What I Wish I Knew About Living with Hearing Loss

When I first lost my hearing, I had no idea what was ahead. I’d always had perfect hearing and had never even had an ear infection. As a teacher, I’d prided myself on being able to hear the tiniest voices and cheeky noises from the four-year-olds in my classroom. I had never once considered life without full sound. Why would I, when my ears had never given me cause to doubt them?

My hearing loss wasn't a gradual loss I could prepare for. There was no time to adjust. Suddenly, I was living in a world of half-hearing, trying to figure out how I would navigate life, the things I love, and the emotional impact of losing a sense in a moment.

ENT doctors gave me the facts. Audiologists handed me results. But no one told me how to live with hearing loss. How it would affect relationships, my work, my confidence, or even something as everyday as ordering a coffee.

If you’re newly facing hearing loss and looking for hearing loss support, here are a few things I wish someone had told me early on.

1. You Don’t Have to “Just Get on with It”

I know what it's like to smile and nod while feeling completely lost in a conversation. To tell people you’re “fine” because you don’t know what else to say. You may feel like you need to adjust quickly and carry on as normal, but hearing loss can affect more than your ears. It can affect how you see yourself, your confidence, how you communicate, and how you connect with the world.

At the time of my hearing loss, the medical care ended quickly, but the emotional and practical questions did not: “How do I explain this to my family?” “What do I say at work?” “Can I still do the things I love?” I needed to take time to figure things out.

There’s no set timeline for adjusting to hearing loss; you're allowed to take your time. Maybe you’ll return to a version of normal, or maybe you’ll adapt to something new that fits even better. This could be a moment to reflect, reset, and consider what you really want your life to look like moving forward. Most importantly, give yourself the time and grace to choose your next step when you're ready and in your own way.

2. It’s Okay to Grieve

Carly and her partner at a Christmas market. Both are smiling, and Carly is holding a paper cup of hot chocolate.

This photo shows my partner and me in early January 2017 in London, enjoying the last few hours of a Christmas market we stumbled upon. We're both smiling, but I can see the exhaustion in our eyes.

The day before, we’d flown from Spain to London, four months after my sudden hearing loss, to see a private ENT specialist on Harley Street for a second opinion. I’d used every last penny of my savings to speak to one of the UK’s leading ENT surgeons in my native language, hoping for answers.

I knew deep down there was little chance of recovery, but I needed closure. On the day of the photo, after a battery of tests, I was told: “Unfortunately, at this stage, there is no other active treatment that can help your left hearing threshold, and I would be surprised if there is any recovery at all.”

Outside the clinic, I released a shower of tears on my partner's shoulder, who hugged me tightly. Tears of sadness for my loss. Tears of exhaustion. Tears of relief that it was finally time to begin the grieving process.

Losing part of your hearing can feel like losing a part of you. It’s not just sound. It’s connection, ease, confidence, and your sense of place in the world. Looking back, I realise how important it was for me to accept the reality of my hearing loss. I gave myself time and space to process it all. I allowed myself to be in shock, angry, frustrated, and sad. I took time to reminisce about occasions when my hearing played an integral part in my enjoyment of life, such as summer music festivals, honouring the hearing I had lost. 

I began to adjust to my new reality, and I connected with others living similar experiences. I wrote my feelings in my blog. I learned the best place to sit in a restaurant to hear the conversation, and figured out what I wanted others to know about my hearing loss and how my friends and family could help aid communication with me. I started to re-establish my identity and found a new sense of self and purpose as a hearing health advocate. As I moved towards acceptance of my loss, I began to approach life with more consideration and purpose. 

3. Support Makes a Big Difference

I began writing my blog around three months after my hearing loss. I had been replaying everything over in my head. The time I spent in the hospital following the loss, the changes in my body and mood from the steroid treatments, lying on a hospital bench having steroids injected into my ear, the guilt of being away from my class, struggling to articulate how all this felt. 

Writing came easily. It was a relief. Putting everything down on the page felt cathartic, a way to process all that had happened over the past few months and the emotions that came with it. With every new blog post, a space was cleared in my mind. This was the purpose of my blog in the beginning: a place to empty my mind. But over time, it became so much more than that.

Emails began landing in my inbox from people living similar experiences and their loved ones. We shared our stories. When I started speaking to other people who experienced hearing loss, everything changed. I didn’t have to explain the little things. I didn’t have to pretend. In having open conversations, I learned there were others, just like me, learning to move forward after hearing loss. I found my community.

With time, I began paying back the support I had received. I started to support others by listening with empathy, giving them space to talk honestly, figure things out, and move forward in a way that works for them. Supporting others became my purpose.

4. It’s Not “Just” Hearing

A colleague once said to me, “At least it wasn’t something worse.” In some respects, I agreed and was thankful for this. 

I had never considered what it might be like to live with hearing loss, so how could I expect those without hearing loss to understand? Part of me wished, however, that they did. That they could know how tiring it was to listen all day, and how hard I was trying just to keep up. 

And, it wasn't “just” hearing. I had lost something that enabled me to interact with the world and feel safe in my surroundings. And the emotional toll was huge. The social exhaustion. The hit to my confidence. Communication challenges. It affected how I connected, how I socialised, and how I felt about myself. 

Hearing Loss Support: You Don’t Have to Go Through This Alone

If you're finding it tough, you're not the only one. And more importantly, you don’t have to go through this alone. Hearing loss support can make the difference between just surviving and feeling more in control of your life again. If you’re tired of pretending everything’s fine when it isn’t and want to make a change, maybe it’s time to talk to someone who understands.

I provide 1:1 coaching for people with hearing loss. These sessions create a supportive space to talk things through and work out how to navigate daily life at home, at work, and out in the world. Together, we look at ways to build confidence, advocate for your needs, and feel more in control of everyday life.

To see whether coaching could be a good fit, you can book a free 15-minute discovery call with me. It's a chance to share a bit about yourself, talk through your goals, and explore how we might work together.

Hearing loss can feel like it changes everything. Coaching helps you find your footing again, with clarity, confidence, and the tools to move forward.