Women’s homelessness is often overlooked and under reported because women often stay hidden on the streets.

When people picture homelessness, they rarely picture a woman. That’s because most of us don’t sleep in doorways, we hide. Behind closed doors, in overcrowded flats, in stairwells, or with men we barely know just to feel safe for the night. But safety is an illusion when you’re a woman with nowhere to go.

I’ve lived it. I’ve walked the streets trying to look invisible, praying not to be noticed by the wrong person. Women experiencing homelessness face dangers that rarely make the headlines, sexual assault, exploitation, and constant fear. 

We don’t always have the luxury of saying “no” when saying “yes” means a shower, a hot meal, or just a place to sleep without freezing.

The Truth About Women’s Homelessness

Many women stay in abusive relationships because the streets feel more dangerous. Imagine that, choosing abuse because it feels safer than being alone outside. That’s the reality for far too many.

Then there’s the exploitation. You’re told you’re beautiful, that someone will take care of you. But those promises come with a price. A warm jacket turns into a demand. A place to stay becomes a trap. And before you know it, your body becomes currency for survival. Not because you chose it, but because the system didn’t give you any real choice.

And when we do ask for help, we’re often met with shame or suspicion. Hostels can be unsafe, full of men, drugs, and no boundaries. The fear doesn’t end when you get inside, it just changes shape.

Women’s homelessness is often hidden, but that doesn’t make it less real. We need women-only spaces, trauma-informed support, and services that see beyond the behaviour and understand the pain behind it.

So if you see a woman acting out, don’t rush to judge. Ask what happened. Ask what she needs. Because I wasn’t a “bad woman” or a “junkie.” I was a traumatised girl trying to survive a world that had failed me.

We don’t need pity, we need protection, empowerment, and a place to heal. Let’s stop turning away. Let’s listen, believe, and build systems that make space for our stories and our strength.