My journey is a long one which will never really end. I have two grown-up children, an amazing job, and a very happy home. Reflecting on where I am now, I see a path paved with fight and courage, a testament to how much I am capable of enduring and overcoming.
When I was younger, I fell into an abusive relationship. For two harrowing years, this relationship shaped my entire life and future. During that time, I endured one horrific incident after another. I was subjected to extreme physical violence, sexual abuse, and coercive control. Despite this, I called it love. I was trapped in a cycle of abuse, blind to the reality of my situation. I knew something was wrong, but I was just an empty shell, convinced that I deserved every bit of the torment. I felt utterly worthless.
Becoming a mum was the turning point. Everything changed when I looked into the eyes of my baby. I knew I had to get out—I had to save my child’s life. The love I felt for my perfect little person gave me the strength I never knew I had. My child opened my eyes and saved my life. Yet, the abuse didn’t stop there. He continued to follow me, using any means possible to hurt me and my family, even after I left him on what was yet another horrific day in a string of many.
He dominated my life, my mind, and my children’s lives for many years after the relationship ended. He continued to breach court orders and fathered many other children. All these other mothers had to flee from him too. When a support service offered their help, it was the first time anyone had truly listened to me or tried to understand my plight. This support was a lifeline, giving me the chance to fully understand what I had been through and helping me reclaim my life.
Despite all this, I still live each day in danger from my perpetrator, as do my children. We choose to stay because we refuse to give up the opportunity to be with our family, live in our hometown, and remain around our safety network and friends. We are already victims of someone else’s control and hate; why should we also lose our right to feel safe? This is our way of life, and our only other option, like many others, is to run and hide. But we refuse to give up our chance at a normal life, and we will keep fighting for our safety.
I hold onto the hope that the laws will change, that society will come to recognise the ongoing fear that people like me live with daily. All it took for me to change my life for the better was understanding and a compassionate ear willing to listen. I hope others can find the same support and understanding, and that one day, no one will have to live in fear as we do.
When I look back at my younger self, I see a girl who was so desperately searching for love and acceptance. I was 17 when I met him, the man who would turn my life into a nightmare. He was charming and attentive at first, saying all the right things to make me feel special and loved. But it didn’t take long for his true nature to reveal itself. The first time he hit me, I was in shock. I couldn’t believe someone who claimed to love me could cause me such pain. He apologized profusely, promising it would never happen again. I believed him because I wanted so badly to believe that he loved me.
However, the violence only escalated. Each incident was more brutal than the last. I would be left bruised and battered, both physically and emotionally. The abuse wasn’t just physical. He would belittle me, telling me I was worthless, that no one else would ever love me. He controlled every aspect of my life, from who I could see to what I could wear. I lost all sense of who I was. I was no longer the vibrant, confident girl I had once been. I was a shell of my former self, living in constant fear of his next outburst.
Looking back now, I can see how he manipulated me, isolating me from my friends and family. He made me dependent on him, convincing me that I had nowhere else to go, no one else to turn to. I felt trapped, unable to escape the cycle of abuse. Even when I became pregnant, the abuse didn’t stop. If anything, it got worse. He saw my pregnancy as another means of control, another way to trap me in his web of manipulation and violence.
When my baby was born, something inside me shifted. Holding my child in my arms, I realized I couldn’t let this be our life. I couldn’t let my baby grow up in an environment of fear and violence. I knew I had to leave, but the thought of escaping was terrifying. Where would I go? How would I survive? But the love I felt for my child gave me the strength I needed. I knew I had to try, for both our sakes.
The day I left him was one of the scariest days of my life. I had planned it for weeks, waiting for the right moment when I could get away safely. When the day finally came, I felt a mixture of fear and relief. I was afraid of what he would do when he found out I was gone, but I was also relieved to be taking the first step towards a new life.
Leaving him was just the beginning. The fear and control he had over me didn’t end when I walked out the door. He continued to haunt me, showing up at my new place, threatening me and my child. He breached court orders, making it clear that he would never let me go. I lived in constant fear, always looking over my shoulder, always expecting him to appear and turn my world upside down once again.
It was during this dark time that a support service stepped in. They offered me support when I needed it most, providing a safe space where I could share my story and begin to heal. For the first time, I felt heard and understood. They helped me understand the cycle of abuse, helped me see that I was not to blame for what had happened to me. This understanding was a crucial step in reclaiming my life. With their support, I began to rebuild, piece by piece, finding strength I didn’t know I had.
Living in fear has become a part of my daily life. I still worry about my safety and the safety of my children. We make choices every day to protect ourselves, to maintain our sense of normalcy in a world that feels anything but normal. We stay close to our support network, cherishing the safety and stability they provide. We refuse to let him drive us away from our home, our friends, our family. We have already lost so much to his control; we will not lose this too.
As I reflect on my journey, I am filled with a mixture of sadness and hope. Sadness for the years lost to fear and pain, but hope for the future and for the changes that need to happen. I hope that the laws will change, that society will recognize the ongoing fear that survivors of abuse live with every day. It is not enough to escape the physical presence of an abuser; the psychological scars and the constant threat linger long after the relationship has ended.
Understanding and compassion are crucial. All it took for me to change my life was someone willing to listen, someone who understood my fear and my pain. I hope that others in similar situations can find that same support and understanding. I hope that one day, no one will have to live in fear as we do. Until then, we will keep fighting for our safety, for our right to live free from fear and control. This is our journey, and it is far from over. But we are strong, and we will not be defeated.
My children and I have found a new sense of normalcy, a new rhythm to our lives that includes both the joy of the present and the shadow of the past. Each day is a testament to our resilience, to our ability to find happiness and stability despite the challenges we face. My job, my home, my children—they are all symbols of what we have overcome, of the life we have built from the ruins of our past.
In sharing my story, I hope to shed light on the reality of domestic abuse, to show that it is not just the physical violence that leaves scars, but the psychological control and manipulation that can be just as damaging. I hope to inspire others to seek help, to find their own strength, and to never give up hope for a better future.
This journey has taught me so much about myself, about my strength and my resilience. It has shown me the importance of support, of having people who believe in you and stand by you. It has also shown me the need for change, for better laws and better support systems for survivors of abuse. We cannot do this alone; we need society to recognize and respond to the ongoing fear and control that abusers exert over their victims.
As I continue on this journey, I hold onto the hope that things will change, that one day survivors like me will no longer have to live in fear. Until then, I will keep fighting, keep pushing for the changes that need to happen. This is my story, and I hope it can be a source of strength and inspiration for others. We are not alone, and we are stronger than we know. Together, we can create a world where no one has to live in fear, where everyone has the right to feel safe and valued.
