See What You Made Me Do: Power, Control and Domestic Abuse

by Jess Hill

‘You must get so frustrated when you think a woman’s ready to leave and then she decides to go back,’ I say. ‘No,’ replies one phone counsellor pointedly. ‘I’m frustrated that even though he promised to stop, he chose to abuse her again.’

We talk a lot about the danger of dark alleys, but the truth is that in every country around the world the home is the most dangerous place for a woman. Of the 87,000 women killed globally in 2017, more than a third (30,000) were killed by an intimate partner, and another 20,000 by a family member.1 Every week across England and Wales, two women are killed by a man they’ve been intimate with;2 and in 2019 the number of domestic homicides increased by a shocking 27 per cent compared to 2018.

For friends and family—especially those who’ve never experienced domestic abuse—none of this makes sense. It doesn’t make sense that women who are smart and independent will stay with a man who treats them like dirt. It doesn’t make sense that even after fleeing, a woman will often return to her abuser—even plead for him to take her back. It doesn’t make sense that someone known as a good bloke could be going home to hold a knife to his wife’s throat. If we were to think about his actions as much as we think about hers, it would make even less sense that a man who inflicts abuse on his partner would want to stay—or even kill her after she leaves. Why does he stay?

What should surprise us about domestic abuse is not that a woman can take a long time to leave, but that she has the mental fortitude to survive. * * *

But think back to the times you forgave a lover for wronging you, or trusted them against your better judgement. To do that, you had to believe that the better part of them—the part you were in love with—was dominant, and their wrongdoing an aberration. Maybe you did break up with them, but got drawn back by their pleading and promises, or simply because you missed them. Maybe you were right to trust them; maybe you weren’t. It’s the same for victims of domestic abuse. The only difference is, their perspective isn’t just obscured by love and sexual attraction. It’s been scrambled by the forces of degradation and coercion.

‘Don’t you know that leaving is the most dangerous time for a woman?’

Why does he stay? Why do these men, who seem to have so much hatred for their partners, not only stay, but do everything they can to stop their partner from leaving? Why do they even do it in the first place?

I want people to stop asking ‘why does she stay’ and start asking ‘why does he do that?’

‘Disrespecting women does not always result in violence against women. But all violence against women begins with disrespecting women.’31

There’s an oft-quoted phrase from the novelist Margaret Atwood that made me look at the abusive mind with fresh eyes: ‘Men are afraid women will laugh at them, and women are afraid men will kill them.’

Modern culture has women walking a tightrope—be sexy but not too sexy, be smart but not intimidating, assertive but not pushy, and on it goes.

No To Violence, explains that abusive men commonly cite their duty to protect as the reason for their abuse.

the fact that in the moments before a man takes control, he can feel at his most vulnerable and powerless,

Shame is felt by all genders. In fact, women have it drummed into them that their very womanhood is a shameful thing. Shame is something many women spend their lives trying to overcome.

‘but the truth is I had absolutely no idea what women faced. No idea what it was like to feel afraid walking to my car, or jogging at night; to be pressed against on a crowded train; to be ignored or talked over repeatedly; to know that my value at work was often predicated on my sexual attractiveness to my boss. No idea what it was like to have someone indecently expose themselves to me; to have to devise strategies each day, often unconsciously, to just feel safe.’

In England, around 830,000 children are living in households that have reported domestic abuse,1 and 130,000 children and young people in the UK are estimated to be in households that are high-risk.

For some families, leaving the abuser can be the end of one ordeal and the beginning of another.

As we’ve seen, leaving is the most dangerous time for a woman—the Femicide Census report of 2018 found that 41 per cent of women killed in the UK by a current or former partner had left or taken steps to leave, with 30 per cent of them killed within the first month and 70 per cent within the first year of separation.

Most importantly, they don’t make their protection contingent on the woman’s willingness to leave, or even cooperate: their first priority is to do whatever they can to make sure that the woman is safe, even if she tries to resist.

Victims need police to accept that they may not be what police want them to be: the damsel in distress willing to do whatever police say. They have complicated links to the perpetrator, and have to weigh each action against his reaction;

women will leave eventually, probably, but they may not be ready today. So how do you make them safe?

If the perpetrator is hellbent on maintaining control, they don’t need the victim in physical proximity: they can control them through the system. The courts, child support, social security, a rental tribunal—these can all become another weapon in their armoury.

British laws regulating domestic abuse were designed to protect marriage, not women.