Things I didn’t realise were domestic violence

When I thought about domestic violence, I imagined bruises, and beatings. I didn’t realise that domestic violence could be quiet. It could look like love, concern, jealousy, or an argument that I was somehow always responsible for.

I didn’t realise that I could be afraid without being physically attacked every day. The fear came from the whole pattern of behaviour, not just the physical violence.

The strangling, slapping and hitting happened occasionally. There was even one occasion when he threatened to hit me with a pan. But I didn’t understand at the time that I didn’t need to be physically hurt every day to be living in fear.

For the majority of the time, the intimidation came in other forms.

He would shout at me and verbally attack me, not just during an argument, but for hours. He would attack my character, my intelligence and my achievements. He would tell me that my BA (Hons) degree meant nothing and that it didn’t matter. He could go on for hours, reducing something I had worked hard for until I began to question whether it had any value at all.

There were also moments when his anger became physical, even when he wasn’t physically attacking me. He threw a glass across the room and broke things during arguments. He would frequently go into drunken rages, sometimes three or four times a week. I never knew when an argument would escalate, how long it would last, or what state he would be in.

He also deprived me of sleep.

At the time, I didn’t necessarily recognise each of these things as part of domestic violence. I thought of them as arguments, drunken rants, anger, or relationship problems. But living with repeated shouting, intimidation, verbal attacks, broken objects and unpredictable rages meant that I was constantly on edge.

And that constant fear and stress affected me.

It affected my confidence. It affected my ability to feel safe in my own home. And, ultimately, it affected my mental health.

I didn’t realise that constantly making me question myself could be abusive. I felt like I was going mad.

Some other things I didn’t realise were domestic violence:

• Gradually becoming isolated from friends and family. I remember being invited to a birthday party and being told I can’t go and being told my mum doesn’t care about me frequently, we had minimal contact for years.
• Being told what I could and couldn’t spend my own money on was a form of control.I remember buying myself a coat and coming home to being told off for it. At the time, I didn’t think of it as financial abuse. I thought I had simply made a purchase that he didn’t agree with. Looking back, I realise it wasn’t really about the coat. It was about the idea that I needed to justify what I spent my own money on, and that he felt entitled to decide what I should and shouldn’t buy.
• Having my phone checked or being questioned about messages.
• Being called names and then being told I was “too sensitive.”
• Being told that things I remembered happening had never happened.
• Being made to question my own memory or perception.
• Being blamed for their anger or behaviour
• Feeling like I had to apologise just to stop an argument
• Changing my behaviour to prevent an argument.
• Being threatened, even if the threat wasn’t directly against me.
• Someone using their physical presence to intimidate me.
• Being prevented from leaving a room or situation
• Being made to feel that I couldn’t survive without them.
• Being made to believe that nobody else would want me.
• Being told that my friends or family were the problem.
• Being made to feel that everything wrong in the relationship was my fault.
• Being constantly compared to other people.
• Having my achievements minimised. Being made to feel that I wasn’t good enough.
• Being told that the abuse only happened because I “made” them angry. Being convinced that the relationship problems were simply normal arguments.
• Losing confidence in my own judgment.
• Thinking, “It isn’t really abuse because they haven’t hit me.”
• Thinking, “They can be so loving, so they can’t really be abusive.”
• Thinking, “Maybe I’m overreacting.”
• Thinking, “If I just behave differently, this will stop.”
• Thinking, “It’s my fault.”
• Thinking that I needed to wait until things became “bad enough” before I was allowed to call it abuse.