Reese Witherspoon was on TV last week talking about her work with Avon’s Four Ways to Make a Change campaign.
1 in 4 women are dealing with domestic violence
2 women die every week at the hands of their partner or former partner
This got me thinking – how has domestic violence affected me?
In the work I’ve done as a psychotherapist I’ve had many clients who’ve had to deal with the issue to prove to me that a great many women have experienced domestic violence, and that it is much more insidious than I had realised – however, for obvious reasons, I’m not gong to discuss that any further.
I have not had to deal with it myself, but from a few comments my mother has made I think that she was brought up in a house where it was an issue.
When I was 16 I started my A-levels. I used the opportunity to get out of my country school and go to a college in a neighbouring city. I made new friends – some great, some not so great. One of the great ones was a woman who was a few years older than me. She was someone I met through other people, we didn’t share any classes but she had worked out in the real world for a few years and now had a determination to get the grades she needed to get to university. She studied hard, held down a job, and kept an active social life going. I’m guessing you can see why I admired her; as time went on that admiration turned to a deep and abiding friendship that I treasure to this day. She is funny, witty, rude, kind, compassionate, brave, and tells me the truth; simply thinking about her makes me smile. When I left home at 17 she helped me find a job and introduced me to city living and our friendship deepened again. It was then that I found out that she had once been the victim of domestic violence.
I was shocked to be honest – it didn’t seem to fit with the gutsy, take no-nonsense, woman I loved and admired. As she told me her story, not all at once, but a piece of information here, a word there, I began to see how it had happened.
Of course she was younger then and he was older – she was impressed by his age. That was uncomfortable to hear because I could see that happening all around me, heck I could see myself having done that! He was nice to her and to begin with his concern about her whereabouts looked like caring, not an attempt at control. The abuse really started long before he hit her – her friends, the places she went, what she told her parents all became things he influenced; a thousand small methods of control. She told me that the first time he hit her he had been so sorry, so apologetic, and so certain it would never happen again that she believed him. After a long period of abuse (long to a teenager perhaps if not an adult) it ended – not because anyone stopped him, or because she left him, but because he was sent to prison for something else altogether. My friend visited him in prison, wrote to him, stayed faithful, but her friends used his absence as an opportunity to remind her of their friendship and its’ joys. She saw how much her life had changed. She was reminded what it was like not having to worry about the violence she had endured yesterday, or might endure today, and how much better she felt not lying to her parents to hide the abuse from them (how she managed that I don’t know, she was still living with her parents when all this happened – I can only say it is a credit to her ingenuity but perhaps, just this once, I do wish she wasn’t quiet so clever.) Anyway, the time apart allowed her to see what her life really should be – safe, and this lead to her ending their relationship while he was still in prison.
It’s an old well-worn story – the detail, or at least the details I have, are not really that important here. What is important is that if a woman as smart and strong as my friend could be the target of domestic violence then I knew any woman could be. It’s an uncomfortable truth. Since then I have known too many women who have had to deal with the same difficulties, some did not escape, some did. But I always remember that first encounter and I remember how she escaped – because her friends were her friends and stepped up to the plate when they were needed, they saw an opportunity and made the most of it. In the end even making a cup of tea, or telling a story, can be a powerful feminist action – it can help change a life.
Please take the time to visit Avon’s Four Ways to Make a Change campaign.