Living with deafness in a hearing world presents a unique set of challenges—often invisible to others but keenly felt by those who experience them. A decade ago, I lost my hearing due to a devastating illness. Though I speak fluently and with clarity, many people do not realize that I am deaf. This often leads to misunderstandings, especially in my professional life, where assumptions about my behaviour and demeanour can be frustratingly off the mark.

I work as a software developer, and my office is located in a quiet, shared complex within a mall. It’s not the bustling, crowded kind of environment that one might imagine. It’s a relatively peaceful setting, where interactions are limited to brief encounters with familiar faces from other offices. My work doesn’t require me to interact with clients on a daily basis, so I spend most of my time focused within the confines of my office, immersed in coding and technical problem-solving.

The interactions I do have usually occur during moments outside of work—when I leave my office to use the bathroom, to pray at the masjid, or when I’m heading home. These are fleeting moments, and the people I encounter are often the same individuals who occupy the nearby offices. However, it is during these brief exchanges that misunderstandings usually arise. People may greet me, ask a question, or initiate small talk—unaware that I cannot hear them. When I don’t respond, some individuals assume that I am deliberately ignoring them or, worse, being unapproachable or unfriendly.

The reality is, I don’t hear them speaking to me. It’s not a matter of disinterest or arrogance—I simply missed the communication entirely. Yet because I speak fluently and don’t rely on sign language, there are no visible cues to suggest that I am deaf. My speech gives the impression that I can hear like everyone else, which makes my silence seem intentional to those unaware of my condition. When I don’t respond, I sometimes notice subtle shifts—an awkward pause, a puzzled expression, or a furrowed brow. As a result, rather than addressing the situation directly, some choose to report their experiences to my boss or colleagues, attributing my silence to a negative attitude or unprofessional behaviour. What begins as a simple miscommunication quickly transforms into an unfair judgment—all because my deafness is invisible, and the opportunity to ask was replaced by the impulse to assume.

This misinterpretation is deeply frustrating, and at times, disheartening. Imagine being judged not for something you did, but for something entirely beyond your control—your inability to hear someone speaking to you. These situations leave me in the position of having to clarify and explain after the fact that I’m not being rude, dismissive, or difficult. I am simply deaf. It’s an exhausting cycle of misunderstanding that I must navigate, especially in a workplace setting where perceptions of professionalism and approachability matter.

What I wish people would understand is that my hearing loss doesn’t define my willingness to connect or my ability to engage in conversation—it simply changes the way I do so. I would much rather someone ask me directly, “Did you hear me?” than make assumptions about my character or behaviour based on a momentary lapse in communication. A simple question can prevent the frustration that both sides feel, and it opens the door to understanding rather than misjudgment.

I’ve learned to be patient with these situations, even though they can be tiring. I don’t expect everyone to immediately know that I’m deaf, and I understand that my speech fluency can be misleading. However, what I do hope for is a greater level of empathy and a willingness to communicate. Jumping to conclusions about someone’s attitude or character based on a single, unexplained encounter is something we are all guilty of at times. Yet, I hope my experience sheds light on why those quick judgments can be so unfair.

Living with deafness has taught me the importance of patience and resilience, but it has also made me acutely aware of how easily we can misunderstand one another. In those moments when I am reported or talked about because someone thought I was being unresponsive or difficult, I remind myself that they simply didn’t know. But I also hope that we can all learn to pause before making judgments, especially when it comes to something as personal and invisible as hearing loss.

If you ever find yourself in a situation where someone doesn’t respond to your greeting or question, I encourage you to pause and consider that they might not have heard you. They might be living with a condition like mine, one that isn’t immediately visible but impacts daily interactions. Rather than assume the worst, take a moment to ask.

Ultimately, the lesson I hope to convey is this: don’t assume. Don’t assume that silence is rudeness, or that a lack of response is a lack of respect. There may be more to the story—much like in my case, where a lifetime of navigating deafness means that I rely on understanding and communication from others to bridge the gap between us.

Next time you meet someone like me, someone who doesn’t respond when you speak, don’t leap to conclusions. They may not be ignoring you; they may simply be trying to navigate a world that doesn’t always accommodate their reality. And trust me, like me, they will appreciate it more than you know when you choose to ask rather than assume.

#Deafness The partial or total inability to hear. #Misunderstanding A failure to understand something correctly. #Communication The exchange of information between people. #Empathy The ability to understand and share the feelings of others. #Inclusion The practice of ensuring equal access and opportunities for all. #Awareness Knowledge or perception of a situation or fact. #Assumptions Things accepted as true without proof. #Resilience The ability to recover quickly from challenges. #Patience The ability to accept delays or difficulties calmly. #Judgment The ability to make considered decisions or form opinions.