Tag Archives: family

by | June 17, 2026 · 3:26 pm

What Happens When CPA Continues into Adulthood? The Strategy Behind the Surrender

This week included Elder Abuse Day (15th June), and so we have Freda Quinlan talking about her PhD study, in which she developed a new model of understanding filial coercive control.

By Freda Quinlan, Principal Social Worker (Adult Safeguarding)  and PhD researcher 

When we discuss Child-to-Parent Abuse (CPA), conversations usually focus on adolescents. But what happens when this dynamic tracks into adulthood, colliding with the inevitable vulnerabilities of a parent’s later life? At the recent ‘Reframing Professional Practice’ conference, I explored this through the lens of the FIL-CO Model (Filial Coercive Control). The reality I presented suggests that when abuse persists into adulthood, the dynamics may shift from overt behavioural outbursts to a quieter, less visible, and deeply complex form of domestic entrapment. To respond effectively, we may need to recognise the hidden layers of this ongoing family trauma.

1. The Trap of Silence and Wounded Identity

One of the greatest hurdles that professionals identified in my research is the profound silence of victims. It is dangerously easy for safeguarding systems to misinterpret this silence as a passive ‘lack of will’ or an unwillingness to engage. The FIL-CO Model invites us to look deeper. Many older parents seem to operate under a heavy belief that because they raised the person hurting them, they have forfeited the ethical right to speak out. This potentially creates a ‘dual entrapment’: a state of constant physical dread paired with an internalised shame that tells them their adult child’s actions reflect their own failure as a parent. When a parent stays silent, they may actually be navigating a wounded identity. Their silence is rarely passivity; it can represent an ethically-laden negotiation—a final attempt to protect what is left of their parental legacy.

2. Weaponised Care: Becoming Invisible Within Systems

In later life, a critical shift can occur in how control is maintained. Unlike intimate partner violence, where an abuser merely claims to provide protection, an older parent’s physical or cognitive care needs may often be objectively real. This can create a painful relational paradox. The adult  child is the primordial being the parent is hardwired to protect. As social networks narrow with age, this bond often intensifies, repositioning the adult child as the parent’s primary ‘secure base.’ This biological drive for proximity may override the parent’s cognitive recognition of harm. Abusive adult children strategically exploit this by weaponising actual frailty. By tying control to real health needs, the abuser ensures their dominance is perceived by external observers—and sometimes by the parent—not as abuse, but as a dutiful response to failing health. This is precisely how parents can become entirely invisible within care systems.

3. Epistemic Injustice: The Theft of Reality

The psychological peak of filial coercive control is often reached through epistemic injustice—the systematic erosion of an older parent’s ability to trust their own knowledge and perceptions. Here, gaslighting emerges as a primary tool of entrapment. Abusive adult children may leverage a parent’s minor memory lapses to delegitimise their reality, countering their lived experiences with assertions like, “You’re just getting confused.” This can breed a profound cognitive dissonance that slowly undermines the parent’s sense of personhood. Crucially, this gaslighting appears to interact with structural vulnerabilities. Our institutional systems naturally tend to defer to the younger caregiver, sometimes giving them the benefit of the doubt over an older adult. The abuser may make strategic choices to secure compliance because they know the system will likely reinforce their narrative.

The Path Forward: Re-evaluating Autonomy

Ultimately, the FIL-CO Model frames a parent’s compliance not necessarily as weakness, but potentially as a calculated surrender within a very compromised family and societal context. For professionals, this suggests a fundamental shift in practice. When assessing an older parent, we can rarely simply ask what they ‘want’ on a surface level. If a parent’s will is a strategic response to an unbreakable, lifelong bond, our assessments must account for the painful internal processes they may be navigating. Moving forward, compassionate responses mean looking past the surface of ‘compliance.’ Only when we begin to understand the potential strategy behind a parent’s surrender can we hope to break through the walls of silence and offer true avenues for validation, safety, and hope.

It was great to hear more about Freda’s work in the Reframing Professional Practice conference. Freda is completing her PhD at University College Dublin.

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by | May 28, 2026 · 2:27 pm

Holes in the Wall: Learning Across Contexts – What Our International Series Tells Us

Our international series has, perhaps most importantly, unsettled any lingering assumption that child-to-parent violence and abuse (CPVA) can be understood within a single cultural frame. Across contributions from practitioners and researchers working in diverse national contexts, a dual picture emerges: there are recognisable patterns in how CPVA manifests, yet these patterns are always mediated by local norms, policy infrastructures, and social expectations about family life.

One of the most striking through-lines is the shared difficulty of naming the problem. Whether in the UK, Europe, or beyond, families often encounter a conceptual vacuum. Behaviours that would, in other contexts, be labelled as domestic abuse are reframed as “challenging behaviour,” “adolescence,” or a failure of parenting. This ambiguity is not simply semantic—it has material consequences. When systems do not recognise CPVA as a form of harm, pathways to support remain fragmented or non-existent. Our international contributions consistently point to the same critical gap: recognition precedes intervention. At the same time, the series demonstrates how cultural context shapes the boundaries of that recognition. In some jurisdictions, strong norms around parental authority can obscure young people’s use of violence, rendering it unspeakable or minimised. In others, a more child-centred discourse risks shifting the lens away from parental victimisation altogether. Neither position fully captures the relational complexity of CPVA, which sits uncomfortably between established categories of “child protection” and “domestic abuse.” The international evidence suggests that progress lies not in choosing one lens over the other, but in holding both in tension.

Another key insight concerns the role of services, and their limits. Across case studies, families frequently experience a ‘threshold problem’: their circumstances fall between eligibility criteria for child protection, youth justice, and adult-focused domestic abuse provision. This structural gap is not unique to one country; it is a recurring feature of systems that remain siloed. Where promising practice does emerge, it tends to be characterised by integration—multi-agency approaches that recognise CPVA as both a safeguarding issue and a relational one. Importantly, these approaches move away from individualised blame and towards a more systemic understanding of family dynamics.

Our contributors also highlight the uneven development of evidence-based interventions. While some regions have begun to formalise responses—through specialist programmes or policy frameworks—others remain reliant on ad hoc or locally driven initiatives. This unevenness matters. It not only affects the consistency of support available to families, but also the extent to which CPVA is taken seriously as a policy issue. The absence of robust data in many contexts further compounds the problem, making it difficult to advocate for resources or to evaluate what works. Yet, amid these challenges, there is a cautious optimism. The very existence of an international conversation signals a shift: CPVA is moving from the margins towards greater visibility. By placing these perspectives in dialogue, the series does more than compare national approaches—it enables a form of collective learning. Patterns become clearer, assumptions are tested, and possibilities for innovation emerge.

For practitioners and policymakers, the implications are clear. First, recognition must be strengthened through language, training, and policy alignment. Second, services need to be configured in ways that reflect the relational nature of CPVA, rather than forcing families into ill-fitting categories. Finally, there is significant value in looking beyond national borders. While solutions cannot simply be transplanted, the comparative lens helps illuminate both shared challenges and untapped opportunities. In bringing these insights together, the series underscores a simple but powerful point: understanding CPVA requires us to think across contexts, disciplines, and systems. It is only through this kind of connected analysis that meaningful, sustainable responses can take shape.

Thank you so much for our contributors. The next series is a conference-based series, exploring the narratives we have seen and heard across several conferences Nikki, Jane, and Helen have attended the past few months.

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by | May 4, 2026 · 3:51 pm

Child to Parent Violence and Abuse in Ireland? Some facts.

For our penultimate post from our international perspectives series, we have Dr Declan Coogan, School of Political Science & Sociology, University of Galway, Republic of Ireland. Declan is a leading voice in research relating to non-violent resistance (NVR) and a long-time friend to HITW.

“Child to parent violence and abuse is a longstanding problem but people are now more prepared to seek help” (Michelle Ridgway, Chairperson, Parentline, 17th May 2022).

 What is CPVA?

Child to parent violence and abuse (CPVA) is an abuse of power through which a son/daughter coerces, controls or dominates parents or anyone in a parental role in relation to the child. Child to Parent Violence and Abuse is present in families where parents/ carers feel they must adapt their behaviour due to threats or use of violence/ abuse by a child. CPVA can include physical, emotional, or verbal abuse, and coercive control. This is the definition used by NVR Ireland, a network of practitioners and academics in Ireland committed to working with and researching Non-Violent Resistance (NVR; see www.nvrireland.ie )

CPVA is a significant and growing issue in Ireland. It has been reported as the most common concern among parents contacting Parentline, with about 42% of over 6,000 calls related to this form of violence, highlighting its prevalence in family dynamics. Boys aged 12 to 17 are the primary perpetrators in these incidents, although around 10% of cases involve individuals over 18 years old.

Is there official recognition of CPVA?

No. Despite its increasing visibility through the media and through parents/ carers contacting services about it, there are no official policies or legal definitions specifically addressing CPVA in Ireland, which complicates formal responses to the issue.

Who works with families living with CPVA?

A wide range of services and practitioners in Ireland work with families affected by CPVA, through public and/ or privately provided services. Practitioners involved include social workers, social care workers, family support workers, family therapists, psychologists, and specialised counsellors trained in dealing with family violence and adolescent behavioural issues. These and other practitioners often work collaboratively with community organisations to support families and reduce the incidence and impact of CPVA. There are different specialist interventions that might be helpful for families lining with CPVA, the most widely available of which is Non Violent Resistance (NVR).

Examples of services that provide NVR for parents/ carers/ families include:

Parentline offers a helpline and support focusing on non-violent resistance strategies to help parents manage and reduce CPVA behaviours ( www.parentline.ie ).

Tusla, the Child and Family Agency provides family support services, including interventions in domestic violence situations where children may be involved either as victims or perpetrators; some practitioners in Tusla have received training and provide intervention in NVR as a response to CPVA.

Child and Adolescent Mental Health Services (CAMHS), through the HSE, provides specialist mental health services for young people with severe mental health challenges. Some practitioners from a range of disciplines with CAMHS have received training and provide intervention in NVR as a response to CPVA.

Alcohol Forum Ireland provides support information and services to individuals, families and communities affected by alcohol harm. As part of their work in the north west of Ireland, they provide NVR for parents/ carers where there is CPVA ( https://alcoholforum.org/non-violent-resistance-nvr/ ).

The ISPCC (https://www.ispcc.ie/nvr/ ) offers resources and programmes in response to child to parent relationship challenges, including NVR and other supports for families experiencing CPVA.

Through the University of Galway, Eileen Lauster, Tara Kelly and Declan Coogan have been involved in practice, training and research initiatives have helped to provide insights into family experiences with CPVA, informing practice and policy recommendations.

NVR Ireland accredited practitioners and trainers can be found at https://nvrireland.ie/service-providers-of-nvr-in-ireland/

Overall, CPVA in Ireland is a recognised but under-defined issue, with growing awareness, training and support services aiming to address the complex needs of families living with CPVA. Practitioners and parents in Ireland report that key skills developed through NVR can be very helpful: these include developing an NVR support network; being able to once again be present and visible for your child; de-escalation strategies and reconciliation gestures.

Further supports and information can be found at www.nvrireland.ie and https://www.irishtimes.com/life-and-style/health-family/parenting/child-to-parent-violence-most-common-issue-among-parents-ringing-helpline-1.4876572 and https://www.rte.ie/brainstorm/2022/1116/1336510-child-to-parent-abuse/

More information about the author can be found at https://research.universityofgalway.ie/en/persons/declan-coogan

Thank you so much for this contribution Declan, and we hope subscribers find these links helpful.

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by | January 6, 2026 · 4:01 pm

Inside the Kaleidoscope

Notes from a Pedagogical Study on Child-to-Parent Violence in Italy 

The first in our international contributions comes from Italy. Specifically, Monica Facciocchi, PhD Candidate in Education in Contemporary Society. Here Monica explores her journey into Child-to-parent violence research, and the importance of international collaborations.

  1. From a radical experience deeply rooted in the folds of educational practice

I enrolled on a three-year degree course in Education Sciences because I wanted to work with children in nurseries. Without downplaying the importance of this field of work, I never thought I would have to deal with violence and families whose wounds were so deep and fresh that they were still bleeding. I first encountered the lives and stories of troubled teenagers and their families about ten years ago. Having recently graduated, I was ready to enter the world of work as a professional educator. The first services I worked in were residential communities for minors from difficult backgrounds. However, I chose to change my path because I felt I needed to listen to and welcome what often no one wants to approach: what we pretend not to see, yet which affects us all with its devastating, disruptive impact. I wanted to accompany people to see not so much the light at the end of the tunnel — nothing so salvific — but at least a possible path, a possible way forward. I approached stories as carefully as I would handle crystal, to help people see the beauty that is always hidden somewhere. 

Violence. The kind I have witnessed first-hand, felt on my own skin, and had to acknowledge in my own story and in those of others. My desire has always been to break the cycle of ill-fated, predetermined destinies and promote metamorphosis. You only see the butterfly after it has been a chrysalis. How does the saying go? ‘The flutter of a butterfly’s wings can cause a storm on the other side of the world.’ Supporting those wingbeats is what I want to do. I believe this sparked my interest in such a delicate and complex issue as the one I am about to discuss. I am not a ‘classic academic’. I never have been. I ended up doing a PhD partly because of events that happened to me, partly thanks to important people and mentors who have influenced my life, and partly because of small choices that I made over time without any grand design or great aspiration to change the world. However, I have always striven for change and transformation. The path that led me to doctoral research was challenging, a turning point and a leap into the unknown.

A few years ago in October, I was in the office of my thesis supervisor, Professor Pierangelo Barone – one of the people I could never thank enough for encouraging me to take the leap I mentioned. At one point, Alessandro Rudelli, an honorary judge at the Milan Juvenile Court – a brilliant, sensitive and humble figure, which is no small thing – entered the office and began talking about an issue he had conducted quantitative research on in court: child-to-parent violence. This marked the beginning of a collaboration between individuals and professionals who were directly involved in working with ‘difficult’ families and adolescents. When I started researching child-to-parent violence in Italy, I had no idea where this path would lead. I had encountered a form of violence towards parents by their children in the lives of the people I had worked with as an educator, but I hadn’t really dealt with it. In Italy, I found very little literature or research on the subject: just a few articles in the fields of criminology, sociology and psychology. However, as an academic in the field of education, I was struck by an absence: where was the voice of education in all this? My research essentially arose from this absence, and ultimately from a desire to restore pedagogy to its central role as a space for reflection and mediation between disciplines and translation between worlds. This would enable it to engage with the complexity of situations rather than reducing them. 

  1. The beginning of a search: points of light and areas of shadow

So I began my research. Understanding the subject was extremely difficult: there were multiple definitions, characteristics and risk factors, and few studies on how to prevent this type of violence. The first step, therefore, was to collect case files from the Juvenile Court of Milan, which had privileged access to the tortuous paths of families with violent children. After receiving approval from the court’s president, Dr Maria Carla Gatto, in the summer of 2024, I visited the court almost daily to read what are known as ‘administrative files’ in Italy. These files contain documents and reports written by various professionals, such as psychologists, social workers, educators, psychiatrists and doctors, as well as law enforcement officers. These documents aim to narrate and capture, from a specific disciplinary perspective, the turbulent journeys of families in difficulty. Particular focus is given to the re-educational dimension that characterises the interventions to be carried out with minors.

At the same time, I undertook another investigation guided by a different question: what interventions are currently being implemented in Italy to support families, parents, and adolescents experiencing these challenges? The answer lay in a single project that explicitly addressed this type of violence in Italy: the ‘Le Querce’ project, run by the ‘Gruppo Abele’ non-profit organisation. Le Querce offers psychoeducational support to parents and provides a safe apartment where they can stay when the situation at home becomes unbearable, when “home” is no longer safe, secure, familiar or habitable. Immersing myself in the project was particularly significant for me. I witnessed first-hand the suffering, the boundless love bordering on self-annihilation and the sacrifices bordering on martyrdom. Essentially, it was a moving story of pain, but above all of boundless love and lost hope. 

I wondered what the widespread perception was of a phenomenon so often confined within the family home in Italy, and what the public narrative surrounding it was. I discovered that many parents were asking for help on the online forum Quora. This forum allows anyone to ask questions of any kind, which anyone can answer. Setting aside the possibility that these questions could have been posted by fake profiles, I was struck by the hundreds of responses from the public. Many responses praised a return to violence as a method of education and blamed parents who were unable to educate their children in a way that was often harsh and stigmatising. This secondary victimisation meant that not only did parents feel guilty for not being the ‘good parents’ they had imagined themselves to be, but they were also criticised for being victims of violence. They went from being victims to being guilty of that same violence.

  1. The challenging and necessary task of narrating violence: the birth of the blog “incatrAmare”

The blog ‘incatrAmare’ was born out of a total lack of accessible, curated, filtered, valid and concrete information and content for the general public regarding the phenomenon of child-to-parent violence. I realised the need for greater dissemination of informed information through the interviews I conducted with professionals and parents as part of the ‘Le Querce’ project, as well as from the devastating lack of effective, welcoming and understanding support highlighted by comments on the Quora platform. The name ‘incatrAmare’ is made up of two Italian words: ‘tar’ and ‘love’. It is the term that a mother used in one of my interviews to describe her experience with a violent son: tarred, entangled and trapped, yet still full of love. Inspired by the content and structure of Helen Bonnick’s blog, ‘Holes in the Wall’, I decided to start this informative blog, and I am now delighted to contribute a fragment of my work and research history to it. ‘IncatrAmare’ was created to act as a bridge between academic research, work and training experiences in Italy, local scientific publications, and the wider public: parents, professionals, students, and individuals interested in understanding more about a widespread yet rarely discussed phenomenon. The blog includes a section dedicated to mapping organisations and professionals in Italy who devote part of their work to responding to child-to-parent violence in terms of training or intervention. Additionally, the site hosts research, publications, and events related to the topic within the Italian context.  One section of the blog recounts my research journey and the publications I have produced on the subject. Another section hosts articles that I have written with a popular science focus. Finally, there is an open section where anyone can contact me directly to publicise an initiative, request help or ask for further information.

  1. A glimpse into the methodology

My research gradually expanded to include various fields, such as the Milan Juvenile Court, the Le Querce project, and the online forum Quora, as well as various objects, including administrative files, interview transcripts, and Quora blog comments. These differences were reflected in the various methods used to collect data: document analysis, mediated interviews and netnography. The mediated interview is characterised as both a semi-structured interview and a process involving the use of black-and-white photographs chosen by the researcher to evoke the symbolic and unconscious dimensions of lived experiences. Netnography, on the other hand, is characterised as the systematic, interpretative and contextual analysis of conversations published by users within the questions and answers on the platform. The aim is to understand the communities that form around the topics covered, and their attitudes, values, discursive practices, motivations and social dynamics. Therefore, the research takes the form of a multiple case study in which different narratives and perspectives coexist, beginning with some common ground. First and foremost, the study’s queries: 1) How can the pedagogical perspective contribute to the theoretical understanding of child-to-parent violence? 2) What methods and tools for education can be used to support interventions in cases of child-to-parent violence, and in what way? Secondly, all the collected data is textual in nature. I have decided to conduct a thematic analysis through the lens of Bronfenbrenner’s ecological approach. I chose this approach because literature on educational and family pedagogy, as well as research into child-to-parent violence, has often used this framework successfully to understand family dynamics. This framework considers family dynamics as a whole, rather than focusing on one element, and highlights the elements that co-occur with specific phenomena within families.

  1. Research abroad: the approach of Nonviolent Resistance in Ireland

During my studies of existing interventions for cases of child-to-parent violence, I was most interested in the Nonviolent Resistance approach, which was initially developed by Professor Haim Omer. This approach involves working directly with parents to establish what the aforementioned scholar calls ‘new parental authority’ by being present for the child and resisting violent behaviour. Parental responsibility and duty should not be understood in an individualistic way, confined within the family sphere, but rather as a task that parents undertake with the support of the wider educational community. From an educational point of view, I found Professor Declan Coogan’s development of NVR training for social workers in the Irish context particularly interesting. I met Professor Coogan at a conference in Amsterdam, and I am currently at the University of Galway. I conducted research with Declan and Maria Power from the Western Region Drug and Alcohol Task Force on the strategies and learning contexts that characterise NVR training for social workers. I also had the opportunity to learn more about some of the services Ireland has developed to provide professional support to struggling parents, such as Parentline — a free, confidential helpline offering support, information and guidance on all aspects of parenting.

  1. Between the cracks: an opportunity for discussion

In the stories I have collected from courts, social centres and online posts, violence never appears as an isolated act. Rather, it is an extreme form of communication, a desperate cry for help. A child who screams, pushes and breaks things does not necessarily want to destroy; often, they simply want to be heard by a world that no longer knows how to welcome them. A parent who defends themselves, remains silent, or gives in is not just a victim; they have lost their voice and are unable to express their pain. If we understand pedagogy in its deepest sense as the art of relationships and transformation, it can help us precisely here: to interpret violence without justifying it and to give it human meaning beyond pathological or legal considerations.

In the face of such intimate and painful suffering, I believe that pedagogy should not offer immediate solutions, but spaces for thought. Pedagogy is not only the science of ‘how to do’, but ‘how to think’ – and perhaps we need the latter more today. Thinking pedagogically does not mean intervening to ‘correct’ the family, but rather accompanying it in generating meaning and significance within a broader framework. This blog is aptly titled Holes in the Wall: the walls represent silence, shame and isolation. However, it is the holes and cracks that allow us to breathe, look outside and glimpse the other. In a sense, my research seeks precisely this: gaps in the Italian discourse on child-to-parent violence. Every story, if we really listen to it, can become an opportunity for learning. Perhaps when we start to consider violence as something to be understood rather than merely endured or judged, we have already begun to transform it.

Thank you to Monica for this blog, and we are sure her reflections will be the first of many blogs from across the world demonstrating how violence must be understood, and through this understanding we can attempt to prevent it.

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by | December 8, 2025 · 4:30 pm

The right support

For the final part of our series on motherhood, we have a submission from ‘Kelly’, who found herself “rock bottom” in 2023…

“We now have a situation in which staff feel they are compelled to give your child exactly what he wants, on his own terms, in order to avoid an outburst.  He does not appear able to cope with a situation in which he does not get his own way.”

Email from my child’s headteacher, March 2023.

Just re-reading that email has brought back how I felt when I read it, prior to my son, age 7, being excluded from school due to his harmful impulses.  I felt at rock bottom – totally desperate and alone.  In the months that followed, I wasn’t sure we would ever be in a position where we could have any kind of quality of life.  My child was at home, with me, and I was left to manage these behaviours for the most part, alone.  I wasn’t sure how he would ever be able to access any kind of education.  I wasn’t sure what was going to happen to my job – something I had worked hard for and loved.  We were in a deep, dark hole and I could not see any way out.  My son had started to internalise that he was ‘bad’ and ‘naughty’ and I constantly felt judged as a parent (something which I now realise is a common, shared experience).

As I write this and reflect on a traumatic time, I feel very emotional.  How I felt then, could not be further from how I feel writing this today.

In September 2023, after 6 months away from education (which felt like such a long time, but now I speak to parents who have children in similar situations who have been out of school for years), my son joined an SEMH (Social, Emotional, Mental Health) primary school. To say that our experience with this school has been life-changing is not an exaggeration.

Going back to school, after a period of time away, is difficult for any child; especially for a child who associates education with a negative experience. Those first few weeks, getting him into school was tough. The difference? Professionals who understood his needs and supported him.  The difference for me – no longer getting at least one phone call a day (another shared experience, I’ve found, is the feeling of your heart sinking when you see ‘School’ flash up on your mobile!). 

We are now two years into our SEMH specialist education journey and my son is happy and confident. I always say we are now thriving, not just surviving. Here are our highlights:

  • Amazing, amazing, amazing staff.  Working with SEMH children isn’t easy.  The staff fully understand the needs of each individual child – in mainstream, it always felt like my child’s behaviour was something to be controlled, rather than understood, for the sake of the other children in the class. Smaller classes and more adults allow each child to focus on learning.
  • Opportunities – behaviour was such a concern that things like trips and experiences would be limited in mainstream.  SEMH school has allowed my son to fully partake in school life – the joy of seeing your child perform in a school Christmas production when you didn’t think that would ever be a possibility – or the confidence to send him away for a residential.  Just amazing!
  • Reflection – children are encouraged to reflect on harmful behaviour both in school and at home. I can communicate with school, so he is held accountable by a professional he respects.  We have benefitted from parent-school meetings with the parent support advisor, teachers and the CAMHS worker attached to the school. We discussed behaviour as a family and came up with a clear plan for home.  This has really supported our home relationships to be positive. I’ve never felt judged, only supported.
  • An opportunity to meet other parents in the same position.   

I hope that this post has demonstrated that it is possible, as both a parent and child, to come out of a dark place.  I’m sure we will face more challenges in the future but I now feel supported by professionals and able to face these.

I know not all families are lucky to have fantastic SEMH provision. I think it is so important to recognise that mainstream can not always provide this targeted intervention.  I believe that proper investment from the government in SEMH provision and staff, would support children who are at risk of exclusion or disengaging from school (and therefore more likely to be at home engaging in harmful behaviours that involve family or carers), to be happy, understand themselves and positively contribute to society.  It is my dream that all families can benefit from this in the way we have.

‘Kelly’ and her family are the perfect example of how small changes (such as an appropriate school provision) can have a profound impact on quality of life of a whole family. Do you have such positive examples? Do let us know if you do!

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by | December 4, 2025 · 2:08 pm

1,000 children

It’s taken a little while to pull together some thoughts regarding the recent BBC article on the adoption crisis which has forced many children back into care: https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/articles/c0kdv1x83gko

You can read Jane Griffith’s eloquent response on behalf of CAPA to this here: Jane’s response

This piece seems to solidify much of what we have spoken about over over two recent themes: adoption and motherhood. Whilst the focus of the article is very much on parents, and we should never minimise the impact on fathers (indeed we plan to have this as a focus soon!), it was Verity who was arrested after her son accused her of assault, it was Verity who felt suicide may be her only option for escape; and both parents were threatened with prosecution for abandonment. Overall, the piece is a frustrating demonstration of what adoption activists have been talking about for well over a decade. Why has so little changed?

The article is harrowing, and the journalism and efforts of the families to explore the complexity families are often having to juggle alone is done with sensitivity for everyone concerned. As Fiona Wells and PATCH frequently state, if the money is there to place children back into care, the money is there to support the families to prevent this from happening. Traumatised children and teenagers not only require, but deserve compassion and support, and by leaving this the sole responsibility of their adoptive parents means that trauma is prolonged and experienced vicariously.

In the article, Liam, a teenager who was returned to care reflects “I think if social services had sorted themselves out, and I think if we had sorted ourselves out, personally, we could have pushed through and maybe it would have been a different situation“. This is an important reflection by Liam, who recognises a family’s desire to improve their circumstances (“if we had sorted ourselves out“), but this cannot be done without services stepping in to provide the required support (“if social service had sorted themselves out“). Thus, this is not about blame, but about recognising the value of working together to support traumatised children and the parents who love them. If a 17 year old can understand that, why does the law find it so difficult?

John Stuart Mill (English philosopher) famously stated that a moral society can be judged by how it treats its most vulnerable. Reflecting on this idea in the context of the article, where traumatised children are left without intervention, and parents seeking support are threatened with police action… it’s a damning indictment of where we may and how far we have left to go.

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by | November 22, 2025 · 9:00 am

Mothering, a series

This series on motherhood has been incredibly evocative.

Mothering is often as much an identity as it is a title, and there is something deeply painful when things go wrong. Sophie Cero’s work captures this agony beautifully in her PhD work; that living with filial harm can feel like being stuck in a horror film, particularly as a mother. Artistic representations of child-to-mother conflict, violence, abuse have been captured in so many ways that it feels deeply meaningful that Sophie was able to capture this in a variety of artistic modalities… capturing more than words alone ever could.

The mother as both “the victim and creator of the problem” is also something captured in Kia Abdullah’s “what happens in the dark”, reviewed by Sarah Griffiths. Centralising the mother and her relationships within the story, brought to the fore the complexity of what it is to be a woman; to have a career, a marriage, friendships, a child and so many experiences that remain untold. Many experiences remain hidden and “child to parent violence and abuse” feels very much hidden by a woman who is trying to be the best in every aspect of her life. An experience which resonates with many mothers, I am certain.

Mothers often have to advocate for themselves and their child(ren), and having allies in this area is important. That’s why we were so please to see the Oxford University piece of Professor Rachel Condry. Rachel has been a firm supporter of mothers navigating justice systems and safeguarding systems. Her work has been ground-breaking in recognising the challenges experienced by mothers, and how much of the harm they endure is due to the position they need to take up as caregiver. This role of ‘mother’ is often viewed by services as their primary identity, ignoring the complexity of women. This subsumed mothering identity was also explored by Abi Jones in her heart-wrenching blog highlighting how important it was for her to make sense of what was happening to her and her children when services ignored her desperate need for help.

We will soon come to the end of our Motherhood series, but it is clear this will not be the end of us talking about mothers.

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by | October 3, 2025 · 9:40 am

Post-Adoption Support in Crisis: Families Speak Out 

If you are at all interested in Adoption and LinkedIn, you will already be aware of Claire Agius, a PhD student from Manchester Metropolitan University, who has recently submitted her PhD and kindly created a post on her emotionally-aware research with adoptive parents for the final blog on our adoption series.

Adoption is one route to permanence for children who cannot remain with their birth families. Many have lived through neglect, abuse, or significant early adversity. Adoptive parents step forward to provide stability and care, but they cannot heal trauma alone. When systems delay, misdirect, or fragment support, families are left carrying unbearable burdens, and the stability adoption promises is put at risk. 

My doctoral study explores the impact of raising a child with trauma on adoptive parents’ mental health and examines how systemic structures help or hinder families. Conducted between 2022 and 2025, the research combined in-depth interviews with adoptive parents and post-adoption professionals with a participatory, film-based process that enabled parents to revisit and re-interpret their own stories. Parents co-edited emotional “touchpoints” from their filmed interviews, first for emotional processing, and later for collaborative meaning-making. This innovative two-stage process revealed not only what families said in the moment, but how they later understood their struggles, providing rare insight into why problems persist across time. 

Methods and Approach 

The study engaged adoptive parents and post-adoption professionals across England. A distinctive feature was the use of filmed narrative interviews, later revisited with parents through an adapted Experience-Based Co-Design (EBCD) process. Parents co-edited their most painful or telling moments, “emotional touchpoints”, which became the basis for deeper reflection and co-analysis. Importantly, emotions often shifted between the first and second viewing: what was raw distress initially was later reinterpreted with new perspective. This temporal dimension offered a richer understanding of how families live with and make sense of ongoing struggles. 

Key Findings: Five Causal Mechanisms 

The research identified five systemic mechanisms that help explain why adoptive families encounter the same challenges again and again: 

Crisis-Led Logic → Invisible Early Struggle 

Services are triggered by visible breakdown, not early distress. Parents described desperate pleas for help that went unanswered until crisis loomed. Professionals echoed this dynamic, explaining that thresholds and funding criteria meant they were often forced into reactive rather than preventative roles. 

Unsupported Care Work → Relational Burnout 

Parents’ own emotional needs are rarely recognised. The relentless labour of advocating, soothing, and managing daily crises falls heavily on them, with little formal or informal support. Professionals noted that while therapeutic resources might be offered for the child, parental wellbeing was considered a lesser priority in post-adoption support planning. 

Mistrust and Marginalisation → Silenced Insight 

When parents seek help, they are too often met with suspicion or blame. Instead of being recognised as experts on their children, they are treated as the problem. Several professionals reflected on how mistrust erodes open communication, acknowledging that risk-focused cultures can silence parents’ perspectives. 

Systemic Fragmentation → Constant Bureaucratic Burden 

Families must navigate siloed services, repeated assessments, and defensive institutions. Parents spoke of becoming “experts by necessity” in order to access what their children required. Professionals described a fragmented landscape that left them struggling to coordinate support or act decisively across organisational boundaries. 

Service-Defined Progress → Residual Struggle 

Support is often withdrawn once narrow service criteria are met, even if families continue to struggle behind closed doors. Services may focus on keeping placements intact while overlooking the wider toll. Professionals described similar frustrations, noting that time-limited interventions often forced them to close cases prematurely, even when they suspected families would continue to need help. 

Impacts and Implications 

Together, these mechanisms explain why adoptive families experience persistent strain. Parents’ mental health suffers, siblings carry secondary trauma, and placements teeter on the edge of breakdown. For government, the cost is twofold: the human suffering borne by families, and the financial burden of avoidable crises across social care, education, and health. 

The findings carry important implications at multiple levels: 

  • For families: parents’ mental health declines under unsupported care work, and siblings experience secondary trauma that remains invisible to services. 
  • For systems: a crisis-led, fragmented model means resources are mobilised late, at greater human and financial cost. The Adoption Support Fund, while valuable, is shaped by bureaucratic gatekeeping. Parents described decisions made by staff without sufficient trauma knowledge, leading to inappropriate or stop–start provision. Trauma-informed practice must extend from top to bottom of the system, including commissioners and fund-holders as well as frontline practitioners. 
  • For knowledge and practice: by marginalising adoptive parents’ perspectives, services lose access to vital expertise. This study shows that film-based, participatory methods can surface and revisit lived experience in ways that expose persistent problems and open space for collaborative solutions. 

Recommendations 

Based on these findings, five preliminary priorities for reform are proposed: 

  1. Invest in early relational support – Commission services that intervene proactively, building resilience within the first year post-placement. 
  1. Support the whole family – Embed provision that includes parents’ mental health and siblings’ wellbeing alongside the child. 
  1. Reduce bureaucratic gatekeeping – Simplify and standardise access to the Adoption Support Fund so families can receive timely help. 
  1. Embed trauma-informed practice system-wide – Extend trauma awareness beyond frontline therapists to commissioners, fund-holders, and policymakers. 
  1. Value lived expertise through co-design – Involve adoptive parents directly in shaping provision, policy, and evaluation frameworks. 

Conclusion 

Adoptive families are willing partners in the work of healing trauma. But they cannot do it alone. By using filmed interviews and a co-interpretive process, this study demonstrates both the human and systemic costs of current approaches, and the potential of participatory, trauma-informed methods to generate change. Adoption will remain a sustainable route to permanence only if support is early, relational, and family-centred, and if adoptive parents’ lived expertise is recognised as central to system redesign. 

Claire’s ’emotional touchpoints’ will no doubt resonate with many families, and what we really like about her work is the relevance to practice. The recommendations may seem common sense, but they highlight the very real challenges experienced by adoptive families. Do connect with Claire if you are interested in learning more.

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by | July 24, 2025 · 8:53 pm

Fellowship Work – Al Coates

The start point is my own home, we’re a family made through fostering and adoption. How that came about is their story but the themes of early adversity, separation and loss, then navigating the care system before being grafted into a home and family are common for the majority of adopted, kinship and fostered children. The impact on them doesn’t require too much imagination or knowledge of child trauma to understand. 

The affect of early life challenges cast a long shadow across my children in different ways. Lots of normal parenting challenges but also meltdowns, dysregulation, shouting, threats, refusal, aggression, destruction, bullying and intimidation became our normal. Behaviour supercharged with, what was often, an intensity and duration far beyond behaviour that parents and carers expect. We found ourselves consumed and exhausted by the challenges, constant accommodation, negotiation, regulation and peacekeeping all the while struggling to keep ourselves sane.  

There was an ebb and flow to our lives, we received support some good and some not so good, it would come and go, interventions and support would run it’s course.We managed at times for a period but then would be drawn into extremes of behaviour that would unravel us all. 

This experience specifically inspired me to consider how services support families made through adoption and kinship arrangements beyond short bursts of intervention. For many families the challenges that they face are enduring and span childhood rather than brief moments in time or developmental phases. This question was the spark for my Fellowship*. 

All this made me question how other countries and contexts supported parents and carers in similar circumstances. I knew, anecdotally, of some services in North America but the nature of the issue means that services supporting families are not always that easy to find. The Fellowship’s purpose is to draw learning from international models and then to see it applied to the UK. 

I decided to undertake my learning online mainly because I didn’t know where to go. The silence around this issue is deafening and having been successful in my application I had a mild panic that I would not be able to identify professionals and services to speak to. I’ll not bore you the trail and where it led me but frequently the key links in the chain were parents and carers who had built on their lived experience to then go on and build, develop or work in services that helped other families. 

Peer support was the cornerstone of so many services that I spoke to (Canada, USA, Republic of Ireland etc.). This was no real surprise, peer support offers specific antidotes to parents and carers who often find themselves isolated both in practical terms due to the physical need to be present with their child and to manage the environment but also the relational isolation that so often occurs. Online communities offer a unique opportunity to connect the caregivers in a way that meets the practical challenges but also the instant and reactive nature of many families’ daily lives. 

Trained and supported peer coordinators/mentors working with clinicians offering interventions to families was a model utilised in Canada. The mentors were able to build onto the connections they had with parents and carers delivered low level but immediate interventions. For example,  writing safey plans, identifying supporters and advocacy with other professionals. Beyond this they understood the clinical interventions being offered and spoke directly to the practitioners delivering them. Carers were supported while they waited for interventions, they were offered support in terms of their own wellbeing and then once the interventions drew to the end they didn’t fall off a cliff edge but remained part of the peer community and if necessary could retain access to the clinicians. 

The benefits of community underpinned by interventions were clear, families spoke of feeling held, understood, supported and validated. They could ‘top up’ their knowledge and seek clarification.   Like all families life would take over, children’s behaviour would ebb and flow but the door remained open with families remaining connected and did not have to start from scratch if they wanted help.  

There was so much more discussed across the conversations I spoke with services in Australia about the model of intervention used for families and with practitioners in the US about respite and the needs of children. There was so many valuable conversations that I decided to release over 20 of the interviews as part of the report as well as the three podcasts that I created with my findings. You can view the report summary and listen to the podcasts here.   

There’s no longer a silence in the UK about challenging, violent and aggressive behaviour in children but there remains no clear consensus on how to help families. My hope is to help move that conversation on. My Churchill Fellowship Report is part of that conversation. I hope people find it at least interesting and at best of value. 

*The Churchill Fellowship is a UK charity which supports individual UK citizens to follow their passion for change, through learning from the world and bringing that knowledge back to the UK. Together the community of Churchill Fellows use their international learning to lead the change they wish to see across every area of UK life. 

60% of adoptive parents say they have experienced violent and aggressive behaviour.  Kinship families are often caring for children with similar biographies that can be compounded by the interfamily challenges and the age and circumstances of the carer. 

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by | June 11, 2025 · 1:10 pm

Is it conflict – or something more? Understanding couple relationship dynamics

As co-founder of We Are Amity CIC, I’m often asked the same question: “Is this parental conflict, or is it something more serious?” When tensions rise at home, it can be hard to distinguish between everyday disagreements and something more harmful. But understanding this difference is vital. It shapes the kind of support we offer, the risks we consider, and the safety we help families create, especially for children. In this article, I explore how to tell the difference between conflict and control and why naming the dynamic matters.

Is it conflict – or something more? Understanding couple relationship dynamics

When tensions between parents rise home, it can be challenging to understand what’s really going on, especially when strong emotions, parenting pressures, or past experiences cloud our judgement.

One of the most common questions families and professionals ask is this:

“Is this conflict between us or is it something more serious, like abuse?”

Understanding the difference isn’t just helpful; it’s essential. It shapes how support is offered, what risks might be present, and how children are protected.

What Is Parental Conflict?

The Department for Work & Pensions released official statistics on the number of children affected by parental conflict in families. The figures showed that 12% of children in couple-parent families had at least one parent who reported ‘relationship distress’ in the 2021 to 2022 survey period. Reducing Parental Conflict – GOV.UK

Parental conflict happens in many families. It often looks like:

  • Heated arguments about parenting, money or other stressors
  • Shouting, blaming or interrupting during disagreements
  • A sense of relationship frustration that builds over time
  • Struggling to resolve everyday arguments

In these relationships, both people usually feel able to voice their views, even if those views aren’t always heard kindly. There’s often mutual stress, shared responsibility, and an underlying desire to resolve things, even if that’s not always successful.

These dynamics can still affect children. Ongoing conflict, especially when it’s loud, unresolved, or frequent, can leave children feeling anxious, caught in the middle, or unsure how to express their emotions. We know this impacts their ability to sleep, do well at school and their emotional outcomes. But crucially, there is usually no ongoing fear or deliberate control in these situations.

Example: A separated couple frequently argue over contact arrangements or money. They both express anger, and communication often breaks down, but neither tries to control the other. Both want to find a way forward, even if they’re stuck on how.

What is domestic abuse?

Domestic abuse is different. It’s not about two people disagreeing. It’s a pattern where one person holds power over the other, using fear, control, and manipulation to maintain that imbalance.

It can show up as:

  • One person constantly feeling afraid to speak or act freely
  • Monitoring phone use, whereabouts, or who someone sees
  • Using finances or children to control or punish
  • Belittling, gaslighting, or turning others against a partner
  • Physical or sexual intimidation, threats, or harm

Unlike parental conflict, abuse often means one person changes their behaviour to keep the peace, while the other’s behaviour goes unchecked. Children in these families may hide their feelings, act as ‘protectors’, or mimic controlling behaviours.

Example: A parent hesitates to speak during meetings because they fear the repercussions at home. They avoid seeking support, knowing their partner reads all messages and accuses them of betrayal. The children speak in whispers, describing the atmosphere as “walking on eggshells.”

Why the lines feel blurry

It feels blurry because there are behaviours in relationships featuring parental conflict as well as abusive ones. Examples of behaviours in both types of relationships can include shouting, swearing, disagreeing, blaming, silence and withdrawal, non-physical and aggression. What matters is the context and intention.

Families don’t always use the word “abuse.” Instead, they say:

  • “We’re just not good at communicating.”
  • “We both have a temper.”
  • “It’s been like this for so long… I don’t even know what’s normal anymore.”

There are reasons people struggle to name what’s happening:

  • It’s become ‘normal’: When someone grows up around control or shouting, they might not see it as unusual.
  • Fear and shame: Admitting abuse can feel like admitting failure, or risking further harm.
  • Control isn’t always obvious: It can be silent, slow-building, and invisible to outsiders.
  • People fight back: Sometimes a non-abusive person may shout or react, leading to confusion about who’s to blame.’

But the key question is this…Does one person consistently feel unsafe, unheard, or unable to live freely?

That’s the difference between conflict and control.

Spotting the signs

Here are some signs that point to unhealthy and potentially abusive dynamics:

  • One person walks on eggshells; the other dominates.
  • Someone changes their behaviour out of fear, not respect.
  • Arguments end when one person gives in, not because a compromise is reached.
  • There’s constant emotional pressure, threats, or manipulation.
  • Children take on adult roles, become anxious, or withdraw.

In contrast, conflict, though uncomfortable, usually allows for mutual input, personal freedom, and emotional repair.

What families and practitioners can do

It’s important not to rush and ‘label’ but not dismiss concerns.

Ask:

  • Does each person feel emotionally and physically safe?
  • Can both people express themselves without fear?
  • Are children thriving or treading carefully?
  • Is there a pattern of control, isolation, or fear?

Whether you’re a family member, friend, or professional, your role isn’t to judge but to listen, notice patterns, and create space for change. That might mean conflict resolution support, therapeutic intervention, or, in some cases, safety planning and protective action.

Final thoughts

Conflict and abuse are not the same, but both affect families deeply, especially children. Understanding differences allows for better support, clearer choices, and safer outcomes.

When we stop asking “Who started it?” and start asking “Who has the power?” we begin to see the dynamics more clearly. For some couples, a relationship breakdown is inevitable, and the conflict is often part of that breakdown. For others who want help and stay together, the right support can be transformative.  But for those who are experiencing abuse, understanding the early recognition of abusive dynamics can be lifesaving.

Emily Nickson Williams is the co-founder of We Are Amity CIC www.weareamity.co.uk

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