Survivor Aliya* shares her experience of domestic abuse – physical, economic, coercive control and post-separation – and her journey to finding safety for her and her child.
My story starts when my dad was diagnosed with cancer. By the time he died, I was emotionally exhausted. My marriage collapsed due to my feelings of betrayal for the lack of support and neglect.
It was at this time I started a new job – the “show” had to go on and there was no time to grieve. This was where I met my next partner.
What followed was love bombing. He was everything my ex-husband was not: attentive, emotionally expressive, supportive. He appeared safe. I now understand this wasn’t love, it was strategy.
He also had children and presented himself as a devoted father with an “evil” ex-wife who restricted his access. I had no reason not to believe him.
Slowly, the abuse began to seep in.
Every special event – and later everyday life – became about him. Somehow, he was always wronged. Always the victim. Arguments were resurrected at moments that mattered most to me, ensuring no space remained untouched.
At work, he was measured and articulate. At home, he was volatile and cruel. The contrast made me doubt myself. His role at work was senior, and he spoke about protecting people every day. He told me I was “mental” for thinking he was abusive and everything he did was “normal”. I was a successful “independent” woman – I was not the “type” to be a victim of domestic abuse.
Our children got along, which made leaving feel even harder. I was in my thirties and wanted to have more. He used that by dangling promises, withdrawing them, reshaping them – always just out of reach.
When we moved in together, the refuge of “home” disappeared. I was subjected to relentless intimidation, manipulation and financial abuse. He pressured me to put his name on properties I had retained after my divorce. When I resisted, the campaign intensified: threats, love bombing, manipulation. Once his name was on the properties, he threatened financial ruin if I didn’t comply. I was trapped.
When he pursued further custody of his children, I read his ex-wife’s court statement. It mirrored my experiences almost verbatim. Even the insults were the same.
The abuse escalated. I was followed from room to room, screamed at, pushed, had objects thrown at me. I was prevented from leaving spaces, woken violently at night and exposed a tirade of abuse if I did not do as I was told. My finances collapsed as I paid for everything.
I began journaling, which allowed me to detach from the emotions. This ultimately gave me a realistic perspective about mine and my child’s safety.
Then came the day everything changed. This 40-something, six-foot-one man decided to swear and shout at my seven-year-old because they wanted to play with their toy when he had other ideas. This paled in comparison to what I endured, but I realised I could not keep my own child safe and they would become his next victim.
I contacted the police under Clare’s Law and left the house with my child, terrified. I gave a statement about my years of abuse. He was arrested and placed on bail. Support services stepped in.
But leaving didn’t end the abuse.
Post-separation abuse is brutal and rarely spoken about. He delivered it through solicitors, silence, obstruction and financial warfare. Thousands of pounds later, I was trapped in the games of a narcissist who thrived on control. He had done everything he promised he would do if I left.
He has frustrated the police investigation at every stage. This has delayed justice, but I still hope for it. Not because it will return what I lost, but because it would say, clearly, that no one gets to treat another human being like this and walk away untouched.
I have learned to let go of what I cannot control. Our life now is calm, joyful and, importantly, safe.
* Names have been changed to protect the survivor’s identity
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