This story was passed on to me from a lady in rural Wales....

" I was being abused for years, but I didn't recognise it as such. I was not allowed to wear what I wanted when I went out. For example, in the summer I couldn't wear a T-shirt or thin cotton top unless I also put on a baggy cardigan several sizes too large which obscured my shape. In time, I accepted that my figure must be repulsive and automatically bought and wore shapeless, unattractive clothes in dull colours that would not draw attention to myself.

At one time, when cash was short, I went out to work. He was unemployed at that time and so, of course, able to drop in on my place of work to see me. I realize now that he was checking up on me, to see that I was behaving correctly. On one occasion I was helping a deaf boy half my age. That night he subjected me to such a tirade of anger that I was shaking and had to promise that I wouldn't show such attention to anyone again.

Mostly, I was not allowed to go out on my own, but had to be accompanied by him or one of his awful relatives, usually his mother. When I did go out on my own I had to account to him for every moment: where I went, who I saw, who spoke to me, etc.

He never laid a finger upon me for many years. He didn't have to. Domestic abuse is all about power and control, and he could control me completely without the use of violence. But then I inherited a sum of money, which he began spending on alcohol, and would get drunk most nights. It was then that he began hitting me. I put up with this for several years, and never told anyone anything about it, as I was ashamed. I didn't know what to do or where to turn to, and I didn't have the mental strength to do anything about it: it was as though I was numb and unable to function properly.

Then one night he beat me up so badly that something inside me snapped. I knew that if I continued to stay with him he would end up killing me. So while he went to the bathroom to relieve himself I struggled to the phone, dialled 999, and begged the police to come and rescue me. They came and took me away to a Women's Aid refuge in town, as my husband had disappeared out of the back door when they arrived.

Later, I learnt that he had finally been found and arrested. Much to my disgust, he was given a suspended sentence by the court, so that I was unable to return to my home. But after some time at the refuge while I got my finances sorted, I eventually found a little place of my own. I now live alone, many miles from my old home, under a new name; but I still live in fear that one day he will find me and finish what he started.

It has taken me a long time to come to terms with what has happened to me. After years of emotional and physical abuse I was a non-person: a zombie just going through the motions of living. But I attended the Freedom Programme, run by Women's Aid, and there learnt all about domestic abuse, which helped me tremendously. I was also able to take advantage of the counselling service available through Women's Aid. Now, I have my personality again, and self-confidence, and have recovered from the depression which I suffered from for a long time. I look forward to the future. "