Let’s be honest—hearing loss isn’t something most of us dream about growing up. No one’s walking around saying, “When I grow up, I hope I miss half the punchlines at the dinner table!” But here we are. And you know what? That’s okay.
Because while life doesn’t come with a volume knob, we do get to choose how we respond when things quiet down. Hearing loss isn’t the end of your story—it’s just a different chapter. And with the right mindset, tools, and a bit of rebellious confidence, you can absolutely own it.
Alright, here’s where the good stuff starts…
1. Grieve, but don’t set up camp
Yes, hearing loss is a loss. It’s normal to grieve it. I remember the day I realized that sounds were so much softer from my left ear. It hit me hard. All that small, beautiful sound had quietly slipped away without me noticing. It’s okay to feel sad, angry, or frustrated.
But don’t build a house in that grief and stay there.
Grieve—then start moving forward.
When I got my cochlear implant after 26 years of silence in one ear, it was like switching on life in stereo. That moment wouldn’t have come if I’d stayed stuck in bitterness. Let yourself feel it, but don’t let it define you.
2. Use your words (Loud and Clear)
We aren’t mind readers—and neither is anyone else. If people don’t know about your hearing loss, they won’t know how to help. Tell them. Be clear. Be specific.
Say things like, “Please face me when you speak—I rely on lipreading,” or “Can we turn down the background music so I can hear you better?” I’ve found that most people, when given the chance, want to communicate better—they just need a little guidance (and many patient reminders)
Your voice is one of your most powerful tools. Use it.
3. Live life in full volume
Don’t let hearing loss convince you to shrink your world. You deserve to experience everything life has to offer—even if it takes some extra planning.
I still go to live concerts (with earplugs and the right seat). I travel, I joke with my kids, I binge-watch series with captions on or audio streaming to my ‘ear gear’. Life didn’t end when my hearing changed—I just had to learn new ways to engage with it.
Want to dance? Dance. Want to hike? Hike. Want to learn the ukulele at 50? Do it. You’ve got one life. Don’t press mute on it.
4. Find your people
There’s something powerful about connecting with others who “get it.” People who understand the daily dance of saying “Pardon?” a little too often. People who know the awkward nod-and-smile when you missed something important.
I’ve found incredible support in online groups, cochlear implant forums, and just chatting with other hearing aid users in the waiting room, in the line at the grocery store, anywhere! You don’t have to walk this alone. There’s strength in community—and sometimes a few inside jokes, too.
(Example: Once a fellow CI user and I joked about how the computer chips in our heads make us “cyborg bros.” Instant bond.)
5. Hear your best, however that looks for you
There’s no one-size-fits-all with hearing. Some of us wear hearing aids. Some have cochlear implants. Some use captions, speech-to-text apps, or loop systems. Some do a mix of everything. That’s all valid.
What matters is finding what works for you—and owning it. Learn to use your devices well. Ask your audiologist questions. Explore assistive tech that boosts your confidence. You’re not just adapting; you’re evolving.
Pro tip: I use a smartphone app to adjust my hearing aid/implant settings. It makes tweaking things in noisy cafés a breeze.
6. Treat your hearing loss like it matters (Because it does)
You wouldn’t ignore a broken leg, so don’t ignore your ears. Hearing loss affects communication, relationships, mental health—even safety. Treating it is an investment in your life.
For years, I ignored my worsening hearing. I didn’t want to admit it. But once I got properly fitted devices, my world opened up. I reconnected with music, with my family, with myself. That first step—seeking help—is powerful.
And no, it’s never “too late.”
7. Speak up for yourself (and others, too!)
Advocating for yourself isn’t selfish—it’s necessary. Ask for captions at the movies. Request quiet seating in restaurants. Politely remind people (again and yet again) to look at you when they talk. It’s not being difficult—it’s setting the scene so you can fully participate.
When you speak up, you’re also paving the way for others. You’re showing your kids, your coworkers, and your community that accessibility matters—and it starts with awareness.
(Bonus: You may inspire someone else who’s been too nervous to advocate for themselves.)
8. Make hearing loss normal (Because it is!)
Hearing loss is incredibly common. So let’s stop pretending it’s rare or embarrassing. Normalize it.
I treat my hearing aids and cochlear implant like just another part of me—like glasses, or my watch. I’ll show curious kids my processor and explain how it works, I then show them my party trick where I can make a metal object stick to the magnet on my head. I laugh when subtitles are way off and say, “Well, that’s not what they said!”
The more we talk about hearing loss, the less stigma there is. That helps everyone—especially the next generation growing up with hearing devices.
I will never forget when my nephew came to me one day excitedly saying ‘Uncle Danny, guess what? A kid at my school has a cochlear implant! I went up to him and said ‘Heeeeey! My uncle has one of those too!! Its sooo cooool!”
9. Smash stigma like a Rock Star
Let’s leave behind the dusty old idea that hearing loss = “old” or “less capable.” It doesn’t. It never has and never will!
Some of the sharpest, most creative, most passionate people I know live with hearing loss. Your ears don’t define your worth, your intelligence, or your potential.
So, correct people gently when they get it wrong. Challenge outdated thinking. Be a living example of what thriving with hearing loss really looks like.
(Because spoiler: it looks like YOU.)
10. Expect a few bumps (and laugh through them)
Let’s be real—you’ll mishear things. You’ll get names wrong, miss punchlines, and probably laugh at the wrong moment. I once thought someone said, “pasta sauce” when they actually said, “passport’s lost.” And then there was the time I thought my wife told a group of us that she needed an enema when she was actually just saying she was exhausted. Whole conversation derailed.
You’ll also have frustrating days. But those moments don’t mean you’re failing. They just mean you’re human.
Keep your sense of humor close. Learn from the bumps. And don’t be afraid to laugh—even (especially) at yourself.
Final Thought: Rock That Different Sound Mix
Hearing loss doesn’t make you “less than.” If anything, it makes you more—more adaptable, more intuitive, more empathetic. You’re navigating life with a different sound mix, and that’s something to be proud of.
So go ahead—live boldly, laugh loudly, and wear your hearing devices like the badges of resilience they are.
Own your hearing loss. Live loud. And never, ever let the world turn your volume down. You’re UnDEAFeated!!
Credit to Living With Hearing Loss for the original list that this post was based upon.
Talking Hearing Loss 
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