Fiona Murphy was in the first grade when a hearing test confirmed she was profoundly deaf in her left ear.
The discovery explained a lot.
At school, despite her best efforts, she had been struggling to learn simple words, and during noisy swimming lessons at the pool her instructor reported that she was failing to follow basic instructions.
In attempting to make sense of her diagnosis, Fiona says she quickly linked being hard of hearing with being less capable.
"I started to get some really negative thoughts and feelings about deafness being something that I have to beat and overcome and conquer, which set me up to have negative thoughts about it all through my schooling, well into university," she says.
"At that stage there was no technology that could help to make any difference, so I was just encouraged to try my best to figure out how to learn how to read and write."
In grade four, Fiona was given a pair of hearing glasses — thick black frames that encased hearing aids.
"When I put them on for the first time, it really made something that was kind of a really secret part of me quite visible.
When those glasses broke in the lead-up to high school, Fiona decided not to fix them.
Instead, for more than two decades, she did her best to keep her deafness invisible, developing strategies that would allow her to pass as hearing, which she continues to use today.
"There are many little tricks that I have, that a lot of other deaf people use as well," she says.
"It's things like sticking to topics of conversation so that I'm anchored into certain sounds and words. If I'm really well-read on a topic, I'm much more comfortable talking about it because I can problem-solve around pieces of information I might have missed out on."
Finding her place
In her late twenties, Fiona began engaging with the Deaf community, and developing her own Deaf identity.
That idea persisted, even as she signed up for Auslan classes and began learning to sign.
"I thought that maybe I could become an interpreter and help 'real' deaf people … and when I started to attend meet-ups in pubs and clubs with other deaf people, the penny dropped.
"I realised, wait a second, this language is incredibly useful to me.
Nowadays, Fiona makes a point of disclosing her deafness more often.
"I'm slowly getting better and more confident at revealing that I'm deaf... but it still feels like a tremendous step to say to someone, 'I've got hearing loss, can you repeat that?'"
She is also using her platform as a poet and an essayist to share her story. Her memoir, The Shape of Sound, is due for release next month.
Contending with a new diagnosis
As well as being profoundly deaf in her left ear, Fiona recently learned that a condition called otosclerosis means she will eventually lose her hearing completely.
She says her connection with the Deaf community and access to Auslan has made what would ordinarily be a distressing experience something hopeful.
"Initially I was quite overwhelmed, I thought I'd have more time to learn [Auslan] before I really needed to use it," she says.
"I feel really really fortunate to have found Deaf culture when I did because it's helped me so, so much."
The Shape Of Sound is due for release in March.
The Drum airs weeknights on ABC and News Channel.
