It's Good to Talk

When I first began writing about Men’s Issues I adopted a non de plume, Si Victim.   This pseudonym was short for Silent Victim which reflected the way I had felt about enduring over 17 years of Domestic Abuse.

As a battered husband, I had nowhere to turn nor was there anyone I could speak to because wives just weren’t capable of attacking their partners.  It was unheard of!  I knew of no other man in my position.  Remaining silent effected every area of my life and everyday I remain on this earth, so to will the consequences of those years.

Having finally left the situation, I began rebuilding my life.  I discover that what had happened to me wasn’t as rare as I’d thought.  In fact, it was far more common than society would have you believe.  According to the latest figures from the British Crime Survey, out of every five Domestic Violence victims, two will be men.  Even more startling is the revelation that this is not a new development; Academic research over the last 40 years has consistently produced similar figures.

And yet, government funding for Domestic Abuse programmes has ignored the data choosing instead to bankroll the Feminist myth that all domestic violence assaults are due to male privilege. 

At least now, there is an acceptance among most Domestic Abuse service providers that men are affected by DV and they may now offer a ‘token’ service to Male Victims. Take, for example, this recent experience of mine.  I telephoned a local, well-advertised Domestic Abuse helpline.  On their publicity, there was no statement identifying that it was a gender-specific service.  Admittedly the cartoon of a cowering woman that accompanied the phone number would infer that it was. 

The first time I called, I went to voicemail and was asked to leave my name and number and an advisor would call me back.  I found this quite insensitive as most callers would be fearful about their personal safety and wouldn’t want to leave such details when their abuser could potentially intercept the call.  Minutes later, I tried again.  This time my call was answered.  I gave a brief summary of my story to be greeted with, “ We don’t deal with men, we only talk with women that are being abused by men.  I will have to refer you elsewhere.”

After holding on the line, I was given two telephone numbers: The Mankind Initiative 01823 334244 and the Men’s Advice Line  0808 802 4040.

No doubt about it had I been female, all manner of support would have been offered to me.

In November 2010, the Home Office published the strategy paper, ‘Call to end violence against women and girls’, setting out its approach for tackling domestic violence over the Parliament. This included £28 million funding for domestic violence support services.

That’s right £ 28,000,000 funding and all men really have are telephone helplines.

I have been speaking to many people (Councillors, Police & Crime Commissioners, Police Officers, Domestic Violence Prevention Officers etc) challenging this.  I keep hearing the same things:

“We know that men are victims too but…”

“Very few men engage with us.”

“You’re one of the few male victims prepared to talk about your experience.”

Having spoken at length on the lack of provision for services to men, I have come to the conclusion service aren’t provided for men because men don’t  speak out about their issues or seek the support/help they require/need.  This applies not just to Domestic Violence, but right across the spectrum of all men’s issues (such as health, education). 

On the whole, men don’t talk about their problems.  However, by remaining silent and not identifying our suffering, those areas which require service provision go unchallenged and are not addressed properly.

How can we change things?  A starting point is changing perception as to what it means to be a man.  When I look back at my childhood, we heard things like “Boys don’t cry” “Be a big, brave boy for mummy,” “Be a Man”  Such statements ‘encouraged’ us that we had to be tough, we couldn’t show any emotion because that was a sign of weakness, that we dealt with our own problems. 

We take these lessons into adulthood.  Men get mocked for suffering from Man Flu and yet, are very reluctant to visit their Doctors.  A visit to the GP’s surgery for a man is probably out of necessity.  Often, when asked by the GP why they have asked for an appointment, a man will reply, “It’s probably nothing but…” or “ I don’t mean to waste your time but my wife said I should get this checked out.” and then they discover that had they sought an earlier diagnosis, they would have been able for a better chance of recovery.

It’s good to talk and the sooner men learn to talk about the issues that affect us, the better services to men will become. Our inability to address our anxieties results in funding and services going elsewhere. 

Male Victim Event Day at University of Central Lancashire

It was a real privilege to be asked to speak at the recent Male Victim Event Day organised by the University of Central Lancashire  (Preston, UK) and I was thrilled to be included alongside people who are making a real global difference in changing public perception about Domestic Violence.”

The keynote speaker was Dr Denise Hines of  Clark University, Massachusetts.   Dr Hines is the Principal Investigator on a series of studies investigating the physical and mental health of men who sustain partner violence from their female partners and seek help. The most recent of these studies also investigates the mental and physical health of child witnesses and is being supported by a grant from the National Institute on Child Health and Human Development (USA).  About two years ago, I discovered the work of Dr. Hines, emailed her and she kindly put me in touch with some UK academics who were involved with her in an international research project.  It was though the follow-up contact with Dr Louise Dixon and Dr. Niki Graham-Kevan that I was invited to speak. 

Another speaker was Ian McNicholl whose ex-girlfriend was imprisoned for seven years for grievous bodily harm for the injuries she inflicted on Mr McNicholl.  Ian McNicholl  was involved  in the development of the Coronation Street storyline featuring Tyrone Dobbs and gave the soap a great insight into male victims of domestic violence.  Again, the Coronation Street storyline has brought great help to many people and I was honoured to stand alongside both Dr Hines and Ian McNicholl.

Also on the schedule of speakers were: Margaret Gardner (Director of False Allegations Support Organisation), Valerie Wise (Chief Executive Preston Domestic Violence Services)  and Nick Smithers ( National Development Officer Abused Men in Scotland)

Attached Photograph.  L-R Ian Young, Margaret Gardner (Director of False Allegations Support Organisation), Valerie Wise (Chief Executive Preston Domestic Violence Services), Dr Niki Graham-Kevan ( Reader, University of Central Lancashire), Ian McNicholl (ManKind Initiative Patron), Nick Smithers ( National Development Officer Abused Men in Scotland) and Dr Denise Hines.

This is a transcription of my speech

I’m a survivor of female perpetrated Domestic Abuse which has severely impacted me and my children.  It took place during the course of my marriage which lasted 17 years.  Today would have been my 21^st wedding anniversary.  While it was happening, I felt that I had nowhere to turn nor could I speak to anyone about it.  I felt so alone.  It affected every area of my well-being.  When I finally was able to come out of the marriage, it was at great personal cost.  As part of my own healing, I began writing and blogging about my experience and was overwhelmed by others contacting me to say that they were in similar situations and felt so isolated.  This motivated me to campaign to raise greater awareness about Domestic Violence and how it affects men in particular. 

How the abuse started

1992 was a momentous year for me.  I got ordained as a church minister and six months after ordination, I got married.  Just before our wedding, my ex-wifes mother died,  Her  Father had died when she was 7.  She never spoke about her childhood.  There were a few things she told me that were lies, and had I known that then, it might have changed  the course of our relationship. However, I was in an environment where you believed or wanted to believe everything was true.

I saw no  worrying behavioural traits when we were courting, but once we married things changed.  The first strange thing I remember was an over-reaction to me pouring a glass of cola.  I hadn’t rinsed the glass properly, and soap suds were still in the glass causing the cola to fizz up uncontrollable.  She started shouting uncontrollably at me, calling me names and all sorts.  I remember thinking , what’s your problem its only a drink.  On its own, that probably sounds silly but other  patterns started to emerge.   Prior to going into the ministry, I worked in the city of London in the banking sector and the one luxury I allowed myself was having an expensive aftershave collection.  One day, without any provocation,  she poured all my aftershaves down the sink.  She also began smashing ornaments of sentiment value and something that she would repeat for years, she would pour cups of hot drinks I made over me and would  smash a dinner plate (with the dinner still on it ) over my head.

The excuses I made

My ex-wife wouldn’t seek any sort of help.  She wouldn’t even take a headache pill.  I’m not sure whether she even recognised she had a problem.  In my mind, I made excuses for her.  I told myself that she was grieving and this was her way of coping.  I didn’t recognise what was happening to me as Domestic Abuse.  I equated it with the ‘worst’ part of the ‘for better for worst, in sickness and in health’ wedding vows I made.  And then the children arrived, our first daughter was born in 1995, our second daughter in 1997 and our son in 1999.  Her violent behaviour continued towards me.   As well as making excuses about the bereavement, I added Post natal depression to my rationale .  In 2000, my ex-wife only sister died quite suddenly and this left her with no immediate family.   Around this period of time, I recall overhearing my bishop ( who was the person I should to with any problems) joking with a colleague about another couple where the wife was quite a dominant character and the husband appeared hen-packed.  Again, I remember thinking ‘There’s no way I can come to you and speak about the abuse I was experiencing because you clearly have no understanding and would treat it as a joke.’  Around this time, was the only time my ex-wife inflicted me  injuries that were visible.   I can’t remember the how, but I ended up with 2 long scratch marks on my face where the skin had been broken.  People probably knew that that’s what they were but no-one said anything.  I was asked what had happened, and I told people that I’d walked into a rose bush.  I also learnt that while my ex-wife was in an aggressive mood, there was nothing I could do that would placate it.  I never once retaliated.   In the early days, I would try and argue back but this just further ignited her anger.  And so, I just absorbed it and waited until her anger had burnt out.  Once it did and she was calm, I would try and challenge her behaviour saying that it was completely unreasonable.  I always got one of two responses:  either denial to what had just happen or she’d say, “you’re a man, you can cope with it.”  The children witnessed much of this, and afterwards I would also say to the children, “Your mum’s not well, but she doesn’t realise how ill she is, we all just have to try harder to help her.”

Why did I stay

So why did I stay?  First of all, I took my marriage vows seriously.   I was in a culture where divorce was frowned upon  and it would also become hard for me to remain a minister as a divorcee.  At that point in time, the church was my life’s vocation.  And then the children arrived.  The thought of being separated from my children was my biggest fear .  My ex-wife never showed any physical aggression towards the children, although she was very verbally aggressive toward our eldest daughter in particular.  While I was there, I felt that I was also protecting the children.  I felt I could leave.   No one would help me even if I said that I was a victim of DV.  I was unaware of any refuges for men – I was even unaware that men could be victims of DV, how could I explain that to anyone.  I also had nowhere to go nor any means of starting again.  My salary as a church minister wasn’t great and the house I lived in belonged to the church.  She also wanted a lifestyle that we couldn’t really afford.  But appeasing her and trying to avoid anything that might lead to an explosion  was all I was bothered about.   And so, to that end, I over claimed on my expenses from the church to pay for the treats she wanted. 

The realisation

In 2009, I was reaching breaking point and I started keeping a journal of the abuse I was experiencing.  As well as the current stuff, I wrote down the abuse that I could remember.  It shocked me as I read it back as I realised that there was a lot of stuff that had occurred that I’d forgotten.  It also hit me that my account sounded so horrific it was hard to believe, and yet it was my reality.  I’d run out of making excuses and was in a poor state, mentally , physically and emotionally.  There was also an incident with my son who was then 9 years old that helped me realise I was kidding myself.  There been another violent episode  during the week where two dinner plates (containing fish and chips) had been smashed over my head .  This happened in front of the children.  On the Sunday, after our meal, I was in the Kitchen washing the dishes and my son brought his plate through and then proceeded to throw his left-overs at me.  While I never reacted to my ex-wife doing this, I did to my son shouting at him and telling him off.   There was a look of total confusion on his face and it dawned on me that he was copying his mother’s behaviour thinking that it was acceptable behaviour.  Was I really protecting my children?  My ex-wife started another type of episode around this time.  One day , we were sitting watching TV, and she just announced , I don’t want you here anymore. ‘ She turned violent towards me  and my safest option was to retreat and sit in my car.  She won’t let me back in the house.  So eventually, I drove to my parents’ house who now only lived 4 miles away.  It was the first time I acknowledged that things were bad although I didn’t tell them everything.  They tried to persuade me to stay the night at theirs.  I felt I couldn’t so I went back home but my ex wouldn’t let me back in the house.  I returned to my parents.  The next day , I returned home.. “you’re back then” she said and then behaved as if nothing had happened.  Three months later, she acted in a similar manner, but this time she also threw my clothes and personal belongings out of the front door.  I think she believed that I would return the following day and we would all pretend that it had never happened.  I didn’t.  This time, I knew I just couldn’t go back.

The aftermath

I went to my parents.  This time I showed them my journal.  They were horrified,  I ended up  sleeping on their sofa for 6-7 weeks.   I tried to stay working as a minister.  Despite being presented with evidence of DV, they wanted to sweep it all under the carpet.  I still have a letter where senior leadership ‘strongly urged me to return to the family home and resolve the difficult issues in our marriage.’  Eventually, my own financial malpractice came to light – I held my hands up, resigned as a minister and paid the church back the money they claimed was missing.    They still took legal action and I ended up receiving a police caution which tends to deter prospective employers from taking me on.  The children’s well-being was my only concern now.  I found a house to rent nearby their school.  My 3 children had had enough to cope with so I didn’t want to put any additional pressure on them.  My two daughters needed to escape and came and live with me.  My son stayed with his mum.  I think he feels guilty about everyone else leaving .  I do worry about the ongoing impact on him, all I can do is to try and be there. 

Being a victim of DV resulted in me losing my life’s vocation, my home, many of former friends. The one thing I fought not to lose was my children.  They are all I was left with.  Now, my life’s vocation is speaking out and trying to raise better awareness about DV and the impact it has on us men and our children.

Ian's DV awareness campaign @SiVictim

http://thesilenceofdomesticviolence.blogspot.co.uk/

The Men's Room - A support group for men affected by DV

www.facebook.com/groups/mensroommDVUK/

The Impact of a Father leaving his Children Part 2

Elsewhere I already described my middle child as very similar to me in temperament and very placid.  I didn’t really notice the impact on her while I was still living in the family home although it affected her like everyone else.  The eldest child was always being criticised by her mother and was constantly verbally assaulted.  The youngest child had similar behavioural issues to his mother.  I guess the middle child felt caught in the middle and tried to make the best of a bad situation.

It was when I had been relocated in a house several miles away from the children that I saw how witnessing Domestic Violence had affected her.

This child had an exceptional school attendance record never missing a day from school.  She started developing headaches and cramps that were affecting her school attendance.

All three children had stayed with me for the weekend and we had a good happy time together.  A few days later I called unannounced at the children’s home to drop something off to them.  I was shocked at the change in the physical appearance of my middle child.  How she could change so drastically in just a few days deeply concerned me.  

I also knew that she couldn’t talk to me when I telephoned them for I knew that their mother was always standing by them and listening to the call when I phoned.  When the children were being very guarded and mono-syllable in their responses I knew that their mother was close by.  The children would confirm this for me.  Disturbed by the poor health of my daughter I managed to communicate by Facebook.  We had the following text conversation which I share with her permission:

Hi ,

I'm worried about you and want you to know that you can talk to me at anytime. I realise it may be hard when XXXXXXX and xxxxxxxxx are around, or when your Mum is listening over the phone. It does concern me that you seem to cope ok when you are with me at the weekend, but looked so ill yesterday. Anything you type won't go any further, and it may help if you feel you have to bottle things up to protect every one.

Love you lots

Dad xx

o    I think I am just stressed out, I enjoy things more with you but at mums house It just stresses me out. I really want to live with you. love you two xx

·        

o    I'd love to have you all here all the time - the only thing that worrries me about that is the upheaval of changing school.

Love you xx

·        

o    yeah I know :/ ,
how far Is xxxxxxxxx to  xxxxxxxxxx?

·        

o    13 miles...20-30 minutes by car - we could work something out. Does your mum know you're stressed?

·        

o    no she doesn't

·        

o    it might help if you can say that to the doctor's without your mum knowing -- does mum leave you alone with the doctor?

·        

o    nope she sits there with me, I could tell student reception maybe?

·        

o    it would probably help you if you could talk to someone other than me or mum, ideally perhaps asking to see the doctor alone?

·        

o    you know what shes like, she won't let me talk to the doctor alone

·        

o    how does student reception work?

·        

o    well miss xxxxx says I can talk to her anytime about anything

·        

o    it might be a good idea to talk to her as soon as you can. The only thing i don't want to happen is for your schooling to be affected

·        

o    I will talk to her tomorrow

·        

o    Tell her she can contact me anytime. I want the best for you all

·        

o    Ok I will, I know you do but it won't help my school work at all if I'm stressed all the time

·        

o    Someone (whether me or the school) needs to tell your mum she's stressing you out and it's affecting your schoolwork..

Perhaps it might help you to think of all the different ways in which she's stressing you out and list them

·        

o    Its everything really, but recently it been the fact that she thinks I was skiving and I can't believe she would think that little of me, you know that I am not the type of person to miss school, so she obviously don't know me as well as I thought

·        

o    It breaks my heart xxxxxx, we have three amazing children and I'm so proud of all you and how you're coped with everything. I didn't want to leave when I did, but was given no choice. You need to say all this to Miss xxxxxxxx and whatever happens, I'm always here for you. If it means moving in with me, we will work it out so that school is unaffected.

I will speak to your Mum if you want me too, but she may just think I'm trying to cause trouble so it may be best from school..You know how she re-acted when i tried to speak to her about xxxxxxxx

·        

o    no its probably best if you don't tell her, I know you didn't want to leave but I know you had to, If I move in with you then I will maybe just have to wake up a bit earlier, That is the thing I love  school (sounds weird) but its the best school I have been to, you can guess that from my levels and stuff, I am going to tell miss xxxxxx tomorrow and I will tell you how it goes around this time

·        

o    I don't want you to leave that school  either...if you end up living here, I'll make sure you still get to school..

I love you so much, I think you're totally amazing and I'm really proud of you. xxxx

·        

o    thanks I love you too,
I'm going now so I will tell you what happens tomorrow
bye xx

·        

o    Bye and be brave

Love you xxx

·        

hi,
I tried to tell miss xxxxxx that I am stressed but she said I need a letter from my parents for some reason, so do you think you can write one and give it to me at the weekend on the quiet?
xx

·        

o    Hi xxxxxx Of course I can

Love you lots xxxx

o    hi xxxxxxx Missing you. School phoned me today, really glad you're able to talk to them. I love you lots and will always be here for you. I'm really proud of you, you are an exceptional young lady.

Keep smiling,

o    yeah did they tell you what they said to me;
they said they were going to phone you,
email my teachers so they can keep an eye on me,
contact the school nurse about my stomach pains and,
a school counselor is in for one day so they put me on the list so I can talk to her,
I was waiting for ages for the lady to come and talk to me but the only reason she did on Friday was because my friend xxxxxxxx went to her without me knowing and ask if she could come to me straight away because she could tell I needed to talk to someone, and that was nice of her, I am really lucky to have friends like her :)

It wasn’t too long after this that I left the church ministry, found a house near the school.  The eldest child came to live with me as described in part one of this blog.  A month later, my middle child telephoned me from a friend’s house distressed.   She’d reached breaking point and couldn’t cope with her home life anymore.  She’d made the excuse of going to see her friend.  Once she reached that safe haven, she’d decided that she couldn’t return. 

I went to collect her and asked her if her mother knew where she was.   She said no so I said I’d telephone her mother to let her know where she was and that she was safe.  

I made the call and said that I’d been asked to collect our middle child from her friend’s house as she was extremely distressed and upset.  Her mother said that they had had an argument.    I informed my ex-wife that our daughter was determined that she didn’t want to return there.  I then suggested that the best course of action would be to let our daughter stay with me overnight and then review the situation in the morning when tempers had subsided.  

My ex-wife seemed to agree to this approach, however just before midnight she telephoned me, asking me what was happening and when I said that we had agreed that our daughter was safer staying the night with me, she launched into an abusive tirade accusing me of kidnap and issuing all manner of threats against me.  I hung up the telephone because I didn’t need to listen to such rubbish and everything that could have been said rationally had been.  My daughter was safe and had made her choice, her mother knew where she was and there was nothing else that could be done at this point. 

Since moving in with me, this daughter has not experienced any more health issues and has excelled at school keeping minimum contact with her mother.

The impact of a Father leaving his children. Part 1

I didn’t know where I would live.  At this point, I was sleeping on my parent’s sofa.  I was extremely concerned about the safety and well-being of my children.  Although their mother had never been physically aggressive to them, my counsellor pointed out to me that they were now at risk because I wasn’t there to absorb the attacks of my ex-wife.  She was so concerned about their safety and well-being that she wrote to the church leadership expressing her professional concerns.   The church ignored the letter because they saw no risk. 

The church eventually offered me a house which they were about to sell to live in.  My ex-wife and myself were given 3 months compassion leave to try and reconcile the marriage.  This meant that with a roof over my head, the children could stay with me at weekends. 

The next school holiday came and I had the children stay with me over the first weekend of the recess.  The oldest child was very distressed and didn’t want to return back to her mother.  She felt that her mother had been picking on her unfairly and couldn’t cope with much more.  So on the Sunday night, I took the younger two children back and explained that our eldest child couldn’t face returning home because of the atmosphere.  She slept on my parent’s (her grandparents’) sofa for several nights.  However, she was missing her siblings terribly and they were missing her.  So for their sakes, she returned back to her mother explaining why she’d returned.  I hoped that this incident would empower my daughter but also make their mother realise how close she was to losing all her children.  Faced with such a threat, surely she would change her behaviour?

Every time I saw the children I would always ask how they were coping.  I remember asking my eldest daughter if her mother had shouted at her: “Yes Dad, but I deserved it, I was playing up,” was the answer I received.  

However, a very testing time came when my ex-wife decided to take the children away on holiday.  I received the following text from my eldest daughter:

14^th August 20xx 17.09

I can’t wait to come home she’s doing my head in x

I responded along the lines of try and stay calm.  Minutes later the next arrived.

14^th August 20xx 17:17

I can’t take it anymore she’s actually making me want to end my life before I end up killing her x

I was distraught as I didn’t know where they were specifically.  I knew where she had taken them in terms of the town, but had no idea where they were staying.  I felt so helpless.  Later, I received a text to say that the situation had calmed.

The next time, my ex-wife took the children away, there was another explosive moment between the eldest child and her.  They were staying for the weekend in London.  Again, I had no idea of the actual destination.  This time I received a telephone call from my daughter to say that they had left the hotel and were walking to the train station when her and her mother had verbally argued.  Her mother had left her alone in the street and gone off taking the younger children with her.  My daughter had tried texting and telephoning her mother, but mum was not answering either the texts or calls.  So my daughter was alone, on a London street not knowing where she was and was getting extremely concerned because a strange man was now trying to talk with her.   Eventually, my daughter managed to find her way back to the hotel and found that the rest of the family were already there in their rooms.

Once I left the church ministry, I eventually found a house to rent near the children and their school.  The eldest child and I spoke quite often about her moving in with me.   She showed a very mature attitude and while she wanted to, she recognised that if she moved out, both her younger sister and brother would also want to come which would effectively leave their mother with no family so she stayed.  However, it wasn’t before long that tensions rose again and she could take no more.   She actually gave her mother a week’s notice, informing her mother that she would move in with me the following weekend.  Rather than try and build bridges, her mother immediately took back off her the house key making my daughter feel even more that she was being forced out.

And so, Father and Daughter number one were re-united.

Should I stay or should I go?

This is a reflective piece of writing based on my ongoing thoughts.  I continued to stay in an abusive marriage for the sake of my children.  I didn’t want to be, nor could I be an absent father.  Nor in the early years did I know whether the physical assaults I experience would subsequently take place on my children.  In their young childhood, would they understand the reasons why I wasn’t living with them?  

These were questions I asked myself daily.  I couldn’t leave them.  Neither could I leave with them for I had nothing to fall back on.  If I walked out, I would lose my home and my job.  No agency would be interested in housing a man claiming domestic abuse.  Had I left with the children, no-one would question their safety or well-being and I would probably face police charges for child kidnap.  

So I stayed, but came up with an escape plan.  Once, the children had grown to independency I could leave and start living my life free from domestic violence.   Staying until then, I believed, would minimise the impact on them of living with Domestic Abuse and I would have protected them.

As it happened, my ex-wife eventually placed me in a situation when I choose not to go back to the family home.  That was, and will remain the hardest decision I will ever make in my life.

Did my staying until then minimise the impact of Domestic Violence on my children?  I don’t know.  I do know that it has affected them all in different ways and this troubles me. 

I have been reluctant in my blog to write too much about the children.   This was to protect their identity.  However, time has moved on and we are all living with the after-effects.  This is a summary of their story through my eyes.   I have two daughters and one son.  At the time of separation they were aged 15, 13 and 11. 

My eldest daughter was often on the receiving end of her mother’s vicious tongue.  This has caused her to be very sensitive to received comments and also very defensive.

The middle child was very placid in nature, trying to keep away from conflict and often would try and placate her mother.  She wrote for me the previous blog movingly explaining how the abuse affected her.

My son right from birth has had developmental issues.  Countless medical tests have been conducted on him right from birth until present day.  No diagnosis has ever been made although he does display symptoms in keeping with some of those on the autistic spectrum.  His gait and posture is very infantile and he displays frustration which quickly turns into vented anger when things don’t go right for him.  School has always been a struggle for him.

I have written elsewhere about my leaving the family home.   On the following Monday, my bishop had arranged a pastoral interview discussing the state of our marriage in the family home, first of all with my ex-wife and then I was asked to return for a joint meeting. 

My two daughters were still at school when I arrived.  My son was at home because his school hadn’t returned from their recess yet.  As I entered the house, I went straight to my son’s room where he was watching a film.  When he saw me, his response to me was very angry, shouting at me that I must pack my things and come home.  I was in tears and tried talking with him, trying to reassure him but he was in such a frenzy that he didn’t hear.  My bishop came up to try and calm my son down, telling him that he was loved and we were trying to sort everything out.

The girls were walking home from school and saw my car parked up so came running and screaming “Dad.”   I ran out to meet them and we embraced and cried.  No-one said anything, we just held each other for what seemed like eternity.  It was very heart-wrenching.

Although leaving the children was very distressing, once I’d broken the cycle of abuse I knew I couldn’t go back. Should I stay or should I go?   I went, there could be no going back.

A fearful silence

Part of an abusers armoury is their employment of emotional blackmail and constant belittling of the victim.  People looking from outside may wonder why one untrue spoken comment causes so much damage.  However it is not the sole innocuous word spoken in haste, but a constant barrage of depreciation wears the target down, who then starts to sink into low personal self-esteem and little confidence which then affects every area of their lives.

Abusers also use their environmental perception to further degrade their victim with comments such as  “No-one will believe you,” or “No one else would want you.”

My abuser would tell me every day in front of our children that she hated me.   This would be without any provocation and not even in the context of those barbed statements that are sometimes thrown in a verbal domestic exchange.   I stopped talking about our work (because part of our work load was shared), because she found fault with everything.  With hindsight, I probably stopped working to the best of my ability because I was just so tired of having to face a bombardment of insults concerning my labours.

Knowing that the slightest thing could trigger a violent assault from her, I completely withdrew into myself.  I put on a charade to hide the truth, but I wasn’t myself.  

I’ve already written that when challenged, my abusive ex-wife would respond with “You’re a Man, you can put up with it.”  She also resorted to emotional blackmail.  On a regular basis I would be told, “If you leave, I will destroy you completely,” and “I’ll take you for every penny”  That wasn’t hard since I didn’t have a penny to my name!

Being church ministers, our house was the property of the church (as was the car I drove).    She told me often that she could leave whenever she wanted because if she took the children, enough agencies would be willing to rehouse a single mother with three children.  She would also tell me that I couldn’t leave because I had nowhere to go and no-one would provide me with housing .

She was right, she knew it and exploited that fact.  She knew that, as a man, I was unlikely to tell anyone my fate at her hands.  She knew that there was no refuge resources for me. She knew that people would not and could not comprehend the level of abuse that I’d suffered.  She knew that people would assume I may be over-reacting to a simple fall-out. 

Men also remain silent because they know that it will be difficult to convince others that they are a victim of domestic abuse.  Sadly, the perpetrator usually exploits this knowledge to their own advantage increasing the psychological pressure on the victim.

The silence deepened.  I felt I had no choice.  As fear clouded over me, my mental and psychological well-being evaporated.   If you have followed my story, you will know that the point came after 17 long years when I choose not to go back into the abuse.  I escaped.  What happened?  

All the things I feared came true.  I did indeed have nowhere to go.  I ended up sleeping on my elderly parents’ sofa for 6 weeks.  Their bungalow wasn’t big enough to house me indefinitely.  Yes, there were many who though I was over-reacting to a simple fall-out.  Only it was far from simple and eventually the whole truth emerged.  

My fearful silence was over.  I won’t pretend it was easy. In fact, life which had been quite secure was now tough.  However, I’m a different person now.  The journey I’m on as a survivor is hard,  but I have regained my life.  No longer am I just existing from moment to moment, I’m learning to enjoy the moments living free of all fear.

Church

Church had been a huge part of my life.  I could not recall a time in my life when I had no association with the church.  I had been an adult member since the age of fourteen. The majority of my friends were connected to the church.  Senior churchmen had decided that I was no longer worthy of membership.  I knew of people that had been imprisoned and behaved immorally and still stayed members of the church.    All my life I had listened too sermons on the themes of compassion and forgiveness but these were virtues not to be found in many so-called Christians.

The only people who were told officially about my membership cancelation were the elders of the last church I ran.  Otherwise, it was left to me whether I divulged that information or not to others.

This meant that I could not attend services at any church in the same diocese because members of the congregation knew me and would want to know my story.  If I went and attended elsewhere, I would be invited to participate in the service.  This would then mean that I would have to explain that I no longer belonged to the church. 

I was soon informed of certain rumours that were circulating over my resignation.  Many within the diocese couldn’t understand why a minister of my calibre would quit without explanation.  Some were saying that the church I led had treated me abysmally and this was why I had left.  Readers of this blog will know that such gossip could not be further than the truth.  However, I hardly wanted the reasons I left to be known by all and sundry.   The last church I led was full of good, caring people (which sadly is a rarity in the church) and I didn’t want their good name tarnished over silly rumour. 

I felt the only way to stop this chitchat was to attend services although I wasn’t really emotionally ready to go back so soon.  I deliberately entered the church just as the service commenced finding a seat as close to the door as possible.  I could feel the tears streaming down my face as I found a place to sit.  That initial visit was very surreal as the last time I was in that church I had been conducting the Easter Sunday service from the pulpit.  It was like an out of body experience.  I was there physically but absence in every other sense.  I stayed in the church for most of the service but intentionally left as the benediction was being sung.   I couldn’t face speaking to anyone; I knew that it would be too much for me. 

I wanted to go to church but attending any church in my own denomination was too painful.  I was hesitating about trying another church because a visitor was easily recognised due the small sized congregations.  The last thing I needed was an over exuberant welcome and questions about my background.  I knew that such interest would be good natured and with the purpose of trying to attract a new church member by being friendly.    The last thing I wanted to do was to explain who I was because once I revealed I’d been a church minister, I could imagine that I’d be encouraged to volunteer for all sorts of activities.   I’d heard of a church that had over thousand people attend its services and this sound the sort of place where I could go to worship, but also hide in a crowd at the same time.

I attended periodically for a while but gradually the novelty wore off.  I still felt deeply hurt by the actions of some so-called Christians and the little faith that remained weakened.  Members of the last church I was the minister at, have kept in touch and have been a good source of encouragement.  However in the storms of life you soon learn who your true friends are.  At one time I thought that I had lots of friends within the church, but know I realise that they were nothing more than associates.  Shortly after my resignation I was standing immediately behind one minister in a supermarket queue and they completely ignored me.  Another minister emailed me and arranged to meet me for a chat.  I agreed and we made arrangements. “I understand things can be tough when you leave the church and I want to be a good friend to you,” he told me.  That was the last time he spoke to me and a few months later I went to a church service  he was leading, he walked straight past me blanking me.  So much for friendliness within the church.