The Invisible Assault: How Abuse Alters the Brain and Why Police Must Treat Domestic Violence as Neurobiological Harm

By Rose Byass


Domestic violence is a silent epidemic affecting millions worldwide, cutting across age, class, and culture. While bruises fade and bones mend, the deepest wounds inflicted by intimate partner violence (IPV) are often invisible—etched into the very structure of the brain. Emerging neuroscience research reveals that repeated emotional, psychological, and physical abuse can cause measurable changes in brain morphology and function. These findings challenge long-held perceptions of what constitutes "real" harm and offer compelling reasons for law enforcement to treat domestic violence not merely as a social or psychological issue, but as a form of neurobiological assault. Despite the growing evidence, many domestic violence survivors are dismissed or disbelieved by authorities, particularly when there are no visible injuries. Yet the absence of broken bones does not equate to the absence of damage. Brain scans, particularly magnetic resonance imaging (MRI), show that prolonged exposure to trauma alters the hippocampus, amygdala, and prefrontal cortex—regions responsible for memory, emotional regulation, and decision-making. These structural and functional changes can persist long after the abuse ends, impairing a survivor's ability to function, recall details, or seek help—factors that are frequently misunderstood by police and judicial systems.


Abuse as a Neurological Injury

Neuroscientific studies have consistently demonstrated that chronic exposure to abuse activates the brain’s stress response system, notably the hypothalamic-pituitary-adrenal (HPA) axis. Prolonged cortisol release, the body's primary stress hormone, becomes neurotoxic to key brain regions. Teicher and Samson (2016) found that childhood and adult abuse significantly reduce hippocampal volume, impairing memory encoding and contextual fear processing. Similarly, the amygdala—central to threat detection—becomes hyperactive, leading to heightened vigilance and emotional dysregulation. In parallel, the prefrontal cortex, essential for impulse control and rational decision-making, shows signs of structural thinning and underactivation (Gold et al., 2016).These are not abstract changes—they manifest in behaviour. Survivors may struggle to recall events in a linear fashion, become overwhelmed by minor stressors, or appear emotionally volatile—responses that are frequently misinterpreted by law enforcement as signs of unreliability or instability. In reality, they are neurobiological symptoms of trauma.Functional MRI (fMRI) studies underscore these disruptions. Fonzo et al. (2010) demonstrated that women with IPV-related post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) had exaggerated blood-oxygen-level-dependent (BOLD) responses in the amygdala and insula when exposed to emotional stimuli. In lay terms, their brains lit up as though facing immediate danger, even in safe conditions. These alterations confirm that the abuse doesn’t just harm psychologically—it rewires the brain to live in a state of perpetual fear.


The Hidden Force: Coercive Control as Neurobiological and Social Harm

At the heart of many abusive relationships lies a weapon more insidious than fists: coercive control. Coined by sociologist Evan Stark, coercive control refers to a pattern of domination that includes manipulation, intimidation, isolation, surveillance, gaslighting, and threats—designed to strip a person of autonomy, identity, and agency. Unlike a single act of violence, coercive control is a chronic strategy of psychological imprisonment. What makes coercive control particularly devastating is its impact on the brain. Chronic fear activates the stress response system, flooding the body with cortisol and other neurochemicals that impair memory, emotional regulation, and executive functioning. Survivors frequently describe feeling “frozen,” “foggy,” or unable to make decisions—symptoms that mirror neurological changes in the hippocampus and prefrontal cortex. Over time, these changes can become permanent. Yet coercive control is rarely prosecuted unless accompanied by visible physical violence. Law enforcement often lacks the tools—and the training—to recognise the behavioural signs of neurobiological trauma. This results in cases being dropped, victims being blamed, and abusers going free. Society urgently needs to understand coercive control as not just emotional abuse, but neurological harm. The relentless psychological degradation inherent in coercive control reshapes the victim’s brain. These survivors live in a state of constant hypervigilance. Their sense of self becomes eroded. They may stay with or return to their abuser—not out of choice, but because their decision-making circuitry has been neurologically hijacked by fear.


A Lived Experience: “I Wasn’t Just Hurt—I Was Changed”

I know this reality because I lived it. My ex-boyfriend would scream at me with such venom that my body would shake for hours afterward. He would tell me to “fuck off” in public, in private, whenever he needed to reassert control. He would change plans at the last minute—not casually, but aggressively—then rage at me for not keeping up with his chaos. I walked on eggshells, constantly anticipating his next outburst. He gaslighted me until I no longer trusted my own memory. He threw things at me—objects meant to intimidate, sometimes to injure. Once, he physically threw me from a car. These moments weren’t isolated—they were part of a deliberate system of control. And yet when I reported what I had endured, the police didn’t lay charges. Because I had no black eye, no broken bone, I was not, in their eyes, “a victim. ”But I was. I live with PTSD. My nervous system is always on edge. My personality has changed—I’m more anxious, more withdrawn, less trusting. The person I was before the abuse no longer fully exists. My brain, like many other survivors’, now bears the imprint of trauma. And still, my story is not seen as enough. This is why we need change.


The Role of Police: From Doubt to Duty

Police officers are often the first responders to domestic violence. Their role is critical—not only in ensuring immediate safety, but in collecting evidence and determining whether charges should be laid. Unfortunately, due to lack of trauma-informed training and cultural bias, many survivors like me are dismissed, doubted, or even pathologised. If a survivor is incoherent, numb, or emotionally erratic, officers may view her as unstable or unreliable. But neuroscience tells us these reactions are precisely what trauma looks like in the brain. The amygdala is in overdrive; the prefrontal cortex is under-functioning. The survivor’s story may be fragmented—not because she is lying, but because her memory system is overwhelmed. This gap in understanding turns frontline responders into unintentional enablers of violence. And it reinforces a legal system that often refuses to prosecute “invisible” injury.


A Call for Reform: Neurobiology as Evidence

To align policing and legal practice with neuroscience, we must:

  1. Train police in trauma neurobiology so they can recognise signs of neurological harm as legitimate evidence.
  2. Legally recognise neurobiological injury—including PTSD and cognitive impairment—as valid harm equivalent to physical injury.
  3. Use neuroimaging (e.g., MRI, fMRI, DTI) in forensic contexts to document abuse-related brain changes when appropriate.
  4. Adopt laws criminalising coercive control, acknowledging its profound psychological and neurological toll.
  5. Ensure ethical safeguards, so brain imaging empowers survivors rather than pathologising them.

Conclusion: From Evidence to Justice

Abuse changes the brain. This is not speculation—it is evidence. For many survivors, including myself, the most lasting injuries are those we carry in silence: disordered memories, fractured identities, rewired fear responses. These are not character flaws; they are trauma responses—biological, predictable, and deserving of recognition. The time has come for police, prosecutors, and policymakers to treat domestic violence as more than interpersonal dysfunction. It is a form of assault—neurobiological assault—with lifelong consequences. To honour survivors is to believe them. To protect them is to understand their wounds—even the ones no one can see.