Don’t bite your tongue: The role of identifying coercive control

There is something innately momentous in the moment a therapist helps a client make sense of what is happening to them. That “aha” moment - when the penny drops, and scattered pieces of the puzzle suddenly fall into place. When all the doubts are answered in an instant, and confusion gives way to clarity.

Nowhere is this more evident than in working with clients who have been victims of coercive control but who do not know it.

Understanding the impact of coercive control

I have witnessed this many times with clients who have endured years of coercive and controlling behaviour, which is described by the late Professor Evan Stark as “a form of abuse that systematically dominates and restricts a person’s freedom, often through manipulation rather than physical violence” (Stark, 2007).

Coercive control is a specific criminal offence under UK law (Serious Crime Act 2015) and is recognised as the underlying dynamic in intimate or family relationships where one person exerts sustained power and control over another.

This kind of abuse is pernicious, consuming a person’s life for months, years, even decades.

Victims often carry entrenched guilt and self-blame – believing the abuse is their fault, that they brought it on themselves, or that they deserve it. That’s how they have been conditioned to think. They find themselves trapped in webs of lies, confusion, and self-doubt - entangled in a reality that they did not create, yet were led to believe in. As their reality becomes intertwined with the abuser’s version of truth, dependency deepens, shame festers, and confusion governs.

Coercive and controlling individuals may isolate victims from friends and family, monitor their movements, restrict finances, or limit career opportunities. They may also engage in vexatious complaints, smear campaigns, or deliberate attempts to undermine the victim’s mental health, further destabilising confidence and credibility.

Emotional manipulation, including gaslighting, guilt-tripping, and persistent criticism, undermines self-esteem and reinforces dependency and confusion. Everyday choices, from clothing to medical care, can be dictated, with threats or intimidation maintaining dominance.

While each act individually may appear isolated, collectively they form a deliberate, systemic pattern designed to erode autonomy and control the victim’s life. At times, coercive control masquerades as care, concern, or affection - making the abuse especially insidious.

Context, context, context

Too often, abuse is viewed in fragments - physical, sexual, and emotional acts seen as separate events. Yet these behaviours are frequently interconnected, forming part of an ongoing system of control. This is the insidious power of coercive control. 

This behaviour is not by default; it’s by design.

When coercive control is the foundation of abuse, focusing on single incidents is like talking about a single lightning bolt without acknowledging that it forms part of a thunderstorm. 

Believing and naming

In my practice, I invite clients to consider questioning and perhaps challenging what they have been led to believe. The refusal to grant a divorce, for example, may not be apathy but a deliberate attempt to maintain power and restrict freedom.

I lean into psychoeducation, explaining that coercive and controlling behaviour is not always physical; it can exist entirely without proximity. 

Our duty as therapists

There is a reason why Lundy Bancroft’s Why Does He Do That? resonates so deeply – everyone wants to understand why.

In my research on how therapists work with victims of stalking, I found that once therapists named what was happening, clients could finally make sense of their experiences – and almost immediately began taking steps toward safety. Waiting for clients to identify coercive control themselves is often unrealistic; the abuse itself obscures that awareness and the penny may never drop.

As therapists, we cannot hold back from naming what we see. To stay silent is to collude with the confusion that keeps clients trapped. Identifying coercive control is not only an act of professional integrity – it is an act of care, validation, and safety. To do otherwise is a disservice, both to our clients and to our profession.

More training, more visibility

Too often, trainees, therapists, and supervisors encounter clients displaying all the signs of coercive control – yet hesitate to make the link because they have not received formal training in this area and are uncertain how to respond within their therapeutic style. When a safe therapeutic relationship has been established, trust enables these conversations; sometimes, the very act of identifying and explaining what is happening can itself help build trust.

Unlike physical violence, coercive control is difficult to evidence, as it hides in patterns, tone, omissions, and the gradual erosion of autonomy over time. Without the language and frameworks to recognise it, therapists may focus on symptoms rather than the system that created them.

Understanding legal definitions is important, but clinical recognition is essential – knowing how these dynamics play out in the room and how they shape a client’s worldview.

Visibility matters just as much as education. The more we talk about coercive control, the more we can normalise recognising it. Articles, workshops, and supervision discussions all contribute to dismantling the silence upon which this form of abuse relies. When therapists are confident in identifying and naming coercive control, clients feel seen, believed, and supported – sometimes for the first time.

Ultimately, increasing awareness is not just professional competence; it’s a safeguard for those who have already been silenced. Greater training leads to increased recognition, which in turn enables safety. And that safety begins when we stop biting our tongues.