Please read Jean’s second blog post – a powerful and courageous account of her experiences of domestic abuse that really helps us understand how difficult it is to escape from a coercively controlling and violent partner.
Having grown up in a family home (Mum, Dad, big brother and myself), where coercive control and manipulation dictated the environment we lived in as well as my mum’s ability to make her own choices freely. My mum did an amazing job of protecting my brother and I and wrapping us in her love every minute of our lives despite the challenges she was facing … but no matter what, it always affects the kids. We could sense her anxiety, worry and need to try and manage our every day life.
When she split from my dad, when I was age 15 I swore that would never happen to me. No one would ever control me. Until not even 2 years later I found myself in a relationship with a man several years older than me. It started off filled with so much love and attention that I had never experienced from a male that I was blind to what was going on behind the scenes.
It all went so fast and very quickly I was spending more time at his house than my mums, I had confided in him about what my mum had gone through and he was ‘horrified’ and told me he would never do that and promised to keep me safe. He liked to know where I was, who I was with and who I was talking to on my phone … telling me it was because he loved me so much and was making sure I was safe. It started when he created a wedge between me and my brother because he did not like me speaking to or being around my brothers friends.
He told me I didn’t need make up as I was so pretty and discouraged me from putting it on, although it was something I enjoyed and made me feel confident at the time. Then it was my clothes, he would slag off any outfit I put on that he deemed ‘too revealing’, calling me an ‘attention seeker’ or a ‘slut’, and liked a say in everything I put on when going out. He would constantly text when I was out with my friends, or at uni and get mad if I didn’t respond straight away. I lived with my phone in my hand, scared of upsetting him. He always seemed to know where I was before I had even told him and would get defensive if I asked how he knew, turning it on me as if why did I have an issue with him knowing where I was.
He became jealous of my relationship with my mum as we were very close and would make me feel guilty for choosing to spend time with her over him, set time barriers on how long I had with my mum as he always planned something for us to do the same day/time and he would need to pick me up… but I still at this point couldn’t see any issues with his behaviours because he constantly told me he loved me more than anyone could and would do anything for me.
This went on for around 6 months then one night we were out at his works night out and were walking back to the hotel we were staying in and out of the blue he started having a go at me for dancing when we were out. He got angry very quickly when I said I hadn’t done anything and was with him the full night. And told me it was my fault that his friend at work had said I was good looking. I tried to say it wasn’t my fault, I was scared and trying to calm him down as we turned to walk down an isolated path with no one else around, I was crying and saying sorry although looking back I don’t know what for, when he came behind me put an arm round my neck, held me still and punched me with his fist in the ribs. He told me to stop crying as we got to the hotel entrance, I was unable to speak and sobbed under my breath in silence, I felt embarrassed. When we got to the room he was shouting and throwing things around I was scared and shocked. When he fell asleep, I lay next to him crying and awake all night.
When I went to the bathroom in the morning and pulled up my top to look at my ribs, which were very sore, I could see a bruise in the shape of his fist. I remember fighting back tears while thinking how the hell this has happened as I climbed back in to bed, scared to upset him again. As he rolled over and cuddled me I flinched, he abruptly said what’s wrong with you, as I said my ribs were sore from last night, he said that wasn’t him he wouldn’t hurt me he loved me so much. He was so sorry how things had turned but he hadn’t caused that bruise and he was only angry at his friend from work because I was his. He blamed the particular drink he had that night and promised he wouldn’t lose his temper again.
I believed every word that came out his mouth at the time as I didn’t want to believe otherwise as I loved him too at this point. From here things got worse.. the physical abuse became more frequent, especially after he had been drinking. I became nervous if we were out anywhere as I learned the things that triggered him .. he would be the life and soul, a great laugh and everyone loved him. But while this was going on I would clock one word someone said, one look that I knew ‘shit that’s tonight f**ked when we leave’. He would wait until we were home and totally flip his personality lashing out, calling me names and bringing me down then in the morning be full of remorse and tell me it was only because he loved me. I tried to leave but he talked me back round with how much he loved and needed me.
This continued to escalate until I found myself cut off from friends and family, scared to tell my mum as I didn’t want to worry her, I was scared what she would do in case it made things worse because I knew it wasn’t right but I was scared of leaving him at the same time. I wasn’t doing anything I wanted to do with my friends, I had stopped wearing make-up and lost a lot of weight as I felt constantly sick and developed an eating disorder as it felt like the only thing within my control.
There were several times he would flip out over the smallest things, like me getting a text message and he would throw my phone out of the car window while driving, or break it. And behind closed doors the level of physical violence got worse til I found myself a number of times thinking ‘I am going to die in here’.
One morning as I got ready for uni my friend who I collected on the way to uni text to say her train was running late and the simple noise of my phone going set him off ‘who would text me at this time in the morning’ as he went into a rage. He flung me on the bed, held a pillow over my face then flung me up against the wall, smack my face in to it, and then held me off the ground by my throat. He then grabbed me as I tried to speak to him telling him to calm down and held me over the bannister of the stairs. I was petrified and remember thinking ‘you need out of here’.
As he dropped me down, I seen my car keys and I ran grabbed them and got out the backdoor to my car – knowing he wouldn’t bring it outside as he wouldn’t want any neighbours to see anything. I got in my car and drove to the train station as fast as I could knowing it was the only place I was going to find someone I knew. My friend got in the car and when seeing the mess of me told me I had to go to the police, but I was too scared. We went to uni and I hid all day in her room at halls. He phoned her phone constantly from my phone as he had taken it from me and pleaded for me to go and meet him.
From there I tried to stay away but bombarded me with messages that always started with love, then threat that he would take his own life if I didn’t answer him and ended with abuse when I did not answer. He then began following me and stalked me in a car that was not his. He phoned my house phone and threatened my brother, turned up at the door and sat outside my house. My friends seen him driving out of my uni car park and became concerned that he had been at my car and worried he had done something to it and encouraged me to go to the police. I remember being terrified going to the police station because he had been following me and what if he seen me going in.
Luckily, I had supportive friends who took me in their car to the police station and helped me begin to explain. I was also very lucky to have been greeted with a very empathetic and understanding police officer who gave me time, space and helped me understand the true level of what had been happening without making me feel silly or ashamed which I was already feeling in abundance.
The police took me home to my mum that day, where my mum broke down and only then did I realise the true stress and worry she had been experiencing with the inclination she had about what was going on and watching me change as a person, all while feeling completely helpless because I didn’t want to admit it, or accept help because all I felt until that moment was shame that I had ‘allowed’ myself to get in to this mess.
He was arrested and released on bail which terrified me, I looked over my shoulder every step, wouldn’t leave the house alone and even felt scared in my own home. He pled not guilty and we were going to have to face each other in court. I got a court visit to show me how things would be, that I would be behind a screen etc but still I thought there is no way I can face him. The court date arrived and I had an exam at uni that day, which meant I did not need to appear but he did and thankfully after dragging this out for months he plead guilty that day and was issued with a fine and community service.
It took me a long time to come to terms with what had happened, to like myself again, to stop blaming myself and the hardest part was…. I hated him for what he had done to me, but I was still sad at the ending of a relationship where I believed I loved him.. this is something I don’t feel is often acknowledged when discussing the ending of a domestic violent relationship, that underneath the hurt, physically and emotionally, the relief that you are free from the worry and constant state of fight or flight, you have also lost an element of your routine, all you have known for so long and you need to deal with that emotional loss and learn to love yourself again too.
It also took my mum a long time to deal with what had happened as she blamed herself for not doing more – domestic violence doesn’t only impact the direct victim it can cause upset and ill health to those closest to the victim who feel they do not know how to help.
This happened to me 12 years ago and only now, after going on the Women’s Aid training through my work, do I feel able to speak about it in such detail without feeling guilty, ashamed or sick. The things I have learned, which I wanted to do for my job role, in order to help anyone who may find themselves in a situation remotely like I was, or worse, that I needed to accept a lot of the things I have learned for my own story as well.