Siobhan's story:

You might say that my abuser isn’t a typical abuser. What I mean is he doesn’t fit the stereotype society holds about domestic violence. In reality there is no “typical abuser” nor is there a “typical victim”. Abusers come from all walks of life, ages, socio-economic classes, races, religions. My abuser was educated and had a wealthy position in society. He wasn’t a yob or a football hooligan. He was a person. Just like you and me.

I met my abuser eight years ago, far away from home and in an extremely vulnerable position. I was an easy target. The mental and emotional manipulation began at once. I was groomed for the role my abuser expected me to fulfil – a subordinate, subservient woman. The web of manipulation is so complex that very few who are not specialised in the field struggle to understand the concept. In my case emotional abuse slowly developed into a chokehold of control. He began so slowly I almost didn’t notice it. I had been taught to ignore my instincts and defer all decisions, opinions, thoughts and feelings to him. I was not even allowed friends.

The degradation is something that haunts me still, even after achieving my freedom. Having food spat all over my face and shirt, being defecated upon, being forced to perform sex acts against my will, being beaten into believing that all I am good for is to service the needs of my abuser . . . the list goes on. The mental scars are hardest to heal. It is difficult to believe that I am a worthwhile person, that I deserve to be treated well. I still find myself fighting inner demons when faced with a £4 t-shirt from Primark or a haircut or a hot bubble bath. My abuser leaves these inner demons with me. He is preying on his next victim while I am left worrying that I do not deserve to treat myself like a human being.

The physical abuse began within a year of the relationship starting. It was so small at first I hardly noticed it. A push turned into a slap, a slap turned into a punch. A punch turned into being dragged down a flight of stairs during pregnancy. That attack turned into chasing me through the house with a knife while my two-week-old baby slept. The intensity of the attacks increased until my abuser raped me and attempted to murder me.

The violence never happened in isolation, it was always followed immediately by emotional manipulation – excuses, blaming me, promises to change, buying me gifts, persuading me to take him back and even convincing me that I had imagined the entire thing. I remember vividly after he tried to kill me he lay stroking my hand and tried to kiss me. He told me he loved me. Then he rolled over and went to sleep almost immediately. I lay there beside him, covered in bruises and tears, listening to his contented snores. In the days that followed he pretended everything was normal, he bought me gifts, he promised to change, he got everyone he knew involved in trying to persuade me he was an amazing husband. But I remember looking into the mirror and seeing myself covered in bruises. I wanted to believe him when he told me I was imagining the bruises. But then other people saw them too: I knew they were really there and no excuses could hide them. At last I knew this relationship wasn’t normal. I knew what I had to do. I was terrified of going into a refuge, but I was far more terrified of staying. I knew that next time he attacked me I may not survive and my child would be left at his mercy, without me there for protection.

Life in a refuge was something I had to take one day at a time. The time it takes to begin recovering from abuse is massive and in most cases takes a lifetime. In refuge I shared a room with my young child and shared the communal living area, kitchen, bathroom and laundry facilities with the other residents. Refuges are charities and funding is not equal for all of the ones that exist. I have positive memories of some refuge staff and friends made there. But I also remember members of staff and residents who made life exceptionally difficult for me. Physically, it was a very old building with an archaic central heating system, which was so expensive to run that residents were only allowed 2 hours a day of hot water and central heating. The walls and windows were paper-thin. I arrived in winter and my child and I spent most of our time freezing cold. My first night I slept fully clothed and in my coat. Every night after that I put 3 blankets over the curtains to try and keep the warmth in. I had no dressing gown or jumpers and spent all of my £75 per week on rent, food and buying warm clothes for my child.

Most refuges are only staffed 9am - 5pm Monday to Friday. I had been in such a place before and knew that I needed far more support than that; otherwise I would go back to my abuser as I had done many times before. If I had not been able to go down to the refuge office in the middle of the night and talk to staff I am certain I would have seriously considered returning to my abuser.

Of all the refuges in my area, the only two offering 24-hour support were 100 miles away. Although I had no idea where I was going I relaxed a little in the knowledge that my abuser would never look in my hiding place. Little did I know that he had already begun court proceedings in an attempt to find and further abuse us.

I was almost immediately thrown into the legal arena with no knowledge of how the legal system worked. Very few solicitors have knowledge of how domestic violence operates, especially from a victim’s perspective. Whilst I was still in refuge I was ordered by a court to travel 3 hours to hearings and the same to facilitate child contact, all funded out of my own money – of which I had very little. Our abuser employed the same manipulation and lies to the court that he had used with me – and they believed his every word. So much so that they refused to even investigate the Domestic Violence, let alone the impact it had had upon my child. The legal system and all those professionals around me were dancing to the abuser’s tune. Nothing I could do or say would convince them otherwise. I looked to MPs and organisations for support and found none. Fewer people understood Domestic Violence and Abuse than I realised. I felt like an ant trying to climb Mount Everest. Why did no-one understand what was going on or think about the effects of this upon my child?

My life progressed as the legal situation intensified. I left refuge and rented a new house, my child began school, my recovery progressed, and I met a new partner. My child experienced, and still does to this day, massive behavioural issues. They range from tantrums, nightmares, night–waking, early rising, sleep disruption and toilet issues to violent episodes and controlling behaviour. These behaviours are a constant challenge to this day and are always considerably worse after contact with our abuser.

In the legal arena I was awarded residency, yet our abuser continued to abuse my child at contact, something that intensified massively. Abuse ranged from neglect, emotional, mental, and physical abuse or a combination of all of them at any given time. It was obvious to me that my child was suffering immensely. I was constantly worried about the effect of contact upon my child yet a court never took me seriously. I raised the issue many times. My abuser's opinion was always the one that took precedence over mine in the legal setting.

I eventually chose to rent a home with my new partner and child. This meant that I was no longer entitled to Legal Aid. Our joint income was judged to be above the stringent allowances set out by the awarding body. This is a heartbreaking paradox as paying for our own legal representation means that we are living in poverty. My partner and I lie awake every night worrying about where we will find the money for school meals, school uniform, birthdays and Christmas presents. The legal bill for the past 3 months alone is something we will be paying off for the next 12 months. A terrifying thought indeed when we have more court appearances scheduled. It frustrates us that a court cannot see that a man who loves his child would not put his child through this.

After one year of fighting for the impact of Domestic Abuse on my child to be investigated I am only now beginning to have the existence of the abuse acknowledged.