‘LOVE SHOULDN’T HURT’
Emma Cranston, 40, lives in Cheshire.
When I met George in 2012, he was charming and funny. He’d recently moved on to my street and after he helped me with my shopping bags one day, we became friends.
George, then 18, was younger than me, so I didn’t see him in a romantic way at first. I’d just been through a divorce and had two young children. But as we grew closer, I felt I could tell George anything.
We started dating in 2014 and we moved in together the year after. George was charming and loving, but behind closed doors, I saw another side to him.
After a night out with friends, George was drunk and started arguing with me over nothing. Before I knew it, he hit me on the torso. I was distraught and told him to leave. But George apologised and the next morning, as we talked about what happened, I started to believe it had all been my fault. He told me if I hadn’t argued back, he wouldn’t have hit me, and somehow, I believed him. I gave him a second chance.
For a while, things were great, George was caring and attentive, but every few weeks he’d lose his temper and it felt like I was walking on eggshells.
The next time he hit me, he told me I
wasn’t blameless and that I’d wound him up. So I stopped sticking up for myself.
George didn’t like me wearing make-up or nice clothes. Not wanting to fight, I’d give in and do as I was told. He had some sort of hold over me, and I started to feel like I relied on him so much that I couldn’t live without him.
George hated me speaking to other men, so I gave up my job in a call centre and when he told me he didn’t like my family and friends, I stopped seeing them.
My self-confidence was shattered and I was living in a constant state of fear.
Suffering in silence
So when, in December 2017, George flew into a rage and punched me in the ribs, I felt too scared and defeated to go to hospital or tell anyone – even though I was in agony.
Then, in February 2018, I asked George if I could go out with a friend, but he insisted on coming along. I was driving and wasn’t drinking alcohol, and when George started rowing with another man in the pub, I’d had enough, so we all left together.
In the car on the way home, I could sense his anger, so I turned the music up, but George saw red and punched the windscreen. Shaking, I drove back to our flat and we all went upstairs.
Later, I went back out to my car, but out of nowhere, George attacked me from behind, pulling my hair. As I fell to the ground, I lost consciousness as he kicked me in the sides, stomping on my chest and face.
Somehow, I came round and found the strength to scramble back inside my flat, but George continued his attack.
I was barely able to breathe, and each time I whimpered in pain, George threatened to kick me again.
My friend had witnessed some of the attack and tried to call the police but George took our phones.
As I was lying in the bedroom, covered in blood, my friend tried to look after me, but feared I was dying. Neighbours had heard the commotion and eventually police arrived and George was arrested.
My injuries were so severe that I was air-lifted to hospital. I had multiple broken ribs and a punctured lung. Doctors also found old healing fractures from earlier attacks. They said I was lucky to be alive.
I needed surgery to fit metal plates and pins into my back and ribs, and three ribs were completely rebuilt. I’d almost been killed but I refused to make a statement. Without it police had to let George go.
In February 2018, still in hospital, I hit breaking point and realised I couldn’t let him get away with what he’d done and finally plucked up the courage to report him. He was arrested later the same day.
In July 2018, at Chester Crown Court, George Arathoon, then 27, was convicted of assault occasioning actual bodily harm, inflicting grievous bodily harm and intimidation, and jailed for five years. He was also given a restraining order.
Afterwards, I set up a support group called Love Doesn’t Hurt, to reach out to other survivors, and trained in counselling and psychotherapy. I signed up for a programme run by Robert Hisee, which uses Unconscious Mind Therapy to rewire thoughts, feelings and emotions, which really helped me come to terms with what I’d been through.
In January 2022, Robert and I teamed up to support victims of domestic violence through recovery. Helping others, I’ve found, is a great way of helping myself.
My message is simple – if love hurts, walk away.