My child would use anything as a weapon’: the parents who live in fear of their offspring
- Parents and parenting
- May 29
- 5 min read
Updated: Jun 10
Erin had knives thrown at her, Dolly was kicked, Tim was punched … and all of this violence came from their own children. Why does the outside world ignore such attacks – or even blame the victims?
Erin knows her three children haven’t had an easy time. When they were growing up, her partner was abusive towards her and the children witnessed violence and coercion at home before she found the strength to end the relationship. A few years later, her child Jay – then in their early teens – disclosed that a trusted adult had sexually abused them.
Erin, a successful businesswoman, has always believed Jay. She reported the abuse to police and severed ties with the alleged perpetrator. But Jay’s behaviour began to change. They threw knives at Erin. They set fires in the house. “They would use anything as a weapon to cause injury and harm,” Erin says. Often, Erin was forced to barricade herself inside her bedroom when Jay tried to attack her, while the other children fled the house. In many ways, she felt as if she was living with her abusive ex again.
When Erin was with her ex, she knew there was help available for victims of domestic abuse. But when she sought support for Jay’s behaviour, she felt as if she was hitting a brick wall. A mental health assessment concluded that Jay was not struggling with any psychological conditions. Social workers focused on how Erin could improve her parenting and downplayed the severity of Jay’s behaviour. Eventually, afraid that Jay would kill her, or one of her other children, Erin begged her local authority to take Jay into care. It wasn’t until Jay made a credible attempt to kill one of their siblings that she succeeded.
Erin didn’t know it at the time, but Jay’s behaviour towards her had a name – or rather, lots of names. Among other terms, it is called filial violence, child-to-parent abuse or child-against-parent aggression. There is no legal definition but the national domestic abuse charity Respect uses the acronym Capva (Child and Adolescent to Parent Violence and Abuse) as a term to describe a person aged between eight and 18 who engages in “harmful and repeated” abusive behaviour. This might include physical violence, sexual and economic abuse or “emotional, coercive or controlling behaviour”.
Over the last two decades, interest in Capva has risen steadily among academics, social workers and practitioners in sectors including domestic abuse, adoption and mental health services. The pandemic saw a surge in reported cases and today, specialist services working to address child-to-parent abuse report that they cannot keep up with demand. A storyline about this issue even featured in EastEnders last year, as Kat Slater struggled to cope with the increasingly violent behaviour of her teenage son Tommy. A new report by Femicide Census on more than 170 UK mothers killed by their sons (of all ages) in the past 15 years observed that mothers were sometimes considered a “safe space” for children to mete out violence.
Parents will reach out to their family and friends and get a response that’s quite shaming
But this gradual growth in awareness has yet to translate into families getting the support they need. In a recent landmark survey by Respect, British parents shared their experiences of Capva. The survey report paints a picture of desperate parents punched in the face so they need stitches; attacked with knives and other weapons; suffering heart attacks due to the stress of their situations. It also highlights the silence, stigma and lack of understanding that surround child-to-parent abuse. More than half of parents experiencing Capva told Respect they had not sought support at all; of these, 68% said this was because they were ashamed or worried about the stigma or judgment from professionals.
“Shame and blame are really prevalent issues for Capva, and I think they are part of the reason this issue can stay hidden for so long,” says Justine Dodds, head of young people’s services at Respect. “Parents will maybe reach out to family and friends at first and get a response that’s quite shaming. Unfortunately, sometimes professionals in services working with children have very similar responses.”
Dodds says she often hears of parents who are told they simply need to “get a grip of their kids and take charge” – by friends, family or frontline practitioners such as social workers, police officers and teachers. “All of this is because of a lack of awareness,” she says. “If you haven’t seen Capva in action, it can be hard to conceptualise that somebody might be really frightened of their children.”
Michelle John is the founder of Pegs (Parental Education Growth Support), a social enterprise launched in 2020 to support parents and caregivers affected by child-to-parent abuse. She compares the disbelief and victim-blaming to the way domestic abuse was widely talked about in the 1960s or 70s. “There are those really damaging attitudes: ‘Just tell him no.’ ‘You must be doing something wrong.’ ‘Put up and shut up’,” she says. Between 2023 and 2024, Pegs saw a 70% increase in referrals. John met a solicitor recently and mentioned what her organisation does. “They laughed and said: ‘That doesn’t happen.’”
Helen Bonnick first met a mother who was scared of her child in the 1980s, when she was a social worker in London. Recently awarded an MBE for her work to raise awareness of child-to-parent abuse, Bonnick remembers how the idea that parents should be held responsible for curbing their children’s harmful behaviour dominated public discourse in the 1990s, as Tony Blair’s Labour government began to send people on mandatory parenting courses via antisocial behaviour orders. Bonnick was sure the fearful parents she met through her work in social services, and then in education, were facing problems beyond “normal teenage stuff”. But, she says, the prevailing political narrative was that if your child was being violent or aggressive, “you, as a parent, needed to pull your socks up”.
In 2025, some cultural narratives around raising children may look very different – this is an era of gentler parenting, after all. But judgment and shame still underscore conversations about raising families, and modern parents who can’t stop their child from hurting them report receiving similar messages about how they are failing.
“You do worry that you sound like a really weak parent,” says Tim. He lives with his partner Charlie and their 12-year-old son Silas. When Silas was younger, some teachers dismissed him as naughty and he was often punished. Later in childhood, he was diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder and attention deficit hyperactivity disorder. Today, he regularly blocks doorways, punches Tim in the stomach and jabs him in the chest. Insults, swearing and name-calling are a daily occurrence.
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