Radio presenter, podcaster and comedian bravely bares all in his debut stand up show about domestic violence

“I am a survivor of domestic violence and today I'm breaking my silence”, says radio DJ, TV presenter, podcaster and comedian James Barr. His new Edinburgh Fringe show, Sorry I Hurt Your Son (Said My Ex to My Mum), tackles the aftermath of an abusive relationship and balances poignant and deeply personal moments with comedy and laughter. 1 in 4 men in same sex relationships are the victims of domestic abuse; an issue that Barr says is not talked about enough in the community.

We caught up with James to find out more about his new show and the experiences that led to its creation.

If you can, how would you sum up this show in one sentence?

I'm in my chaos era as I heal from an abusive relationship and this hour is my messy holiday to Gran Canaria. 

Your show obviously deals with a deeply personal and traumatic experience. How do you balance the emotional gravity with humour? 

That's been tough but I realised that comedy itself is a similar cycle to abuse. As comedians we often create a tension and release pattern with the structure of a joke taking us to unexpected 'punchlines' and as soon as I realised this I had to explore it. I've been careful to make sure we're never undercutting the truth of my story with anything inauthentic, for a while I found it hard sitting in the tension, but I think I'm now at a place where I hold the audience's hand through the darker moments. We're never laughing at the abuse itself, more my response or the relatable things we all do when we've experienced something so traumatic. 

Have audience reactions influenced the development of the show in any way?

Hugely. I have a board of post-it notes with me in Edinburgh. I'm writing down things fellow survivors have said to me after the show and it's been a huge strength to carry them with me. It's also helped me to break through some of my PTSD and remember what happened to me. The biggest thing audiences have helped me with is finding confidence to tell this story. I realised I couldn't just brush this under the carpet and move on, I had to really explore what happened and talk the audience through my experience – whilst resisting the urge to quickly get over it.

Would you say writing (and performing) this show has been a bit of a cathartic process for you?

I would say yes and no actually. I think it's been the most challenging thing I've ever done in my life. I've been angry, sad, happy and sad again throughout this entire process but I'm not sure if that's the 'show' or my reality. I've turned my trauma into art and honestly, I don't know if I realise how difficult that would be. Every criticism coming from both myself and others directly relates to my experience with this particular ex, it hurts. I've had to 'edit' my memories, remove things I desperately want to say so that the audience can move through the show more comfortably or narratively – in small ways, I've literally silenced myself. I've also had to deal with people continuously asking me to tell me why I loved my ex, to take us to the beginning and dig deeper into the start of the story and that was not a place I wanted to be in. To an extent I've also felt like the show was holding me back from moving on - I could be sunbathing with a new boyfriend in Mykonos by now if I hadn't decided to go through with this, but I did. And I owe it to myself, what happened and my future happiness to process all of this properly and I don’t know if I would've done this without this show.  

Beyond your show, what other steps do you think society needs to take in order to better support individuals facing domestic violence? Particularly those in the LGBTQ+ community?

I could write an essay on this question. I've experienced more shame as a survivor of domestic abuse that I ever felt coming out as gay. When you're gay you have a community waiting for you. Pride, Kylie Minogue, poppers. When you've been in an abusive relationship you have silence. The LGBTQ+ community have got to start honestly talking about our trauma, we are not okay. We have so much work to do if we want to be happy – the world has battered queer people and it continues to. Conversion therapy still being legal in the UK sends a subconscious threat to all of us that basically says "you chose this, you're going to hell and you can change". That's just one example, but these zeitgeist attacks on queer people penetrate our subconscious and make us grow up in a world where we are 'not normal', and that gives us trauma. Love is Love, but abuse is abuse, and how can we truly love, nourish and care for one another freely, both partners and other members of the community if we don't have an understanding of how to truly love ourselves?

In general, we need to have way more candid conversations about abuse if we're going to prevent it. The statistics are so loud and so many of us are afraid to discuss it. If we can be honest about this and normalise the conversation then I believe we can stop it happening. I was too afraid to speak to anyone about my experiences at the time in case I might want to marry my ex boyfriend. I told no one. I didn't want to change my friends' opinions. I didn't want to be a victim. I just didn't realise I already was. If I'd told my friends, if I'd blurted it out at a party – maybe my ex would've taken some accountability for his actions and stopped it? I'm going to be a voice for people that have experienced this kind of behaviour from a partner for the rest of my life.

James Barr: Sorry I Hurt Your Son (Said My Ex To My Mum) will be performed at 5.15pm in Underbelly Bristo Square (Buttercup) from 31stJuly – 25th August (not 12th)

Booking link: https://underbellyedinburgh.co.uk/event/james-barr-sorry-i-hurt-your-son