From Love to Terror: A Survivor's Journey Through Domestic Abuse
"I think about you more than you think about me," my ex-partner, Clive*, told me when I explained I wasn't going to cancel plans with my friends that evening. "I'd do anything for you," he continued. "I'd cancel my friends for you, I just want to spend all my time with you but you don't seem to want to do that with me." He laid the guilt on thick, and it worked – I bailed on my plans.
We had only been together a few weeks at that point and I thought the world of Clive. The last thing I wanted was to upset him, but something inside me felt uncomfortable. At first, he made me feel special, but the relationship went from loving to intrusive with alarming speed.
The Rapid Descent Into Control
We met through work. I had just emerged from a long-term relationship after discovering my partner had cheated, which left me emotionally vulnerable. My colleagues noticed I was struggling, and one day Clive asked if I'd like to have a drink with him. It felt kind and thoughtful, so I accepted.
From that initial meeting, our connection quickly developed into a full-blown relationship. Clive promised he'd never cheat like my ex, showering me with compliments and praise. He would call and message me constantly, and at the time it felt wonderful to be with a man who showed me so much affection. Looking back, I recognize how vulnerable I truly was.
Within a few months, Clive had moved into my house, and the constant messages began shedding any semblance of affection. Instead, they felt intrusive – if I didn't respond immediately, he would call repeatedly until I picked up.
The First Signs of Violence
One day Clive told me he was heartbroken that I still had photos of my ex on my phone, claiming it showed I wasn't "all in" with him the way he was with me. He insisted he wouldn't dream of keeping pictures of his ex and accused me of being in love with someone else.
Desperate not to upset him, I spent nine hours deleting those memories and created a brand new social media profile just to appease Clive. I sacrificed my own happiness to make him happy, a pattern that would define our relationship.
Approximately six months into our relationship, he first became physically violent. We'd been out for dinner and drinks at a local pub, returning home around midnight. Clive's phone kept ringing with a woman's name displayed. Without questioning who it was, I simply mentioned that someone was trying to reach him.
He brushed it off, but the ringing continued for another two hours. At 2 a.m., I suggested he should answer it. That comment sent him over the edge.
The Escalation of Abuse
He threw a drink in my face and dragged me off the bed. Panicked, I ran downstairs toward the front door, but he caught up and pushed me against the wall, pressing his hand across my face while screaming: "I'm not him, I won't cheat on you, how dare you doubt me!"
Eventually, Clive released me, and I ran to the living room, where he grabbed me again and threw me onto the sofa, continuing to scream. After a few minutes, he stopped suddenly, as if emerging from a trance and realizing what he had done.
Pacing the room in clear panic, Clive said he'd ruined everything and that I would never forgive him. Terrified and in shock, I did what felt safest – I told him it was okay. I softly patted his arm and suggested we return to bed, promising we could talk tomorrow. Externally calm, every part of me was filled with fear.
The next morning, with puppy dog eyes, Clive apologized. He claimed it happened because of how much he loved me. Looking back, I believe he was testing the waters – while he had physically hurt me, he hadn't technically hit me, which was probably how he justified his actions to himself.
The Turning Point After Motherhood
After that initial incident, the violence progressively worsened over the years, escalating from physical to sexual abuse. It resulted in serious injuries and even caused me to have a miscarriage.
When I eventually gave birth to my daughter, Annie*, something fundamental changed within me. I vowed to do whatever necessary to protect this baby. After returning home from the hospital, it took Clive just eight weeks to attack me in our home – this time, I dialed 999 for the first time.
Seeking Safety and Legal Protection
He initially fled, but when he returned, I made it clear our relationship was over – I would never let Annie be put in danger. Because I had contacted the police, social services were alerted, and we had a profoundly impactful conversation. Finally, I felt heard and was connected with a domestic violence worker.
I also revealed the truth to my family after hiding everything from them for so long. The two years following our breakup were harrowing – worse than any part of my relationship with Clive. He moved out, but my mental health suffered severely.
He requested continued access to Annie, so I followed all recommended procedures. I organized carefully timed visits in public places with people always present, usually dictated by Annie's sleep routine since she was still very young. However, in his ongoing effort to control me, he would cancel at the last minute, fail to show up, and then arrive unannounced at all hours, demanding to see her, which took an enormous emotional toll.
The Legal Battle for Protection
Constant texts and phone calls – sometimes hundreds in a single day – continued while I desperately navigated the family court system, about which I had no prior knowledge. Clive repeatedly failed to maintain consistent involvement in Annie's life.
Since he was listed on her birth certificate, I had to file for a non-molestation order to stop him from harassing and stalking me. This process took months, as each order was only valid for six months. Finally, after eighteen months of legal back-and-forth, a judge granted me a non-contact order. Now, Clive cannot see Annie or contact her in any way.
Not long afterward, the Police Victim's Unit informed me that the Crown Prosecution Service was taking a criminal case against Clive to court. Through Clare's Law – which allows individuals to check if someone has a history of violence or domestic abuse – I discovered I wasn't the first person Clive had abused; there were at least two other women before me.
The Importance of Reporting Abuse
Both previous cases had fallen through, one due to lack of evidence, but the CPS pleaded with me to proceed. I realized then how crucial reporting violence truly is. It meant that if any woman searched Clive in the future, information about what he did to me would be available. I ultimately secured a conviction against him.
It's now approaching nine years since I left, and part of me knows I will never fully recover. It took until last year to understand the shame I carried and accept that healing is a long journey ahead.
The Path to Healing and Awareness
Mental health services have been invaluable. I remain on the medication they prescribed, and I've discovered that time is a powerful healer. Education has also proven essential. I recall my domestic violence worker showing me the diagram of the cycle of abuse, which breaks abusive relationships into four stages:
- Tension building
- A violent incident
- Reconciliation
- A period of calm
I couldn't believe what I was seeing – it felt like someone had mapped my life onto that piece of paper.
Working with Refuge has provided tremendous support, as has finally being open with loved ones. I no longer have to wear a mask, pretending everything is fine.
If you're experiencing domestic abuse, I urge you to tell someone – a friend, family member, a charity like Refuge, or your employer – anyone you trust who genuinely feels safe.
*Names have been changed to protect identities.
