I was 16, pregnant, alone and living in an unhappy home when I met him, 24. My parents hated him, but our relationship was strained and as a nieve child, it pushed me further into his grasp. He took me away from my family, moved me and my baby across town as soon as baby arrived. He cut contact with many of the people who would have seen what was happening, especially my mum. It kills me to imagine how that must have felt for her, she’s an amazing mum. I should have listened to her.
He hurt me, many times, but I was so controlled I believed it was all my fault. I can’t explain it in words, but he had this hold over me and I was terrified of what he’d do to us if I tried to leave. I was right to be frightened.
On the day I left, he attempted to strangle me. It wasn’t the first time but it was real this time, he wasn’t letting go. He knew I was leaving, my baby was already in a safe place and I was going there too. My mum’s. I managed to grab my tea cup from the bedside table and I smashed him on the head with it. I’m not sure I’ve ever hit someone so hard, when you’re fighting for your life you find strength you didn’t know you had. It stunned him, I got away and ran as fast as I could. The police took photos of my neck, called it “domestic assault” and didn’t even speak to him! I never looked back. He lost all control and took his own life the next day. I was so young, it messed me up big time but I’m a stronger person for it – and it made me a fiercely protective mother. No one will ever hurt us like that again, it was 23 years ago. I had therapy at the time, from a local Domestic Violence service. They were amazing, I was the youngest in the group and learning about the “cycle of violence” opened my eyes. No one has ever touched me again. While it’s horrific that I was a child and he was an adult, my brain was young enough to use the experience to learn from it. I’m not sure anyone who meets me now could imagine I ever went through something that dark.