A day in the life of a Refuge support worker

No two days are ever the same when you’re working in a refuge. 

Some mornings start with welcoming a new family – women and their children arriving at the refuge, often with little more than a few bags and a lot of anxiety. Other days are quieter, with the halls still and the office door barely knocking. But most days involve sitting down with residents for key work sessions – talking about housing, mental health, or helping them apply for things like a non-molestation order to protect them from their abuser. 

A big part of my job is emotional support. I spend a lot of time simply listening, empowering the women to rebuild their confidence and regain their independence. Sometimes I’m helping them understand complicated letters from solicitors or social workers. Other times, it’s supporting them through a Universal Credit application or helping them apply for a grant so they can afford basic essentials. 

Starting my day 

When I get in, I usually start by catching up with colleagues – asking about their evening or weekend. After that, I check emails, Teams messages, and take a look at my calendar for the day. If the health and safety checks haven’t been done yet, I’ll make sure they’re sorted. 

And then the day begins. That could mean responding to housing emails, speaking with external professionals, or spending time with residents who pop by the office –sometimes just to talk about their mental health, and other times because there’s been a development with their ex-partner, a court date, or a worrying attempt at contact. 

Settling women and families into the refuge 

When women and children arrive, the most important thing is that they feel safe and secure. That’s the absolute priority. But we also focus on making sure they have the basics – food, clothes, toiletries. Somewhere comfortable to sleep. A place to begin again. 

Some refuges I’ve worked in offer a little welcome bag – we call it a Grace Bag – filled with toiletries and essentials. It’s a small gesture, but it shows care, and for many women, that means a lot. 

In those first few days, we do regular check-ins to make sure they’re settling in okay, that they understand the space and routines, and that they know we’re here for them. 

One women comforts another in a home setting

Building trust 

One thing I’ve learned over the years is that giving someone space to speak – really speak – can be incredibly powerful. I try not to interrupt, finish their sentences, or rush them. Just giving them time to express themselves makes such a difference. 

And sometimes, it’s the everyday conversations that matter most – not just focusing on the trauma or their casework, but talking about weekend plans, something on the news, or just having a laugh. That helps build trust. It helps them feel seen as a person, not just a “client.” 

The hardest and most rewarding parts of the job  

The hardest part for me is not always seeing the whole journey. Because I’m a peripatetic worker – meaning I move between different refuges to offer support where it’s needed most – sometimes I leave before the women do. You don’t always get to see how things end, and that can be tough. 

Another challenge is managing expectations – especially when women are hoping for something that isn’t possible right away. You have to be honest, but still empathetic. It’s a delicate balance. 

But the most beautiful part is seeing someone transform. 

Women often arrive unsure of themselves – shy, anxious, feeling completely stuck. Then, over time, you see them grow stronger. You see them smile more. You hear them laugh again. Watching them start to believe in themselves and rebuild their lives – it’s a privilege to witness. And when they tell you how much your support has meant to them, it stays with you. 

A moment that stayed with me 

There was one woman I worked with whose situation really stuck with me. One day, I walked into the office and saw my colleague speaking with her – I could tell something was wrong from the look on her face. It turned out her husband had been spotted in the area. 

We had to tell her she and her children would need to move immediately, for their safety. It was heartbreaking. She had built strong connections here, and it was incredibly hard for her to leave. 

What made it worse was how difficult it was to find her a new space – she had immigration issues that made everything more complicated. It was so frustrating because she deserved to be safe and protected, like anyone else. We fought hard to get her the support she needed, and eventually, we did. But I’ll never forget the strength she showed during that time. 

What I wish people knew 

Living in a refuge isn’t easy. Many women struggle with the change, especially when they’re used to living independently. Sharing kitchens and bathrooms can take time to adjust to. 

There are also a lot of misconceptions. People think refuges are cold, clinical places, or that everyone here is in crisis. The truth is, they’re places of healing. And while the immediate danger might be over, the emotional recovery is just beginning. 

Many of the women I support are dealing with serious mental health challenges –depression, anxiety, PTSD. They need time, space, and a lot of understanding. 

Why this work matters 

This work matters because it changes lives. 

What might feel like a small action to us – helping with a form, sending a supportive text, listening without judgment – can mean everything to someone who’s rebuilding from scratch. 

Every little win matters. Whether it’s securing housing, getting a school place, or simply hearing a woman say, “I feel more like myself again” – those moments are worth celebrating.