I didn’t consider my husband abusive – until a nurse asked this question

I arrived at hospital with a broken wrist and a black eye. As a nurse assessed my injuries, I was too afraid to tell her who had hurt me. 

But when she asked if it was my partner, I began to cry.

The police, social services and the charity Women’s Aid were called and they made it clear that my children and I couldn’t go home.

I protested, terrified of the repercussions from my husband, Paul*, but they weren’t going to send me back into danger. 

I was advised to go home and pack bags for me and my children so we could flee while Paul was at work. After this, I collected my children from school and fled to my parents’ house. 

That hospital visit was the start of my escape.

I met Paul online in 2012. He was charming; our connection felt instant. Six months after we met, I was pregnant – a shock to both of us.

There were early indications that he was controlling. He started criticising what I wore and ate, who my friends were. I was young and in love, and barely questioned it.

Soon, however, he was deliberately isolating me, making it increasingly difficult to spend time with friends and family.

Eventually, it felt like Paul was all I had. I was grateful that he ‘put up with me’.

He lost his temper over tiny things, slamming doors and punching walls, and it was somehow always my fault.

I wish I’d known then what counted as abuse. Under UK law, coercive control is a criminal offence that covers financial control, digital monitoring, emotional manipulation – all of which made me feel trapped long before physical violence began.

Paul said the way he treated me was my fault – and I believed him.

After our daughter was born in 2013, the abuse turned physical: he would grab, shove, poke and slap me. He’d snatch our daughter out of my arms and lock himself in the bedroom, knowing I wouldn’t leave without her.

By the time our second daughter was born two years later, the abuse was increasingly violent and he controlled every aspect of my life, including money.

I was trapped.

During lockdown, colleagues noticed him hovering behind me on Zoom calls, noting who I was speaking to. They questioned it, but I tried to make light of it. 

My parents were suspicious, too; but I was forever explaining Paul was ‘insecure’.

I felt constantly stressed, afraid, and tearful. Paul laughed at me when I cried, calling me pathetic.

I told my GP I was having panic attacks (without saying why) and they prescribed medication. But when it dulled my emotions, Paul banned me from taking it, furious that I no longer wept when he screamed. 

He told me he would rather we were all dead than not be together as a family. My life became a blur of fear, apology and survival.

In 2015, during my second pregnancy, I discovered Paul was having an affair (‘my fault’ as he was stressed about the pregnancy) and he had another affair in 2022. By that time, however, I was relieved when he was out of the house.

One evening, he found me on the phone to a friend, giggling instead of worrying where he’d been. He punched me in the face, then grabbed and twisted my arm, breaking my wrist. 

I tried to hide my black eye when Mum called on FaceTime the next day, but within an hour, she was at my door. When she saw my arm, we went to hospital.

The police visited me at my parents’ home the night we fled. I found the interaction cold – a female officer told me this was a case of ‘he said, she said’ – and it took them four days to contact Paul, during which he sent constant abusive messages demanding I return with the kids.

The police imposed bail conditions: Paul was not to approach me or come to my parents’ house. But these conditions weren’t enforced and he came anyway, day and night, banging on the door and shouting. Each time I reported a breach, he was arrested and released within 24 hours.

I lived in constant fear.

Women’s Aid suggested I speak to a family law specialist, recommending Sharon, an expert in cases like mine. I was shaking the first time we spoke but she was calm and kind. I finally felt I could speak about the abuse to someone who understood. 

Sharon’s first priority was securing a non-molestation order, a legal barrier that stopped Paul harassing me, contacting me, or coming near me. If he did, the police could arrest him on the spot for breaching the order.

I also made an application for an occupation order to remove Paul from our home so that the children and I could return. I filed a statement, the Court listed my orders within a week and to avoid a trial, my husband agreed.

I finally felt safe.

Next, my solicitors issued divorce proceedings. Paul applied for full custody, refused to get a solicitor and represented himself, taking every opportunity throughout our four hearings in the family court to diminish my character.

Sharon supported me throughout – the whole experience would have been devastating without her by my side.

Nearly a year after I went to hospital, the court ruled that Paul had been abusive and should have no direct contact with me or our children, only letters and gifts at birthdays and Christmas.

My children were relieved, particularly my eldest. She has since told me things she endured at Paul’s hand that I never knew about, which broke my heart.

We live peacefully now. I’ve blocked Paul on social media and keep my privacy guarded.

The non molestation orders and occupation orders have now expired – he does abide by the terms in the orders and sends the odd present for the girls on Christmas and birthdays, but he no longer visits our home.

I’m aware he works locally – so my daughters and I are often looking over our shoulder when we are out in town.

I think it will take some time for us to feel completely safe, but we are in a much better place now. My focus is on rebuilding a safe, happy life with my daughters.

While the police should always be the first phone call in an emergency, I believe getting the right legal advice saved my life.

My family lawyer helped me gather the evidence the police needed and with her help, I kept my home, secured financial support, and stopped the abuse.

There are women right now living exactly as I did. The man who hurt me could be out there doing the same thing to someone else.

I hope they read this and realise they’re not alone.

This author was assisted by the legal firm Parfitt Cresswell.

*Name has been changed

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