unseen echoes
domestic abuse
Challenging Our Perception
The Unseen Echoes project challenges how we perceive domestic abuse. Too often, our understanding is shaped by what we can physically see—bruises, broken bones, and visible scars. But the reality is far more complex. Many survivors bear no external wounds, yet they live with the deep and lasting impact of psychological, emotional, financial, and coercive control.
The numbers tell a sobering story. In the UK alone, 1.7 million women and 699,000 men experienced domestic abuse in the past year. While public awareness has grown, much of the abuse remains hidden. 95% of survivors report experiencing coercive control—manipulation tactics designed to dominate and isolate them, from restricting access to money to controlling social interactions. Unlike physical violence, coercive control is often difficult to prove, making it harder for victims to seek justice.
Despite its prevalence, domestic abuse remains one of the most underreported crimes. Only 1 in 5 victims ever report their abuse to the police. Many fear repercussions, feel trapped financially, or worry they won’t be believed. For those experiencing psychological or economic abuse, the barriers to seeking help can be even greater, as these forms of abuse are less understood and harder to recognise.
Unseen Echoes forces us to look beyond the surface. Through powerful photography and personal testimonies, the project reveals the hidden realities of abuse and its long-term effects. It urges us to move past outdated stereotypes and recognise that abuse does not always leave visible wounds—but it leaves lasting emotional and psychological scars.
This project is not just about showcasing survivors’ experiences. It’s about shifting perspectives, challenging misconceptions, and encouraging society to truly listen. If we fail to acknowledge the invisible impact of abuse, we risk leaving survivors without the recognition, support, and justice they deserve.
Unseen Echoes is a collaborative photography and storytelling project designed to shed light on the unseen realities of domestic abuse. It brings together survivors, charities, and organisations to share untold stories and challenge the way abuse is perceived.
At its core, the project gives a voice to those who have been silenced. Each participant’s story is captured through both powerful imagery and deeply personal testimonies, allowing audiences to connect with the emotional reality of abuse. By presenting a diverse range of experiences, Unseen Echoes highlights the many forms abuse can take—whether it’s psychological manipulation, financial control, emotional degradation, or the long-term trauma that lingers even after an abusive relationship has ended.
The project’s exhibition format ensures that these stories reach as many people as possible. Whether displayed in galleries, community spaces, or online platforms, the images and narratives serve as a powerful reminder that domestic abuse is not always visible, but it is always impactful. By removing the barriers of statistics and legal definitions, Unseen Echoes brings the reality of abuse into sharp focus, making it impossible to ignore.
More than just a display of personal experiences, Unseen Echoes is a call to action. It encourages conversation, fosters empathy, and provides a platform for survivors to reclaim their stories. It also serves as an educational tool for organisations, policymakers, and the wider public, reinforcing the need for better awareness, support systems, and prevention strategies.
Ultimately, Unseen Echoes is about transformation—of perspectives, of policies, and of lives. It reminds us that the echoes of abuse do not fade when the violence stops. They linger in memories, in fears, in relationships, and in the way survivors navigate the world. By acknowledging these echoes, we take a step towards breaking the silence, challenging stigma, and building a future where no form of abuse goes unseen.
about the project
I was at work one day when she sent me a photo of a clown. It was not to be funny, but she said it looked like me.
She was always saying bad things about how I dressed. I couldn’t forget it. I kept thinking, maybe other people think the same. It made me feel bad, like I was not good enough.
That photo album meant everything to me. He cut me off from everyone, even my own kids. And that album, it was my only escape, my link to happier times. But now, even that feels tainted, like I’m losing everything that mattered to me.
It’s not fair. It’s just not fair.
He hid my tablets, so I had to ask for them. Sometimes, I even had to beg. He knew how important they were for me.
Without them, I’d be in pain. It was like he had control over me. It made me feel powerless.
He always threaten to tell immigration about me and send me back, even though I here legally. Just the idea of being reported would mess up my job and seeing my kids. He know this, but he don’t care. He just want to hurt me, to make me feel scared and powerless.
It feel like he got all the power, and I can’t do nothing.
He was a control freak. He made schedules for everything, even when I could eat or sleep. I was too scared to do anything differently.
I didn’t have the freedom to choose for myself.
She always appeared wherever I went, and I couldn’t figure out how. Later, I found out she’d put tracking software on my phone.
I felt trapped, like I couldn’t escape no matter where I went. It was like she was watching me all the time.
He didn’t even bother to ask. He just went ahead and sold our home, uprooting us from everything I knew. We left behind my friends and family, the people I relied on for support and love. It hurt so much.
He called it our “new life,” but it felt like he was tearing me away from everything that mattered. It left me feeling lost and alone, I had nobody else but him.
He went away one weekend and he didn’t want me going out. So he took all my clothes. He took everything. He even emptied my underwear drawer.
I was left naked in the flat. I couldn’t even answer the door.
I had this book where I wrote down everything she did, like my own secret diary. But she found it, and she burned it all. All my words, all my proof, gone.
I felt so small, like I couldn’t do anything to stop her or prove what she did.
He knew when I got paid on Fridays. The money would go straight into my bank account, but he’d make me go to the cashpoint to withdraw it.
I worked my butt off all week for that cash, but I never got to keep any of it. It felt like all my hard work was for nothing, like he was just using me so he could go to the pub.
I would run and sit by the river. One day, I’ll be free, one way or another. Somewhere where nobody can hurt me.
Life is just too hard here. I don’t want to be here anymore.
I don’t want to be anywhere anymore.
At first, it was just a bit of harmless fun, just a game we played.
But he started leaving for longer periods. He would go to the pub. I was scared. I dreaded his return and what he might do. I didn’t know what state he would be in.
Sometimes he would bring other men home. To use me for fun or to pay off his debts. I would lay there. I couldn’t run away.
I wanted it to stop. I wanted to die.
He always come with me to shops, never help, just follow me. He make sure I don’t stop to talk to anyone.
After shop, he watch me struggle with bags, tell me hurry up for TV.
It feel like I can’t do anything without him watching.
I called it my escape fund, tucked away at the back of my wardrobe, hidden behind my clothes. He never bothered to look there.
Any spare change I had went straight into my secret stash.
One day, I’d save up enough to break free, to find my own place away from him.
He would just sit there, glued to the TV screen. I tried to kiss him, but he didn’t even react. It was like I didn’t exist to him.
He made me feel invisible, unimportant, and unwanted.