. A child needs at least one adult with whom they know they are safe, who can bear their feelings and who helps them understand what happened. That is the child’s secure base.

Something needs saying here that many mothers or fathers find hard to hear: a parent who is a victim of violence is not to blame for what the child went through. Responsibility lies with the person who uses violence. But precisely because that parent is a victim, they need support too — so that they can give the child what the child needs.

Other adults protect as well: grandparents, a teacher, a coach, a neighbour. Someone outside the family who sees the child, believes them and is on their side can mean far more than it seems.

The conversation that follows is composite, not a real person. It shows how a conversation between a mother and child might sound after a hard evening.

“Mummy, is it your fault that daddy was angry?”
“No, sweetheart. It isn’t my fault and it isn’t your fault. Daddy is responsible for what he did.”
“But I was shouting at dinner.”
“Children sometimes shout. That is never a reason for anyone to hit someone. Never.”
“Will it happen again?”
“I don’t know. But I do know I’ll do everything I can to keep you safe. And that you can always tell me how you feel.”

The mother in this conversation does not promise that it won’t happen again, because she cannot know that. But she gives her child three things that matter more than a promise: the truth, relief from guilt, and her presence.

An exercise: talking to your child after a hard evening

This exercise is for the parent who does not use violence. It is not meant for assessing danger and does not replace professional help. It is a framework for a first conversation when your child has experienced something — seen, heard or sensed it.

1. Calm yourself first. A few slow breaths, a glass of water. Your child reads your body more than your words. You don’t have to be perfect, just calm enough to hear them.
2. Name what happened, simply and truthfully. “Last night daddy was very angry and did something that isn’t right.” Don’t deny it (“nothing happened”) and don’t describe details your child doesn’t need.
3. Lift the guilt. Say explicitly that it is not their fault and that a child is never responsible for violence. Repeat it several times, including in the days that follow.
4. Allow every feeling. Fear, anger, sadness, even love for the parent who was violent. A child may love both parents. Don’t ask them to take your side.
5. Agree on one simple safe step. Where they go if it starts again (their room, a neighbour’s), and that they may call 112. Don’t give them the responsibility of protecting you — that is the adults’ job.

If you feel your child needs more than you can give, that is normal. Talk to a paediatrician, the school counselling service or the social work centre. Children and young people can also call the TOM helpline for children and adolescents themselves on 116 111 (in Slovenia).

Where this story is not destiny

After all this, it would be easy to think that a child who lived with violence is marked for ever. That isn’t true, and it is important that I say so.

The same meta-analysis that showed most children faring worse also showed that roughly a third were not. Many children who grew up with violence develop remarkable resilience. Not because the violence didn’t affect them, but because they had people and opportunities around them that helped.

The study of adverse childhood experiences (ACE), led by Vincent Felitti, showed among other things that violence against the mother is one of the experiences associated with poorer health in adulthood. But an association is not destiny. It tells us where the risk is higher; it does not tell us what will happen to any individual person.

Nor does growing up with violence mean a child will become violent or choose a violent partner. Some repeat the pattern; many do not. What helps break the chain is explored in Growing up with violence: what a child carries into adulthood.

What about therapy?

When there is violence in a family, couples therapy or joint family therapy is not the first step. As long as the violence continues, joint sessions are not safe — the child and the parent who is a victim cannot speak openly if they fear the consequences at home.

Safety comes first. Then support for the child (professionals who work with children after violence), support for the parent who is a victim, and a specialised programme for the person who uses violence. Only later, once the violence has ended and safety is assured, can it make sense to work with the family as a whole — and even then only with professionals experienced in this.

If you are an adult who grew up with violence as a child and feel it still follows you, individual therapy can be a place where it begins to unravel; I also work with English-speaking clients. You will find more about how family breakdown affects children and what protects them in Children and divorce: what the research really says about what protects them.

Where to find help

In Slovenia you can turn to:

• 112 — emergency help if you or your child are in immediate danger;
• 113 — the police;
• SOS helpline for women and children victims of violence, 080 11 55 — free conversation, information about safe houses;
• TOM helpline for children and adolescents, 116 111 — for children themselves;
• Klic v duševni stiski (crisis line), 01 520 99 00 — every day from 7 pm to 7 am;
• Samarijan confidential helpline, 116 123 — 24 hours a day;
• the social work centre where you live, safe houses and mother-and-child shelters.

An overview of the routes open to you is gathered in Where to get help with abuse in Slovenia: a map for the first step.

What to remember

• Children pick up on violence in the family even when they are not in the room — they hear it, see the aftermath, feel the mood and live by the rules of control.
• Under Slovenian law, a child is a victim of violence also when living in an environment where violence takes place.
• Children often believe they are to blame. Tell them explicitly that they are not — and say it again.
• What protects most is the end of the violence and the relationship with the parent who does not use violence.
• Growing up with violence is not destiny. Help is available: 080 11 55, 116 111, 112 (in Slovenia).