I often wonder whether the perpetrators of domestic violence think about the destruction they leave in their wake, not only in the moments of terror when they choose physical violence over conflict resolution, but decades later, when their children attempt to make sense of the trauma their childhood delivered.
Whilst now in my 40’s, and having fled our father when I was 8 years old, I do think about how, now estranged, he makes sense of his actions. Whether he knows the damage done, and the terror which still haunts me in daily life, almost 40 years later.
In 2023, I learned it is called complex trauma. The trauma a child experiences being exposed to abuse and/or neglect, and the long term effects of that exposure. Just like many biases which exist in our society, there are those who assume that once parents have separated, and the infliction of violence is over, children move on with their lives. Nothing could be further from the truth.
Witnessing my drunken father attempt to turn a steering wheel off a bridge, while my petrified mother drove, seeing my beloved grandfather wrestled to the ground by my intoxicated father, and a back hand to my mother, knocking her down as she attempted to give me a kiss goodnight, these are all sights I have seen, that cannot be unseen.
My story gets even more complicated, with a mother who we lost to breast cancer when I was a teenager. Whilst you attempt to believe that the universe makes its choices, it was not difficult for me to put the sums together. I knew cancer can be caused by increased stress, I knew my mother had been beaten way too many times to count, and whilst ours was a different fatal outcome that so many families living with violence face,I knew my father had blood on his hands.
And so, you grow into an adult. How do you make sense of what a relationship and family should actually look like? You can’t base it on your own childhood. Your future children would not survive what you have been through. There is a reason that statistics show that those who grow from homes of domestic violence either become the abuser or the abused. As a developing female, you start to believe that this is your destiny. That is what your mother endured, and after all – you’re not better than your mother, so surely, this is what you must endure.
When you meet the man who is to become your husband, and he does not hit you, you actually believe yourself to be “lucky”. Marriage is also not your reality, it becomes a fallacy, a happy ending meant for others, not you. I feel bad for my husband who upon receiving his proposal, I admitted “I can’t say I have faith, and it may not work, but we will give it a go.” The marriage continues to this day, 19 years and counting. These were the words of a downtrodden wife to be; having experienced a traumatic side of life, and now expected to believe love will find a way.
One of my most haunting memories is being huddled in a public bathroom with a frightened mother, arms wrapped around my 8-year-old body, and thoughts running through my head “this surely can’t be marriage”. The naive, yet confident knowledge that there was no way my school friends were spending their weekends in terror. But most of all, the disturbing thought that as an 8-year-old I had figured out this wasn’t marriage, but at 33, my mother had not.
From first hand experience, I can say complex trauma follows you on a daily basis. Despite years of talking therapy, an education which has achieved two degrees, and a life which has attracted a loving husband, and produced wonderful children, you constantly wait for the bubble to burst.
Despite decades passing, and a grown adult staring back at you in the mirror, you question how your own father looks at his own reflection? What does he tell himself about the damage done, and the family lost. And you continue to suffer with the same abandonment issues created by a father who promised so much, and delivered so little.
My thoughts go out to the thousands of women who are currently living in an abusive relationship, and I too shudder when I hear the question of people who have not experienced the terrifying journey “why doesn’t she just leave”, but I urge those women to find a way. Seek help, and leave safely..
I encourage them to look in the eyes of their children, and realise that the terror they witness, and the trauma they experience is not left behind in childhood, it follows them throughout their life, a life which will be spent questioning why they deserved such a nightmare in their developmental years.
If you or someone you know is experiencing, or at risk of experiencing, domestic, family or sexual violence call 1800RESPECT on 1800 737 732, chat online via 1800RESPECT.org.au or text 0458 737 732.
If you are concerned about your behaviour or use of violence, you can contact the Men’s Referral Service on 1300 766 491 or visit www.ntv.org.au.