Rotary members, like so many of the passionate people walking in our parade who dedicate their lives to helping people dealing with Domestic Violence situations, are motivated by stories like this.
The following story has been shared with us in the hope that other victims will be inspired to take action and reach out for the help that surrounds them.
Thank you to this lady. We'll obviously not publish names ... but you know how much your story inspired us. We hope it does to others as well.
I am lucky
I am a survivor
This is a story of Domestic Violence and Coercive Control perpetrated on myself and my children.
But I have recovered. What happened to me in my 20s and 30s seems like a distant memory. And it is like it happened to someone else. I have blocked and buried a lot of it, though at times when I least expect it, there are triggers to trip me up.
Back to the beginning
I grew up on a farm with my parents & brothers where I had an idyllic life in a family where there was love and respect.
I led a sheltered life and was completely naïve and unworldly when I met my future husband.
He was impressive - tall & strong, blond & blue-eyed, charismatic with a winning smile that could light up a room.
My Mother, who was wary of any boy who showed an interest in me, was taken in as He promised He would look after me, allow me to complete my tertiary studies and find opportunities for me to progress a career in music.
My Mother had brought me up to ‘save myself for the right man’ and told me that ‘I would know him if he didn’t try anything’. And so it was.
I was completely under His spell and in a short time we were married.
I gave my parents 2 weeks’ notice of our wedding which we had at the farm. It was a fairytale wedding at which He & I sang “Summertime” from Porgy & Bess (George Gershwin). He had a beautiful singing voice.
Shortly after, we boarded a ship for England where He was to take up an employment contract for a year.
About a week into the voyage we were having drinks with two other couples we had made friends with. The waiter served us drinks and I smiled at him.
He (my husband) immediately crushed my hand and led me away down to the cabin (in the bowels of the ship). He closed the door, knocked me to the floor and shouted abuse at me and kept striking at my head. He called me a slut amongst other terms. I was breathless & helpless, not knowing what had happened to me. He made me say I was sorry, but I didn’t know what for.
I felt I had failed him, I felt guilty, I felt ashamed. I didn’t know what to do.
I felt diminished.
There was no apology from Him (there never was) and after a while we returned to the lounge where He held my hand and lovingly called me darling and acted as if nothing had happened.
Another time, He wouldn’t dance with me so I accepted a dance from one of our friends. Again, I was led away and beaten in the cabin.
He made me believe I had caused His behaviour, and therefore I had to accept His punishment.
And I was in love.
In public He acted as though He worshipped me, though cutting me down if I said something He didn’t like, smiling in a condescending way.
Alongside this, there were fun times we had on board and in the countries we visited on the way. He and I auditioned for a talent quest on board and won.
He was critical of what I said, what I wore. I tried so hard to please Him.
He told me not to wear jeans or trousers as I had a fat arse. He made me try to look like Sophia Loren – she was His idol.
By the end of the trip I was feeling ill and I imagined it was from the beatings I had received.
I was pregnant.
I was forbidden to tell my parents.
He told me what to write, he checked my letters and would post them Himself.
In England we lived in an Inn built in the 1600s on the top floor in the attic. The landlady was a widow whom He quickly impressed and became close to.
When our first child, a son, was born He treated me like a Queen lavishing me with gifts. This lasted a couple of weeks and then I was beaten again.
And He rationed and withheld affection. Many a night He turned his back on me leaving me there unable to sleep.
I was also made to feel like a hopeless mother with Him handing the baby to the landlady because I had no clue.
There were happy times too at the Inn.
Whilst He was at work I would help the landlady by preparing bread & cheese sandwiches for the lunchtime drinkers and then playing the piano with them singing along.
Back in Australia there were subsequently two more children, a son and a daughter, and with each of their births He treated me like a Queen.
However after the celebratory birth of our daughter, He soon returned to the same old regime, and it was at that time I knew categorically that I no longer loved Him, I hated Him. I knew I had to find a way out. I believed I would.
But there was no way out I knew of: there was nothing out there. No-one spoke of it.
There was no awareness of Domestic Violence, let alone Coercive Control.
This was my secret life. I couldn’t tell anyone, not even my parents, my doctor, my family. No-one knew. And I couldn’t articulate it.
I was a slave to Him and He completely dominated me.
Other examples
He would lock me, and the children, in the house so we couldn’t get out.
My parents bought me a car, but He would hide the keys so I couldn’t drive it when I wanted to.
I wasn’t allowed my own money or bank account. He insisted we do the weekly grocery shopping together and He decided what we would buy.
He was always checking up on me.
He was dramatic and craved attention and sympathy. He would claim that He wanted to end his life and threatened to drive off a bridge near home.
He never apologised.
He told me if ever I thought of leaving Him I would never see the children again.
He was unpredictable.
I was on-edge a lot of the time.
I lived in apprehension and fear.
Witnessed by the children
He would upend the dinner table and throw his plate of food to the ceiling, filling the children with fear.
They craved His attention and His love, though they feared Him.
They were bewildered when after an abusive episode which they had walked in on, He turned it into a happy scene where we all sang and danced as though nothing had happened.
One such time was when He had knocked me to the floor, sat on me and had His hands around my neck.
When my children walked in He pretended it was fun, but they saw the fear on my face.
My daughter, aged 4 then went to her bedroom and packed a tiny white case and said she was leaving.
Another was when He was shouting and swearing and broke my records.
I remember my daughter aged 4, saying when He was swearing “Daddy, you won’t go to Heaven if you swear”.
The last violent episode happened quickly when He tried to knock me down and struck me with a fork to my head leaving clear marks on the hairline.
Suddenly I felt strong, and the next day I rang the Women’s Information switchboard who said I must report it to my Doctor.
This gave me a glimmer of hope.
The Doctor told me to contact his friend, a solicitor, who organised for my former husband to be served with a Non-Molestation Order.
I was terrified about what I had done, even though beforehand I had organised for all the locks to be changed.
We legally separated and He had fortnightly access when He was to pick up the children from our former home.
One day before I arrived to pick up the children from school, without any warning He picked up the boys from school and left our daughter behind.
At this time I had met my future partner and he came to live with me during which a new phase of abuse occurred where I was accused as the perpetrator and the children the victims. He then pitted the children against each other as well as against me.
This included:-
Using our sons to support His case against my partner and me. He made them swear in front of a JP that we had beaten them.
It was quickly put before a Judge in the Family Court. It was ordered that the children were to be observed together with my partner and me to determine if the boys showed any fear. They displayed no fear. However Justice Gunn (in his wisdom) ordered that the boys should live with their father and the girl live with us pending a custody trial.
In the meantime our daughter felt abandoned by her father and our sons were told to destroy my partner’s possessions and disobey me on access weekends.
Our sons were pitted against our daughter. She had the traumatic experience of her father with his hands around her throat trying to make her disown me. Luckily the grandfather (with whom He was living) intervened with a cricket bat to his son.
I won the custody trial after 12 long months and the boys came back to me with only the clothes they stood up in. They weren’t allowed to bring their bikes, their school books, their toys etc. And, they were out of control and rebellious.
My daughter, excluded by her father still craved his validation. She begged him for her beautiful dolls’ house (made by the grandfather) but her father had an excuse each time:-
1. He didn’t want other children wrecking it,
2. the grandmother wanted it, and
3. the very hurtful “he was giving it to a little girl who deserved it more”.
Whilst I was protected by the Non Molestation Order, I then had to prove myself, my innocence, my worth as a Mother in the Family Court. In one way the system protected me but then it also opened up a new avenue for Him to punish me and continue His abuse and inadvertently abuse all of us emotionally and psychologically.
This is still the case today in the Family Court where an abuser (man or woman) can bring forward bogus accusations.
There are many examples of child abuse here, but suffice to say that each one of my children from this marriage is scarred. There was no counselling available nor offered to me or my children at the time.
My eldest son who was made to be His father’s agent and then dropped, and who suffers with anger management issues, my second son who was overlooked by his father and bullied by his brother was on drugs and alcohol for more than 10 years of his life, and my daughter who, though a high achiever, is unable to choose a kind and loving partner, and instead has picked two abusive partners. This has also factored into the life of her own daughter. Both my daughter and grand-daughter have been emotionally abused by my daughter’s ex-partner.
The problem is intergenerational and one which is so hard to solve.
It is a systemic failure.
In Rotary’s paper to the Royal Commission, it is stated that the eradication of Domestic Violence could be compared with the eradication of polio. It will take years to find a way forward.
It needs to start in the schools, to be a part of the curriculum.
I feel it will take a generation of education before we see any permanent change. However, we must keep going to implement change.
I am proud to be part of Rotary’s on-going movement and campaign to create awareness and to drive change in Government policy.
It has taken me many years to regain my self-confidence and a sense of self-worth.
But, as I have said, I am lucky
“I am one of the lucky ones”
And if my story saves only one life, then it is worth me telling it.
IF YOU are in a relationship of Domestic Violence, including Coercive Control, please telephone or Google 1800 RESPECT to start your journey to safety.
IF YOU ARE IN AN EMERGENCY SITUATION - please call 000 immediately
There is help and support out there for you today. You are not alone!
