Honestly, I’m not sure how long this post will stay up but in light of the #metoo movement, I want people to know that they are not alone. A lot of people know, a lot of people have made assumptions and some people don’t know anything so it might come as a bit of a surprise to some. I can’t even remember the amount of stories I had to make up to cover up what can really only be described as embarrassment and fear of people not understanding or the ‘oh are you sure? Maybe you were drunk.” 

I can’t even say it was a relationship because for two years we were on and off. On in the sense that I was deeply ‘in love’ and off because he was having sex with everyone else. I have no idea why I stayed, maybe I thought that it’s hard enough to find ‘love’ and that we are constantly told that nobody is perfect so maybe this was just my unperfect. 

I remember the first time he laid his hands on me, something that was put down to we were arguing, he was tired. He didn’t mean it. He apologised. He bought me flowers. He apologised again. A hand grip on my bicep was easy to cover with a t-shirt down honestly at the time I didn’t think it would spiral down to where it ended. 

It gradually progressed over the next 6 months, and I would get flowers everything he either got angry and hit me or when he slept with someone else. Ironically, that he felt bad about. Not the court battle because he kept breaking his AVO’s, but having sex with someone else. To this day, Andrew doesn’t buy me flowers. I think after the first few freak outs of ‘what the fuck have you done wrong?’ he stopped buying me them. 

I think that until it become really obvious that something was happening that I wasn’t talking to people about, most people just ignored it. I would tell friends I was at work, I would tell people at work, I was at uni. Where was I? Generally at his, something that I didn’t want people to know because the fact eh used to treat me like shit without the abuse was something I wasn’t proud of and didn’t want people to know. Despite how bad he made me feel, and that I was constantly in tears wondering what I had done wrong and why he didn’t see me like that, I kept going back. Please don’t ask me why because I have no idea. I’m an idiot for staying as long as I did. 

When he slept with a friend, she didn’t know about us so while I was crushed, she didn’t know, I called it quits. I told him I was done and despite the hitting, the swearing and one very permanent scar on my hip that luckily underwear/bathers covers, this hurt more. He knew she was my friend and slept with her anyway. I didn’t hear from him for weeks and honestly thought it was done. Would you believe what was ‘done’ was the easy part?

Having brunch with friends is meant to be fun, take photos of your food, go on socials and have fun. Saying bye to some girls and walking back to my car after a brunch outing and he’s standing by car. Apologetic for everything that’s happened and wanting to talk. How did he find me there? A simple Facebook check in. Good for gloating about your life and making it easy for stalking to find you. He said it had popped up in feed and he saw me having fun and made him realise how much he missed me and that he wanted to talk. That should have been a red flag. Modern technology to stalk. But it wasn’t. We went for coffee, talked, he apologised, I believed him and before I knew it we were back in this, whatever the fuck it was. 

I thought I had the upper hand in this, I’d decided that I didn’t want to be exclusive, that we could whatever we wanted and I used that to advantage. I would see him is a girl, so I would kiss a guy thinking it would him realise what he was missing. For the most part, it worked. He’d see and suddenly he would be the sweetest and saying he loved me and didn’t want anyone else. It almost seemed good for a bit here. Well, that quickly escalated to just shit. 

The first time something bad happened, (let’s be real, this whole thing was bad) was a get out at a club. I have a habit of while drinking, disappearing. If I want to go home, I go. So for friends to lose me halfway through, it’s not that big of deal. They assume I’ve gone home. He found me in a club bathroom, high on ice and punched his hand into the mirror. Why? He was angry I was talking to a guy. A friend, who is dating one of my friends. I took him back to his house and cleaned up his hand and sat through his tears and apologies for acting this way and that he wasn’t really a violent guy, but I’d made him so mad that he acted stupidly and wouldn’t again. 

When I stopped answering his messages, he began showing up places I was. The supermarket, work, my house, friends houses. It was always a coincidence and 9 times out of 10 I would agree to meet him. I have no idea why I stay this cycle, of copping verbal if not physical abuse from someone who kept saying they loved me and constantly staying. Constantly going back, constantly giving him the benefit of the doubt. Surprisingly, saying to people you fell over, you were drunk, accident prone is an incredibly plausible explanation and most people just accept it. 

I’d tried to confide in some friends and most of them had the response of ‘oh you’re overreacting’ ‘are you sure that’s why happened, maybe you were drunk’ ‘he was drinking, I’m sure it was harmless’ and I began to doubt what was happening and began to think that maybe this was normal. Maybe this is just what dating is like, this whole romance thing is in movies and that’s it. 

I remember the moment I was out. I was out with girlfriends and had gone back with a smaller group to a house because after shots, that’s the great idea we all had. I bailed early and called him, drunk, lonely and wanting attention. He picked me up and took me back to his home where after making out, I said no. I wanted to go home. I was upset, sad, I just wanted to go home. No was not a word he had hurt before and didn’t take kindly to that. I can remember a fist coming towards me as I tilted up and then crying from him, apologising and saying what have I done. I left screaming, blood coming out my nose, my chin and and my lip. A bruise forming on my eye from what turned out to be a secondary, less strong punch. 

*the aftermath of saying no* 

I am beyond thankfully for the friend that answered that night. I’ve lost count of how many people I called that night and not surprisingly at 4 in the morning, most people don’t answer. He found me, crying on a corner sitting in blood. I didn’t want to have to come up with an excuse for the emergency room so we didn’t go. He took me home, cleaned up my face a bit and slept on my floor while I lay in my bed, crying over what had happened. Do you know what excuse I used to get out of this one? A simple, ‘ I was drunk and fell over’ wouldn’t have caused that injury, so I told people I was being piggy backed and fell off him. I never heard a follow up to that.

I was done, I cut all socials, stop replying to messages and cut out his friends so I could make a clean slate. He wasn’t happy with that and started showing up more and more places I was. He would wait outside work, he would wait outside my house, sit outside the supermarket I went to, every time apologising and every time having me asking him to leave me alone. I finished work late one night, alone, and found my car to have tire missing. He had hit. Standing there with a jack saying he would put it back on it if I talked to him. So I listened, let him out my tire back on, got in my car and drove to the police station. I was issued a 30 day interim AVO while they looked for evidence but honestly they couldn’t give a crap. When they asked why I didn’t come forward earlier, they seemed perplexed and seemed to have the ‘well, if you had said something earlier, we could have helped’ mentality. For 30 days, he stayed away. 

One day 31, he ‘accidentally” found me and back to the police I went. They said that unless I wanted to press charges, there was not much they could do. So I did. He didn’t argue the charges so he was enrolled in drug and alcohol counselling as he needed help more than anything. While attending counselling, he pulled a few b&e, drink driving charges and possession, he was handed a good behaviour bond. Quite frankly, that was shit. With 3 days left on his good behaviour bond, he bumped into me at a housewarming. He seemed to be doing well until he started screaming I had ruined his life and he could no longer do what we wanted to do because of me and spear tackled me through a glass window, separating my shoulder. Turns out the freckles I hated growing up, cover 99% of the scars and unless you really look you can’t see them. Police were called and charges were laid. 

By the time the trial started, which by day 2 he changes to plea to guilty, I just wanted this over. I was done hiding and done feeling ashamed for something that isn’t my fault. Can you believe my husband met me towards the end of all this, knew everything at the time and still wanted to date me? 

For all the the women and men who have faced abuse in their life, you are not alone. It scares me that this #metoo has taken off the way it has but I am so incredibly proud of everyone who is standing up and telling their stories. 

Much love,

J x