Hard To Hear It
Written by April Mitrik
This is a segment of Northern Musings, where we gather essays, journal-style articles, and personal perspectives that don’t fit neatly into any one category but always fit the spirit of the North. All musings are merely the opinions of By The North’s contributors.
The emotional journey of one woman who received a hearing loss diagnosis in her 20’s, and how she used her diagnosis to help others.
April Mitrik received a diagnosis of otosclerosis, a form of hearing loss, when she was just 25 years old. She went from living a life in parallel to her peers to unexpectedly struggling with things happening to her body that she didn’t have control over. She turned inward and isolated while she processed the news but April quickly realized what she needed wasn’t to be alone, she needed a community and support. When April couldn’t find the resources she needed, she built them herself. Now other Canadians with hearing loss have available support and community when they need it.
This is April’s story.
Canadian hearing loss advocate April Mitrik showing off her discreet hearing aids.
The day I received my diagnosis was like any other- and then the audiologist broke the news.
“You have Otosclerosis,” he said, “you will need a hearing aid.”
My first thought was that I was only 25, hearing loss was something older people dealt with, surely, she must be mistaken. Disbelief and denial crashed over me in waves as I tried to accept this newfound reality. I left the clinic in a blur of tears and called my parents. All I could manage to say was, “I need a hearing aid!”
Their response was a lifeline. “It’s okay, we’ll help you get one.”
“Telling people about my hearing loss was one of the hardest parts of the whole process. I didn’t want to feel “different,” and I didn’t want to be seen as “weak” or “broken.”
That was one of those moments in my life where I realized how important support truly is. My family was there, steady as a rock, to remind me I wasn’t alone, and I would be okay. But even though I had their support, I still felt embarrassed, ashamed, and like I was somehow different from everyone around me. The emotional rollercoaster didn’t end with the diagnosis, it was just the beginning.
After sharing the news with my parents, I still had to tell the people closest to me. I remember calling Martin, my now husband, who was just as shocked as I was. We had only been dating for a few months, and I was terrified about how he would react. But instead of disappointment or confusion, he comforted me. His understanding and compassion gave me great comfort that I had someone who would walk with me through this journey. But even with the great support of the loved ones around me, I still felt the heavy weight of embarrassment and shame.
Telling people about my hearing loss was one of the hardest parts of the whole process. I didn’t want to feel “different,” and I didn’t want to be seen as “weak” or “broken.”
Looking back, I realize that the most difficult part of my journey wasn’t the diagnosis itself, but the emotional baggage that came with it. The fear of being judged, the embarrassment of needing a hearing aid, and the sadness of losing something so fundamental to my life—my hearing. These emotions were all part of the grieving process, and at the time, I didn’t know how to deal with them. What I needed, and what I still need, is understanding and empathy. And it’s not just from my family and friends, but from myself too.
In the early days of my diagnosis, the overwhelm clouded my ability to see a clear path forward. But through the shame, the tears, and the frustration, I found strength. And that strength came from embracing my vulnerability, accepting my new reality, and choosing to accept support from those around me.
Today, I’m proud of the person I’ve become, even though I still have tough days. And I hope that by sharing my journey, I can encourage others to embrace their own struggles and find the strength to rise above them.
To Anyone Facing a Similar Journey:
Receiving a hearing loss diagnosis in my twenties was incredibly challenging, and I’ve learned some valuable lessons I’d like to share in hopes it might help someone else.
Don’t be afraid to ask for support. You don’t have to go through it alone.
It’s okay to feel vulnerable. Opening up about your struggles is not a sign of weakness.
Acceptance is a process. It doesn’t happen overnight, but it’s worth the journey.
Be kind to yourself. You don’t have to have everything figured out all at once.
If you are looking for more support for yourself, or a loved one, please check out April’s blog and resources at the links below:
Youtube: Hard To Hear It
Instagram @hardtohearit