It Can Happen to Anyone . . .

You always think "It will never happen to me". I used to think the same thing. But many years ago, it DID happen to me. I used to have all those preconceived notions about women in violent relationships: "What's wrong with her? Why doesn't she just leave?" and so on. Perhaps that is precisely WHY it happened to me ... so that I would gain a better understanding of just what is going on with women who find themselves in these sorts of situations.

In hindsight, I was one of the lucky ones. I was never hospitalised by my partner as so many women (and men) are. If my story can help just one person living with domestic violence to escape the oppression, then I am happy to share.

It was many years ago: 1985 - I was studying at business college, just 18, and on my way home on the bus this young man caught my eye. Actually I thought he was interested in my friend! But the next day he appeared at the bus stop, and again the next ... and then the next. And it became clear even to inexperienced me that he was going out of his way to make sure we met up on the bus each day.

One thing led to another and we formed a relationship. I could not believe my luck! He was just amazing. Good looks, warm, gentle and caring. He even wrote me poetry, leaving it in my bag to find. I'll call him Steve.

I graduated business college at the end of that year and a few months later Steve was kicked out of home (I found out later for beating up his stepdad). We thought this was a perfect opportunity for us to move in together. We had talked about getting married - though were not officially engaged - and I wanted to leave my parents' home and have some independence. We both had jobs and could afford to so we did. Things were great - for about six months. Then the cracks began to appear. Steve's friends began to give him grief for living with me - "You never come out with us anymore. How's the ball and chain?" and so on. Steve changed jobs - to one with a great deal of stress. He did not cope very well and eventually left that job to take up another in a clothing store. At this point he began dealing drugs from the store - but was smoking more of it than he sold. His parents owned a gym and he was spending more and more time there - but would not take me with him, insisting that he go alone. All the gym sessions meant he became very muscular and powerful - and along with the body change came his personality change. He became aggressive, argumentative and constantly put me down. I was not used to that sort of treatment from anyone but especially from Steve, who had always been so loving and caring before. I believed myself to be intelligent and was in a well-paid job as a legal secretary for a city law firm. But eventually the constant denigration began to wear down my self-esteem and confidence. I began to believe the things he said to me.

Then Steve started to become paranoid, checking up on me constantly. He would insist that he approve the clothes I wore. If I bought something new he would have to see it first before I went out in it. I remember once buying a long white denim skirt. He insisted I show him the skirt, made me spin round in it then announced "You slut! You can see straight through it. You're not wearing that". Every lunch time at work I would have to walk to the local pay phone and call Steve at his work. Not because he wanted to hear my voice or because he had anything specific he wanted to speak to me about. No, he wanted to know exactly where I was at lunch time and making me call him meant that he knew I was standing at a pay phone for an hour. Often he would not even speak to me. He would be off serving customers and just leave me hanging on the other end of the line. I was too frightened to hang up, fearing what he might do when I got home, so I would just stand there, eating my lunch with a pay phone to my ear.

One day when Steve was at the gym I was clearing up a mess of ATM dockets that he had taken out of his wallet and left on the coffee table. I realised that one was not a docket but a note that he had left on the table. It was from a girl he worked with at the clothing store and it was pretty clear from the note that he was seeing her. I finally got up the nerve to confront him with it when he got home. The next thing I knew Steve had me round the throat pinned against the wall with my feet about half a foot from the floor (Steve was over six feet tall and I'm five foot six). He was calling me every name under the sun, accusing me of invading his privacy and next thing I was back-handed and on the floor. Steve stood there looking at me and the black eye that came up instantly, and burst into tears. He apologised saying he could not believe he had done that and please, PLEASE would I forgive him. He would never do it again. I loved this man and wanted to believe him. I'd also made a commitment to him (when we moved in together) and thought that the right thing to do was to try and make it work.

So I forgave him. Besides, I did not want to go home with a black eye. My father had given me a very hard time when I moved in with Steve - in fact he would not even speak to me whenever I called home. I was ashamed and did not want my family to think that I had failed at this commitment I had made.

It got easier for Steve after that. The next time he hit me was because a financial advisor came to our home to discuss future financial planning and he assumed I MUST be sleeping with him and made me send him away while he lurked in the kitchen peering out the window making sure I did exactly as he directed. I guess my fear was obvious because the advisor took one look at me and said "Come with me NOW. Just leave" but I told him it was all okay and now was just not a good time. As soon as the door was shut, Steve was at me calling me everything under the son and I ended up with another black eye.

I made all the excuses I could think of at work about why I was turning up in the state I was in - like "Oh I ran into a door" that kind of thing. One of the lawyers in the office looked at me one day and said "Gee, the doors in your house are getting a bit rough".

I changed jobs and the better pay enabled me and Steve to move into a new place closer to the city. I discovered shortly after my 20th birthday that he was seeing a girl local to our new flat. I didn't even bother to confront him with it as I knew what would be the result. One day, one of Steve's mates was over. I cannot even remember what set him off but next thing I was in a headlock on the ground and he was bashing into me. He threw me away from him onto the floor and I decided enough was enough. If he was going to do this in front of other people now, then we had reached a point of no return. So I called my brother and asked him to pick me up and I left and went back to my parents' home.

The very next day, Steve turned up in the driveway of my parents' place and sat there until I went out to see him. I got the whole sob story of how he could not possibly live without me and he would kill himself if I did not come back. I was too frightened of what he would do to me if I didn't so I made a compromise - "Obviously we can't live together but what if we went back to dating?" He agreed.

Because he was now out of a job, he could not meet the rent and had to move. I paid the bond for a new flat for him just to keep things peaceful. I visited him there and things were wonderful again - just like when we were first going out. Until I left. I had to catch the bus home. He waited with me at the bus stop. I got on the bus and carefully selected a seat which I thought was far enough away from the male passengers on the bus to not rile him. I was wrong. When I got home, I got a phone call from him calling me every name imaginable for sitting "right in the middle" of the men on the bus. Eventually he calmed down and things went back to relative normality.

The second time I visited him for dinner and things did not go well. During dinner we started to fight (about what I cannot remember) and when I got up to leave I found he had locked the door. I asked him to unlock it. He insisted I sit down and talk things through with him. When I refused he threw me on the floor and sat on me grabbing my shoulders and knocking my head against the floor. I passed out for a few seconds and when I came to he was sitting curled up in a corner looking at me with a terrified expression on his face. I mustered all the courage I had, stood up and asked him to unlock the door. He said it was already unlocked, so I opened it and left.

Shortly after I moved out of my parents' house and into a flat with a girlfriend. By this stage I weighed just 7 stone (98 pounds) and my self-esteem was completely shot. I believed everything Steve had said: No-one else but him could possibly love me. I was a loser. Ugly. Stupid.

That was when my girlfriend sent me away saying "I'll get him out of here. You go somewhere safe till I do". And she did. When I came home my bedroom had been trashed. Glass bottles broken through the bed, my cupboard stabbed with a screwdriver, my clothes cut up. I called the police. They just stood there and asked "So what's the problem".

Then the phone calls started. Harassing phone calls, threatening phone calls. "Don't hang up on me B*%ch! You'll spend your life looking over your shoulder". We had an old PABX switchboard at work and I had the receptionist listen in on a couple of calls so that if I needed to, I had someone else to verify what was happening.

I decided to take a positive step. I asked my (new) boss (who was a criminal lawyer) if I could arrange a restraining order. He told me I was being silly. I thought maybe Steve was right.

The calls continued. I went to see the Chamber Magistrate who told me I had grounds for a restraining order and he filled in the paperwork for me. My boss was annoyed. He thought it could be dealt with simply and easily by just ASKING Steve to leave me alone.

Before I had a chance to file the paperwork, Steve turned up at my work begging forgiveness - the usual "I can't live without you. I love you" line. I stood my ground and told him it was over. I could not continue with him and I wanted him to leave. He asked for a kiss goodbye. I thought if this will get rid of him then ok. He used the opportunity to head butt me and broke my nose. As I ran upstairs to my boss's office with two black eyes and blood pouring from my nose I asked "NOW can I get the restraining order". We were in court the very next day. I got the restraining order as my 21st birthday present.

I never heard from Steve again. About 7 months later I met the man who would later become my husband and he is everything a partner should be: caring, loving, devoted, and he would never raise a finger to me or our daughter. He is devastated to think I went through this experience and spent a lot of time trying to come to terms with what had happened to me - particularly when I would wake in the middle of the night in tears after having another nightmare.

So it CAN happen to ANYONE. No matter what your position in life, age, education or other demographic. If I learned anything from my experience it was this: people who abuse others - mentally, emotionally, financially, physically - do it out of their own sense of inferiority and self-loathing. In order to make themselves feel less insecure they put their partner down, shatter their self-esteem and confidence, and keep them dependent. This is the ONLY way such people can feel empowered, important and boost their own self-esteem. Men who do this are not powerful - it is an act of weakness and if you are a victim you are NOT stupid, ugly, fat, a slut ... or in the wrong. You MUST get out of the situation however you can. I was ashamed. Ashamed that I had let myself get into that situation. I had no self-esteem and confidence left and that made it impossible for me to ask for help. Even when I did I was told I was being silly. "Steve wouldn't be like that". But ask for help you MUST. There is a conspiracy of silence when domestic violence occurs and it MUST be stopped. Do not be afraid to speak up - to friends, to family or to co-workers. Tell SOMEONE. You must take a stand or the vicious circle will continue. Do not think no-one will believe you. Things are very different now than they were when I went through my experience. There are many more resources available for people living with domestic violence. Use them. Empower yourself and take action NOW!