When people ask me what I do for a living, I usually pause before answering: “Behaviour Change Worker in domestic abuse.” It’s often a conversation stopper. I am proud of my role, but it’s not something others necessarily understand or see the value of straight away.
But everyday matters. To the people I meet, the families I work with, and the communities we’re trying to make safer.
First thing: planning
Most days begin with planning. I check emails and referrals, then make a list. The list is crucial – without it, I’d remember nothing, ha!
Before I meet a service user I review case notes, risk assessments, and the next steps. I think about where they are in their journey, the challenges they’re facing, and how ready (or not) they might be to face some hard truths – and what I can do to support them.
The kettle goes on, and I remind myself: change isn’t linear. Today could be a breakthrough. It could also be a step back. My job is to hold the space for both and support people wherever they’re at.
Midday: face-to-face work
This is the heart of the job – and the reason I do it. Meeting service users who have used harmful and abusive behaviours in their relationships is never easy.
Some arrive defensive:
“It wasn’t that bad.”
“They provoked me.”
“I’m not like those other people.”
Others arrive burdened by guilt, ready to change but unsure how.
My role is to challenge harmful beliefs while holding people accountable – without shaming them into silence. It’s a fine balance: too soft, and the behaviour goes unchallenged; too harsh, and the door to change slams shut.
We talk about respect. About control. About choice. We unpick patterns. We explore healthier ways of handling conflict.
Sometimes, we sit with silence – because facing your own behaviour takes a kind of courage most people underestimate. I admire this in our service users: the courage to come back week after week, knowing the journey to behaviour change is never easy.
Afternoon: reflection and teamwork
After sessions, there’s time to reflect. Some days I feel encouraged. Some days are harder. Always, I check in with colleagues. This work can’t be done in isolation. We consider risk together – to partners, children, and the service user themselves – and discuss any changes that need addressing.
We share strategies, frustrations, and the small wins that keep us going. Like when someone admits, “Yeah, I did that. And it wasn’t okay. I want to change that.” That moment of ownership is golden. It’s the seed of change.
As the day winds down, I think about the bigger picture. Behaviour change work isn’t just about the people in the room with me. It’s about their partners, their children, their future relationships. I hear people’s life stories – the good times, and the behaviour they’re not so proud of.
Why it matters – and why I love my job
It isn’t glamorous or easy. Some days are heavy. Some are hopeful. But it matters. Every conversation, every breakthrough, every challenge has the potential to grow into safety and change tomorrow.
If someone learns to take responsibility and build healthier patterns, cycles of harm can be broken. Families can function again. Children can grow up in safer homes.
That’s what keeps me showing up. And that’s worth showing up for – every single day. If the people I work with can keep showing up to change harmful behaviour and create safety, then I’ll always show up for them and champion their attempts at change.