Two coercive control survivors speak out
TWO of the women who contributed to the exhibition at the Creative Hub chose to stand up and speak about their experiences of coercive control at the launch. Given the sensitive nature of the following content the names of those involved have been changed.
Annie (not her real name) was the first to speak.
‘He controlled everything I did, where I went, who I saw, constantly asking me: “Where are you going? Who are you meeting? How long will you be? How much was that?” The mind games were relentless. Constant texts, tracking my phone, it was soul-destroying and had devastating consequences for me.
‘I have sat alone in the dark and wished he would kick me or punch me so that I would know it was over until the next time. But the emotional abuse, the mental abuse hurt me so much more than being bruised and battered, the impact of coercive control scarred me for so much longer.
‘I would describe it as like having a gun pointed at your head every day and you just don’t know when it’s going to go off. Not knowing on a daily basis what you are going to encounter, afraid to speak for fear of upsetting him, apologising constantly, continuously walking on eggshells.
‘He blamed me for starting the arguments, for making him hit me. I started to believe him, asking myself “If I was prettier? Slimmer? Wore more make-up? Less make-up? If I was a better cook, a better mother?”’
‘He told me he wanted me to love him, to be more sexual with him, and to always be available to meet his sexual demands even when I didn’t want to. He told me it’s my duty to him to meet his needs, I owe it to him.’
Annie didn’t just have herself to worry about in this relationship; the needs and safety of her children were also of paramount importance.
‘Attempting to protect my already bruised body from further blows, desperate to protect my face so the children won’t see the marks, trying to bring down the swelling from my disfigured face so I could look somewhat normal. dreading the next morning when I would have to face the world again, face the other mothers at the school gates, face my workmates.
‘We hear it all the time, speak out, talk to someone. I say it’s not that simple; it’s so hard to reach out and share your experiences, to speak out, especially when you’ve been brainwashed into thinking no one will ever believe your story.
‘The question, “Why doesn’t she leave if it’s so bad?” should be changed to “Why does he abuse her and how can we protect her and her children?”’
Having escaped her abuser, Annie is now using her experiences to help others, and she offered a ray of hope to those who feel trapped in an unhappy relationship.
‘My advice as a survivor is don’t be afraid to seek help, to swallow your pride. It’s the biggest step you will ever take and will be life-changing for you and your children.
‘Everyone has a right to live with dignity and respect in their own homes, free from fear and harm. No matter what anyone says to you, never believe it’s your fault. The fault lies directly with the abuser; it’s his behaviour, it’s his fault, his choice.
‘You need time to heal the hurt and the scars but over time you will begin to feel like yourself again. I remember being so desperate, so confused, in need of so much support. If I had known about Wexford Women’s Refuge and Women’s Aid I believe with their support
I could have gotten out of my relationship earlier.
‘But I can hold my head up high, I’m not a victim for sharing my story, I’m a survivor, setting the world on fire with my truth.’
Gráinne (not her real name) began by reminding those in attendance that domestic violence and domestic abuse knows no boundaries and can happen to anyone, regardless of their age, education or social status. Yet it’s only when she reflects upon her abuse that she fully understands its extent.
‘I arrived at the Refuge in a state of total desperation, confused and broken with little or no sense of my own identity. I didn’t realise the magnitude of the abuse, nor the extent of how the abuse had entangled each and every part of my life, and the lives of my children.’
And she said that leaving, and not going back, is the most difficult part for any person suffering from coercive control.
‘On the day I finally left for good, himself came home from work and it started yet again; shouting and screaming and telling me how useless I am, how I’m no good for nothing and never will be, that I’m a waste of space and a waste of a life and no one will ever want me, that he was going to kill me. And I believed him, I knew he would.
‘When he went out to the yard a little while later that was my chance, I grabbed a little plastic bag and put a few bits in it. I had to get out fast. This is the most dangerous time for a woman, when she leaves and the following few weeks.’
Now free of her ex and in a happy, loving relationship, Gráinne credits her support network with her recovery, with helping her to move on from the past and start afresh.
‘The deepest scars are the ones you don’t see. Very often, these invisible wounds take the longest to heal. I could not have made this journey on my own. It’s easy to feel overwhelmed, confused by all the new challenges, but with the supports out there, the enormous support of family and friends new old, and of course of the continual support of Wexford Women’s Refuge, that journey is a little easier to travel.
‘Silence hides abuse. We deserve better. If I can do it anyone can.’