“It Took Me 10 Years To Leave”
Harry* and I were best friends in high school. We did get together briefly at one point but I dropped him not long after, partly because he talked about himself a lot and embellished his stories so much. It was hard to know what was true. Later, he told me how much that break-up upset him. After school finished, we didn’t have any contact for 15 years.
I met my husband Nick* when I was 28 and we had two children together. But one day, Harry came up on Facebook. He had been working in the club scene. I knew instinctively that I would open up a Pandora’s box if I made a connection, so I didn’t do anything. A couple of weeks later, however, I sent out a friend request. He accepted straightaway, saying, “Let’s meet up!”
I was living in the suburbs, looking after two young boys and working one day a week. I was exhausted. Nick wasn’t very emotionally supportive, and he left all the housework and childcare to me. My life was empty; I didn’t feel there was anything of my former self. I saw my meeting with Harry as a chance to dress up, feel good about myself.
It was a pretty intense reconnection from the start. I was incredibly vulnerable and lonely and he told me, “I still love you, even after all this time.” We got really drunk and we kissed – it was intoxicating, something I hadn’t experienced for a few years. I felt youthful again, going out and dancing and being a bit crazy. He pushed me to leave Nick, and I didn’t need much persuasion. I left my husband almost instantaneously because I didn’t want to go behind his back; I told him what was happening at the start. I think Harry had me trapped from the beginning. He had an emotional hold on me. I knew it was no good, but it offered an escape from my mundane life.
I took the boys – who were five and three – and moved back in with my mum and dad. I stayed there for two years. The break-up with Nick was messy and Harry could be difficult right from the start. We did have nice times, going out to restaurants, but we also fought. At first it would happen after we’d been drinking, so I would rationalise it that way, but it soon became clear that Harry had a lot of issues. Working in the nightclub scene, he’d had 15 years of debauchery before reconnecting with me, and nothing had been off limits – drugs, prostitutes, good-looking girls. He had never grown up emotionally, he couldn’t handle stressful situations and life with him was like being on a roller coaster.
After we fought, he would say he was sorry and that he loved me. He went to AA, he took anti-depressants, we did couples counselling but nothing changed. Meanwhile I grew accustomed to the fights, they became my new normal. Say his behaviour ranged on a scale of one to 10, if an incident was a five, I would think, “Well, he’s been worse.”
I did try to break up with him once but he played mind games to make me jealous. He would message me, telling me his ex-girlfriend had moved in. Then he visited me and we ended up having sex … he came inside me, which he’d never done before. Later, that seemed to me like a very calculated move. Sure enough, I became pregnant that night and I moved out of my parents’ house soon after.
My family were horrified. My mother described him as a monster which isn’t surprising because they had seen him do terrible things. Once he ransacked my parents’ home and wrote “slut” on the mirror. Another time he broke their front window and walked into my mother’s bedroom when she was asleep and screamed at her, blaming her for me breaking up with him.
Four years after I left Nick, he was diagnosed with cancer. By that time, we were good friends again. He knew what Harry was like and he was desperate for me to get out. I spent time with him before he died in 2015 – there was a lot of hugging and telling each other we loved each other. It made me feel like I didn’t want to leave Harry, because I’d already been through one divorce and it caused so much heartbreak for the children. I now had a son with Harry, and felt so much more locked in.
To the outside world I pretended everything was hunky-dory, even though he might have woken me up at four in the morning to yell at me because he couldn’t find the remote control. His volatility meant it didn’t take much for him go off the deep end, like if I wasn’t paying him enough attention. He was also controlling. I couldn’t have a social life of my own; he tracked my every move.
If I was 10 minutes late home from work, he’d accuse me of having an affair. If I went out with girls who were single, he’d say they weren’t trustworthy. He made me think it was all my fault. He kept firearms at his mother’s house and he would threaten to use them. I was always scared that one day he’d drive over and get them. In his bursts of rage, he would say, “If you leave me, I’m going to take you and everyone out, and I’ll go out in a blaze of glory.”
“In his bursts of rage, he would say, ‘If you leave me, I’m going to take you and everyone out, and I’ll go out in a blaze of glory’.”
My two older boys bore the brunt of his abuse. Harry would use revolting, derogatory language about them and put them down by saying their dad was dumb. It is hard to think that I allowed this to happen to my sons and I feel a lot of guilt about it.
There were days I would lie in bed and look at the real estate pages and think about an exit plan, but I felt really stuck. I even called the police a few times but each time that happened, he would talk me around again. He could be very remorseful and sometimes he would cry. He would say, “You’re my world, I would be so lost without you.” And then it would start again.
It took me 10 years to leave. I remember the day things came to a head. He came home in one of his moods and he was so angry, he was literally spitting his words at me. He told my son he was a retard and that his dead dad was a fucking useless piece of shit. My girlfriend’s car was parked in front of our house – he went and slashed her tyres.
She reported him to the police and the next day, a police officer came over and convinced me to take out an intervention order against him. He said, “You’ve called us so many times. We believe you’re in a pattern of abusive behaviour. This man holds guns and slashes tyres and the next time it could be worse.” He made me realise that I had to leave for the safety of my children and myself. The next day they arrested Harry, and I took out an apprehended violence order. I cried the whole day – I couldn’t stop crying. His mother called me a vindictive bitch for taking out the AVO.
If it wasn’t for the people around me reassuring me, telling me it had to be done, I don’t think I would have gone through with it. I still felt sorry for him. But being able to go out, not having anyone tell me what to do, it felt groundbreaking. But there were other times too, when I thought, “I shouldn’t have done that – he didn’t deserve it.” It was like part of my brain had internalised him.
A year on, I’ve had a lot of counselling and I understand what I went through so much better. I am the happiest I’ve ever been and am back in control of my life. My sense of humour has also returned. Harry and I don’t have any contact except for emails about our son.
My neighbour recently told me they used to hear him yelling and smashing things. It was helpful to have my experience validated. Even now it’s very easy to minimise things and wonder if it was really that bad. But I’m going to be okay. I feel empowered from walking away, coping on my own and being a successful single mum. It no longer feels like my whole world is a lie. I do have days where I feel scarred and guilty and am not sure if I like myself. But I always come out of that dark place. I want women to know they can get out. The first step is the hardest, but there is a better life for them.
Our interviewee chose to remain anonymous
Anyone experiencing family violence should contact the National Sexual Assault, Domestic Family Violence Counselling Service on 1800RESPECT 1800 737 732.
Interview_ Rachelle Unreich
Photo_ Geoff Chang/UnSplash