Spoken Word on Domestic Abuse: Still Rising and the Power Behind 1 in 4
Introduction: Giving Voice to the Silent Stories
There’s something sacred in rising, even when the world expects you to stay hidden.
As a survivor and artist, I’ve come to understand that every woman who survives domestic abuse carries stories that often remain unheard. Wounds, both visible and invisible, don’t just vanish. They live in the body. In the breath. In the brushstroke and the pen.
Recently, I had the honour of performing “I’m Gonna Help My Sister Rise” at the Fight Forward: Fight Back event at the legandery All Stars Boxing Gym. This wasn’t just a poem, it was a spoken word offering on domestic abuse, sisterhood, and the strength that simmers beneath silence.
This post is for the women who are still rising, for those navigating the journey from surviving to thriving, often with no roadmap but their own intuition. I see you. I was you. And I stand beside you.
The Reality: One in Four and the Faces Behind the Numbers
1 in 4 women in the UK will experience domestic abuse in their lifetime. But that number? It’s not just data. It’s a name. A face. A story.
- Domestic abuse doesn’t discriminate—it affects teachers, grandmothers, lawyers, carers, baristas, and entrepreneurs.
- It hides behind lipstick, laughter, and leadership.
- And the fastest-growing group affected? Young women aged 16–25.
It’s my story. It might be yours. And increasingly, it could be our daughters’.
And as I've said before and as I keep saying: please don't debate the margins. Whether it’s one in four or one in three, the truth remains, too many women are hurting, often in silence. Yet still, some choose to quibble over percentages as if pain must reach a precise threshold before it’s believed, before it's worthy of action.
Don’t let the numbers become a loophole for inaction.
Because every statistic is a person. A sister. A friend. A woman navigating trauma behind closed doors, showing up high-functioning, head held high, but often barely holding on.
Too often, the margins are debated not to deepen understanding, but to justify not paying attention, not bearing witness, not taking responsibility to protect, defend, or uplift.
When we argue over data instead of listening to the stories beneath it, we silence those already struggling to be heard.
This is not a numbers game. This is about humanity. And if you’re waiting for the data to be tidy and unanimous before you care, you’ve already missed the point.
Let’s not get distracted by the decimal. Let’s get devoted to the woman behind it.
We owe it to them, and to ourselves, to tell the truth and hold space for healing.
Why I Perform: The Healing Power of Spoken Word on Domestic Abuse
Poetry gave me back my voice when I felt silenced.
Spoken word is my way of honouring the pain, the survival, and the possibility of transformation. At Fight Forward, I stood in the ring not to fight, but to speak, to be seen, and to remind every woman in the room that her story matters.
Some lines from my poem still echo my surviving to thriving journey.
“High functioning and domestically abused… A perspective rarely seen on the news.”
“You be looking oh so fly wherever you go. But underneath it all is a story that needs to be told.”
“I’m going to see my sister fly, because I’m going to help my sister rise.”
This piece wasn’t just for me. It was for the women who came before. The women rising now. And the ones still finding the courage to leave.
I unabashedly recited words that echoed in the hearts of the audience, because these spoken word lines urge us to recognise the masked pain and support every woman’s journey from darkness into light.
Risen, the Art Before the Poem: A Creative Call to Rise
Before the poem “I’m Gonna Help My Sister Rise” was ever performed, there was a painting, a becoming.
Amja with her art work "Risen".
My artwork, Risen, came first. It was born during a tender, transformational chapter while seated in the audience and the Woman and Girls Network's "Thinking Under Fire" conference, long before I shared the words aloud on stage. Risen held the power of hope, and the ancestral whisper that said: you are not done yet.
It was through creating Risen that I began to embody the four pillars of my Self-Soothing Creative Steps (SSCS) Framework:
- Support, from community and unseen hands guiding me back to centre.
- Self-Love, cultivated in every brushstroke of reclamation.
- Spirituality, felt in the quiet sacred space where the paint met the pain.
- Security, not just physical but internal, a new sense of safety in self.
When the poem came later, it wasn’t separate, it was an echo. A voice rising up from the canvas, reminding me and every woman listening: you are allowed to rise, again and again.
Sisterhood, Survival & Ancestral Wisdom
One of Amraashly’s enduring themes is the deep bond shared by women—regardless of background or appearance. She urges survivors and supporters alike to put out their hands and lift each other, honoring both the living and ancestral women who paved our paths.
At the heart of my work is a deep belief in creative sisterhood, a web of support that stretches across generations.
I believe in the power of ancestral intuition, that quiet inner voice that tells us when something isn’t right. I believe that healing isn’t linear, but it is possible. So embrace your unique story and share when you are ready. And I believe that when we reach out to help another woman rise, we rise with her.
And remember, your pain is valid, your voice is revolutionary. and your art is sacred.
How to Support Yourself (and Others) on the Journey from Surviving to Thriving
Whether you're a survivor or a sister standing in solidarity, here are some truths I’ve learned:
- Give yourself permission to create—Art, writing, dance, or any creative act can be a powerful tool for transformation.
- Trust your inner voice—If intuition says something is wrong, believe it and seek support.
- Offer compassion, not judgment—When you meet women who seem 'high functioning,' remember there could be battles beneath the surface.
- Be courageously creative—Whatever your craft, let it be a path to expressing and healing your story.
Changing the Narrative: From Surviving to Thriving
This is more than a performance. This is a creative resistance to erasure, minimisation, and silence.
This is why we speak. This is why we march. This is why we listen to stories and by sharing our stories through spoken word on domestic abuse, we rewrite the narrative.
We shift the shame.
We honour our becoming and for the generations yet to come.
Final Words: You Are the Rise
You are your ancestors’ wildest dreams, the beauty, courage, and resilience they imagined. Take heart: high functioning and no longer abused, every survivor’s journey deserves to be told and celebrated. Let your voice become art, let your art become freedom, and let sisterhood be the wings that help you soar.
To every woman reading this, know this:
You are your ancestors’ answered prayer.
Your voice is your art, your truth and your freedom. They matter. They deserve to be shared with the world. So...
Rise.
Create.
Support a sister.
And when in doubt, remember: “I’m gonna help my sister rise.”
Because in doing so, we rise too.
Call to Action
If you or someone you know is navigating the impact of domestic abuse, please reach out to a trusted local organisation.
You are not alone.
You are not to blame.
And your story is not over.
Let’s Keep the Conversation Going
If this piece moved you, please share it with someone who needs to feel seen, heard, or held.
Let’s keep the conversation alive, because thriving is possible, and sisterhood is real.
I’d love to hear your reflections.
Have you ever found healing through visual art or spoke words?
What does “rising” mean to you today?
Drop a comment below, share your voice, or tag a sister who’s rising too.
Together, we rewrite the narrative, one story, one poem, one act of courage at a time.
Love and Light, Infinitely, Amja