'Coming out' as hard of hearing - and the play that made me feel included

Journalist Emily Jupp was worried about sharing her hearing loss. But watching Last Rites, and meeting its creators, helped her feel part of a new community

Ramesh Meyyappan in Last Rites. Photo: Mihaela Bodlovic

By Emily Jupp

I need to tell you something. It’s not easy to say, so I’ll start with a story. Ease you into it. Ease me into it. This is a coming out, of sorts.

It all came to a head when I was at brunch with three friends. We meet up every few months to drink coffee and bitch about how journalism is a dying industry – but we love it so we keep on keeping on. These meet-ups are fun, I always enjoy them. But this time, it was different. We were in a particularly shiny restaurant. Lots of glass and aluminium; the noise of the other diners’ conversations ricocheted and amplified. It sounded more like the crowd at the Pyramid Stage at Glasto than 11am on a quiet street in Bermondsey.

I had no idea what my friends were saying. I scrutinised their mouths, attempting to lip-read. ‘I’ll catch their drift,’ I thought, ‘I’ll be able to piece it together.’ They continued chatting, unhindered. They seemed to be able to hear each other perfectly – why couldn’t I? I waited to seize on a phrase that would help me piece together what the conversation was about, but I couldn’t catch it. One of the friends looked at me, expecting a response. I smiled and nodded. Then they continued, talking animatedly – and the noise of the restaurant continued to drown them out. I didn’t hear any of it. I didn’t manage to rejoin. I sat there, lost, for the rest of the meal.

Emily Jupp. Photo: Rob Greig

I know that I’ve been a little bit hard of hearing for a while. I spent a solid three years reviewing music gigs in my twenties, which took its toll (theatre reviewing does less damage to your health, but maybe more to your psyche – thoughts? Comments below!) Then in the lockdowns, I realised I couldn’t ‘hear’ people when they wore face masks... that was a hint. Looking back, I’ve probably had less than perfect hearing for a decade and it’s got worse in the last four or five years. In the last couple of years, I found myself asking people to face me when they talk and repeat themselves several times. My mother has hearing aids, and I remember the signs.

But it was the brunch that made me cave and finally go for a hearing test. The result was that, yes, my hearing has deteriorated. So I now have hearing aids. They make things better. I don’t wear them all the time – just when I know there will be a crowd.

I am officially Hard of Hearing. Not deaf yet, just on the cusp. My hearing will deteriorate over time and it’s made me curious about exploring sign language and dipping my toes into a new community. I feel awkward about that though. I don’t tick that box, on the forms for grants and jobs and things because I’m not d/Deaf... but does that mean I shouldn’t be part of the Deaf community? When do you cross that line and get your membership card to that gang? I feel a bit fraudulent to claim it... but a change has happened, and I’d like to be part of a group that gets it.

Now I’ve ‘come out’ to a few friends and colleagues, I’ve been surprised at how many think it’s a really big deal to wear a piece of plastic around your ear – even those that wear plastic around their eyes. Glasses, it seems, are more normalised, but they are also just a device to make life easier, like my hearing aids.