Is emotional abuse as bad as physical?
The news reports today that Theresa May has launched a consultation on broadening the definition of domestic abuse to include ‘coercive control’. This isn't to be confused with a row, but where a partner repeatedly verbally and mentally abuses and controls their partner. This has caused mixed reactions in the media and public, with some people saying that it's an insult to physical abuse victims to class verbal abuse in the same boat as physical.
As someone who has experienced verbal abuse (and have never really blogged about it before owing to the fact that it's deeply personal and has taken me almost a decade to get over. Even now I worry about the repercussions of posting this online in case it causes unwanted attention or contact, but feel strongly enough to ensure that people recognise the warning signs that I'm still going to post this), the prospect of coercive control being recognised as a form of abuse is welcome. It could be argued that verbal abuse and control is the precursor to physical abuse (although not always) and recognising that it's NOT ok and it IS a form of abuse may save may women (and men) from staying in relationships that are extremely unhealthy.
So what is 'coercive control'? I can only give examples from my own experience, which I believe to be true demonstrations of an unhealthy and controlling relationship, with all of the warning signs of what could have developed into a physically abusive relationship. My first real relationship started off well. He was attentive, protective and affectionate. But what began as something good turned into something dark. At first, I loved the fact he would always drive me everywhere. If I visited friends, he would take me there and pick me up. But that turned into a way of controlling who I saw and when. He began to bad mouth my friends, saying they weren't real or deserving, and that I shouldn't see them. He would refuse to spend time with me when I saw them. The same happened with my family. He would refuse to come with me when I saw them, saying that they didn't make him welcome (which they didn't as they saw what he was doing to me), so I would go alone to family parties and gatherings. Then came the comments on my appearance. "Why are you wearing that, it makes you look fat", "why do you have so much makeup on. You look stupid". One day I spent hours getting ready for a party and when he saw me, he simply laughed and said I looked like a (his words not mine) "paki" because of the dress I was wearing. I was crushed. Even his brother and his girlfriend were shocked at how mean he was being. He began to even complain about m spending time with his brother and cousin's girlfriends, saying every time I did, they poisoned my mind and filled my head with stupid thoughts (mainly because they made me question just now nice he really was to me). Slowly, my confidence got chipped away. I wore baggy jumpers and jeans. He would constantly pick on my belly, saying I was fat. I would instantly grab cushions and hold them against my stomach when I sat down to hide my middle. It became an obsession with me and something about my body I hated, something which took me years to get over.
Then the comments got less underhanded and more blatant as my confidence sank. "You're so ugly and so annoying, if you leave me no one else would put up with you" was a favourite of his. I began to believe everything he said about me. Even though I was miserable, hated my self and and my relationship with him, I truly believed that there was nothing better out there for me and I clung to him even harder. I completely lost my sense of self. I stopped seeing my friends because it was easier not to see them and avoid the resulting rows. I saw my family even less for the same reason. If anyone asked me how things were going with him, I would never say well, for fear I would jinx the the few days that may have passed without a row. One time, he locked me in his room with him whilst we were rowing so I couldn't escape, and shouted non stop at me bashing away at my self confidence. Don't get me wrong, I didn't stand there trembling. Our rows were violent and I'd give as good as I got, to the point where we would throw things at each other. I would do everything I could think of to make him happy and avoid confrontation. The smallest mistake would result in a barrage of insults and slights on my intelligence and ability.
He was also extremely untrusting, always wanting to go through my phone and read all my text messages. If I had a pass code on my phone, he'd accuse me of hiding things from him and insist I show him my phone and it's contents. Yet he would never leave his phone in the room with me, and when he was on the PC he would lock the door to prevent me coming in. If I brought him up a cup of tea, I'd be accused of doing it to snoop on him and check what he was up to.
My 21st birthday was a disaster and I think the real warning of what was to come had we stayed together. We had a huge argument and he pinned me up to the wall by my throat. He went to punch me in the face and last minute changed his mind, punching the wall next to my head instead. He broke his hand. That was then my fault and I spent hours apologising for making him so angry. At my huge family birthday party, I lied to everyone who asked what happened to his plaster-cast hand, saying he'd called down the stairs.
The only reason I got out of this potentially dangerous relationship, after 5 years of verbal abuse, was when I discovered he was being unfaithful. Even then, when I found out (I came home at lunch time when he said he was out, to find him standing in the hallway just about to leave the house. I asked him when he was doing at home, closed the front door, and found another woman hiding behind it), I was so emotionally brainwashed, I believed him when he told me he wasn't and I was being paranoid. It took someone close to him to thankfully sit me down and tell me the truth because they thought I really needed to know and deserved better. When it finally sank in, I packed my bags, drove to my parents and moved back home. My mum didn't even say a word as I walked up the path as she tended the flower beds. I suspect she was just relieved I'd finally left.
Saying that verbal abuse isn't a form of domestic abuse is wrong. My 5 years of such an unhealthy relationship took me almost a decade to get over. For another 5 years afterwards, I was a mess. I was overly sensitive to any comment made on my appearance. I hated myself and my body. I became obsessed with my weight. I had no self confidence and craved companionship. I went from one relationship to another, unable to cope without a boyfriend as I felt I needed to be in a relationship to be happy, needing to rely on someone else. I truly believe it was only when I broke up with my last ex, that I actually felt GOOD. I broke up with him and thought "wow. You know what? I actually WANT to be single. I don't NEED someone. I'm strong enough to cope on my own". And as soon as I realised that, I met my husband!
So, I'm definitely seated in the yes camp, glad that verbal abuse (genuine, long-term, mentally controlling and damaging verbal abuse) is finally being recognised as a form of domestic abuse, and I hope that anyone who is experiencing it and may read this post, recognises it for what it is. He's not telling you you can't do better because he loves you. He's not telling you you're friends are rubbish and don't deserve you so you should cut them off because he loves you. He's not telling you to stop wearing high heels, skirts and makeup because you look beautiful without all that crap because he loves you. He's saying it to control you. Don't stand for it. Leave. Before it escalates to physical abuse.
For more information on verbal and mental abuse, how to recognise it and how to get support, visit www.womensaid.org.uk
EDIT: Mum and Dad, if you read this post (and I'm sure you knew most of this already even though I've never really discussed it with you), don't worry, I'm 100% happy and fine now! Without such bad experiences, you don't appreciate what is good. I'd maybe never have met and appreciated my wonderful husband without going through what I did, so every cloud has a silver lining!
As someone who has experienced verbal abuse (and have never really blogged about it before owing to the fact that it's deeply personal and has taken me almost a decade to get over. Even now I worry about the repercussions of posting this online in case it causes unwanted attention or contact, but feel strongly enough to ensure that people recognise the warning signs that I'm still going to post this), the prospect of coercive control being recognised as a form of abuse is welcome. It could be argued that verbal abuse and control is the precursor to physical abuse (although not always) and recognising that it's NOT ok and it IS a form of abuse may save may women (and men) from staying in relationships that are extremely unhealthy.
So what is 'coercive control'? I can only give examples from my own experience, which I believe to be true demonstrations of an unhealthy and controlling relationship, with all of the warning signs of what could have developed into a physically abusive relationship. My first real relationship started off well. He was attentive, protective and affectionate. But what began as something good turned into something dark. At first, I loved the fact he would always drive me everywhere. If I visited friends, he would take me there and pick me up. But that turned into a way of controlling who I saw and when. He began to bad mouth my friends, saying they weren't real or deserving, and that I shouldn't see them. He would refuse to spend time with me when I saw them. The same happened with my family. He would refuse to come with me when I saw them, saying that they didn't make him welcome (which they didn't as they saw what he was doing to me), so I would go alone to family parties and gatherings. Then came the comments on my appearance. "Why are you wearing that, it makes you look fat", "why do you have so much makeup on. You look stupid". One day I spent hours getting ready for a party and when he saw me, he simply laughed and said I looked like a (his words not mine) "paki" because of the dress I was wearing. I was crushed. Even his brother and his girlfriend were shocked at how mean he was being. He began to even complain about m spending time with his brother and cousin's girlfriends, saying every time I did, they poisoned my mind and filled my head with stupid thoughts (mainly because they made me question just now nice he really was to me). Slowly, my confidence got chipped away. I wore baggy jumpers and jeans. He would constantly pick on my belly, saying I was fat. I would instantly grab cushions and hold them against my stomach when I sat down to hide my middle. It became an obsession with me and something about my body I hated, something which took me years to get over.
Then the comments got less underhanded and more blatant as my confidence sank. "You're so ugly and so annoying, if you leave me no one else would put up with you" was a favourite of his. I began to believe everything he said about me. Even though I was miserable, hated my self and and my relationship with him, I truly believed that there was nothing better out there for me and I clung to him even harder. I completely lost my sense of self. I stopped seeing my friends because it was easier not to see them and avoid the resulting rows. I saw my family even less for the same reason. If anyone asked me how things were going with him, I would never say well, for fear I would jinx the the few days that may have passed without a row. One time, he locked me in his room with him whilst we were rowing so I couldn't escape, and shouted non stop at me bashing away at my self confidence. Don't get me wrong, I didn't stand there trembling. Our rows were violent and I'd give as good as I got, to the point where we would throw things at each other. I would do everything I could think of to make him happy and avoid confrontation. The smallest mistake would result in a barrage of insults and slights on my intelligence and ability.
He was also extremely untrusting, always wanting to go through my phone and read all my text messages. If I had a pass code on my phone, he'd accuse me of hiding things from him and insist I show him my phone and it's contents. Yet he would never leave his phone in the room with me, and when he was on the PC he would lock the door to prevent me coming in. If I brought him up a cup of tea, I'd be accused of doing it to snoop on him and check what he was up to.
My 21st birthday was a disaster and I think the real warning of what was to come had we stayed together. We had a huge argument and he pinned me up to the wall by my throat. He went to punch me in the face and last minute changed his mind, punching the wall next to my head instead. He broke his hand. That was then my fault and I spent hours apologising for making him so angry. At my huge family birthday party, I lied to everyone who asked what happened to his plaster-cast hand, saying he'd called down the stairs.
The only reason I got out of this potentially dangerous relationship, after 5 years of verbal abuse, was when I discovered he was being unfaithful. Even then, when I found out (I came home at lunch time when he said he was out, to find him standing in the hallway just about to leave the house. I asked him when he was doing at home, closed the front door, and found another woman hiding behind it), I was so emotionally brainwashed, I believed him when he told me he wasn't and I was being paranoid. It took someone close to him to thankfully sit me down and tell me the truth because they thought I really needed to know and deserved better. When it finally sank in, I packed my bags, drove to my parents and moved back home. My mum didn't even say a word as I walked up the path as she tended the flower beds. I suspect she was just relieved I'd finally left.
Saying that verbal abuse isn't a form of domestic abuse is wrong. My 5 years of such an unhealthy relationship took me almost a decade to get over. For another 5 years afterwards, I was a mess. I was overly sensitive to any comment made on my appearance. I hated myself and my body. I became obsessed with my weight. I had no self confidence and craved companionship. I went from one relationship to another, unable to cope without a boyfriend as I felt I needed to be in a relationship to be happy, needing to rely on someone else. I truly believe it was only when I broke up with my last ex, that I actually felt GOOD. I broke up with him and thought "wow. You know what? I actually WANT to be single. I don't NEED someone. I'm strong enough to cope on my own". And as soon as I realised that, I met my husband!
So, I'm definitely seated in the yes camp, glad that verbal abuse (genuine, long-term, mentally controlling and damaging verbal abuse) is finally being recognised as a form of domestic abuse, and I hope that anyone who is experiencing it and may read this post, recognises it for what it is. He's not telling you you can't do better because he loves you. He's not telling you you're friends are rubbish and don't deserve you so you should cut them off because he loves you. He's not telling you to stop wearing high heels, skirts and makeup because you look beautiful without all that crap because he loves you. He's saying it to control you. Don't stand for it. Leave. Before it escalates to physical abuse.
For more information on verbal and mental abuse, how to recognise it and how to get support, visit www.womensaid.org.uk
EDIT: Mum and Dad, if you read this post (and I'm sure you knew most of this already even though I've never really discussed it with you), don't worry, I'm 100% happy and fine now! Without such bad experiences, you don't appreciate what is good. I'd maybe never have met and appreciated my wonderful husband without going through what I did, so every cloud has a silver lining!
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