For men trapped in abusive relationships, the psychological consequences can extend far beyond visible injuries. Suicidal thoughts may emerge as abuse, isolation and hopelessness accumulate. Yet expectations of masculinity can make disclosure harder, leaving vulnerable men without meaningful support.
By Halima Layeni
Intimate partner violence is often discussed through the physical injuries it leaves behind. Bruises, fractures, hospital visits and other visible consequences can make abuse easier to recognise, but some of the most serious consequences are not visible at all.
For men experiencing intimate partner violence, the psychological impact can be profound, yet it can remain hidden behind expectations that men should be strong, resilient and able to cope without help.
When we talk about the consequences of intimate partner violence, the discussion often focuses on physical injuries, emotional abuse, broken relationships and the immediate dangers of living with an abusive partner. But there is another consequence that deserves far greater attention: suicidal thoughts among men experiencing abuse.
A study titled Male Experience of Intimate Partner Violence (IPV), published by the Commissioner for Victims of Crime in November 2024, reported that 71.4% of men in the study had considered suicide.
This figure must be understood within the specific population and methodology of the study and should not be interpreted as representing all men experiencing intimate partner violence.
Nevertheless, it raises an important question about what prolonged abuse can do to men’s psychological wellbeing and whether enough attention is being given to the relationship between male victimisation and suicide.
For men experiencing intimate partner violence, the psychological impact of abuse can accumulate over time. Repeated humiliation, intimidation, threats, physical violence, coercive behaviour, isolation, financial control and fear can gradually undermine a man’s sense of safety and control over his own life.
A man may begin to feel trapped in a relationship that he cannot safely leave, particularly when children, housing, finances or family responsibilities are involved.
When abuse continues and a man sees no clear way out, feelings of hopelessness can become increasingly severe. The issue is therefore not only whether a man has been physically or psychologically harmed by his partner, but what prolonged abuse can do to his ability to see a future beyond the circumstances he is experiencing.
For abused men, this psychological burden can be compounded by expectations surrounding masculinity. Men are often expected to be strong, resilient and capable of protecting themselves and others.
These expectations can make it difficult for men to acknowledge that they are frightened of their partners or struggling to cope. A man experiencing violence may fear that admitting his vulnerability will cause others to question his masculinity. He may expect to be mocked, dismissed or told that a woman could not possibly pose a serious threat to him.
When a man is already experiencing abuse, the inability to speak openly about what is happening can deepen the isolation surrounding him and make it harder to seek help before his distress becomes more severe.
Isolation is particularly important when considering suicidal thoughts among abused men. A man may not identify himself as a domestic violence victim because he does not see men represented in the services, campaigns or public conversations surrounding abuse.
He may not know whether a shelter will accept him, whether a professional will believe him or whether reporting his partner will make his situation worse.
If he has previously disclosed the abuse and been mocked, ignored or treated as though he should simply defend himself, he may become even less willing to seek help when his mental health deteriorates.
The result can be a dangerous combination of ongoing abuse, increasing isolation and worsening psychological distress.
The same abuse that contributes to a man’s distress can also make it more difficult for him to access the support that could interrupt that distress.
Some men continue working, providing for their families and maintaining an outward appearance of normality while privately experiencing severe emotional pain.
Because men are often expected to remain functional regardless of what they are experiencing, those around them may not recognise how much they are struggling.
A man can therefore be deeply distressed without appearing visibly distressed to colleagues, friends or even family members. The absence of an obvious crisis should never be interpreted as evidence that a man is coping well.
When a man is experiencing severe relationship distress, are professionals asking whether he is experiencing abuse? When a man presents with suicidal thoughts, are healthcare and mental health professionals considering whether intimate partner violence may be contributing to his distress?
When a male victim seeks domestic violence support, are services equipped to identify and respond to suicidal risk? And when men disclose abuse, are there safe and realistic pathways available to help them leave dangerous situations before their psychological distress becomes even more severe?
These questions require more than awareness. They require better research, professional training, appropriate referral pathways and support services that men can identify and access. They also require a shift in the way we understand men’s vulnerability.
Telling men to be strong does not make them immune to trauma. Expecting men to endure abuse silently does not reduce its psychological impact.
Assuming that a man can simply defend himself because he is male ignores the psychological, emotional, financial and relational dimensions of intimate partner violence.
A man experiencing suicidal thoughts as a result of abuse should not have to prove that his suffering is serious before he receives support. His masculinity should not be treated as evidence that he is safe.
His ability to continue working should not be mistaken for emotional stability, and the absence of visible injuries should not be interpreted as evidence that the abuse has not profoundly affected him.
The solution must be to build a response that recognises male victims early and connects domestic violence intervention with suicide prevention.
Early recognition matters because intervention should not begin only when a man reaches a suicidal crisis.
Men tend to express distress differently from how services expect to see it. Presentations such as irritability, withdrawal, heavy drinking, risk-taking and unexplained physical complaints are common, and they are frequently read as character flaws instead of as signs of trauma.
A clinician who does not ask about partner abuse will often never learn of it, and a man who is never asked will rarely volunteer.
Male victims of partner abuse face a markedly higher risk of suicidal thinking than non-victimised men, and that risk is shaped by entrapment, isolation, loss of children and the absence of credible support.
Primary care, mental health services and emergency departments should screen men for partner abuse as routinely as they screen women.
Men who disclose intimate partner violence should have access to confidential mental health support, safety planning, legal information and practical pathways to protection.
Services should also collect better sex-disaggregated data so that the experiences and needs of abused men are visible in research, policy and service planning.
Clinicians need training in how male survivors present. Helplines and refuges need funded capacity for men, with staff who treat disclosure as information rather than suspicion.
Police and prosecutors need clear guidance on identifying the primary aggressor from evidence, not from gender. Family courts need to recognise coercive control when a father describes it.
Funders should back longitudinal research that follows male survivors over time, so that policy rests on evidence about what protects them.
A society cannot protect people it refuses to recognise. Male victims of partner abuse are already among us, already carrying a risk that the evidence confirms, and already waiting to learn whether anyone will believe them. The institutions that answer that question will decide how many of them find their way to help.
Halima Layeni: Speaker | Global Voice For Men’s Mental Health & Policy Reform | Author of Dear Man | Executive Director, Life After Abuse Foundation | Mental Health Coach For Professionals | U.S. Consul General Award Recipient