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Seven Victims, One Abuser: What Joshua Kelly’s Case Shows About a System That Fails Survivors

By
Samara Knight
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Joshua Kelly

Joshua Kelly, now serving a four-year, eight-month prison sentence, admitted to controlling and coercive behaviour toward seven women over a five-year period. Based in South Gloucestershire, UK, Kelly targeted women aged between 20 and 24—one after another, or sometimes at the same time—while maintaining overlapping relationships. Despite the pattern of abuse, he remained undetected by authorities until recently, raising urgent questions: how can a single perpetrator abuse so many victims, across years, before action is taken?

Kelly’s methods followed a common trajectory in coercive control cases. According to the officers who investigated, he began each relationship with what is known as “love bombing“—a calculated flood of affection, attention, and promises. Once trust was gained, he moved quickly into the women’s homes, isolating them from friends and family, limiting their freedom, and accusing them of infidelity while secretly conducting multiple relationships himself.

This case is not just about the brutality of one man’s behaviour. It exposes the glaring weaknesses in early detection and intervention systems meant to protect victims of domestic abuse. Seven women suffered years of psychological control, yet no legal action was taken until all of them came forward. That delay speaks volumes.

Coercive Control: The Invisible Abuse

Coercive control is often misunderstood or dismissed because it leaves no visible bruises. Yet its damage can be just as life-altering. According to the Bristol Post, Detective Constable Matilda Dowsing, who led the investigation, described Kelly’s actions as a “domestic reign of terror.” She noted: “He has systematically controlled each of his victims and played one off against another.”

One of the core challenges with prosecuting coercive control is that the signs are often minimised, even by victims themselves. The BBC reports that Kelly’s partners reportedly felt unable to socialise, experienced constant accusations, and were pressured into behaviours that went against their values. Many were left so emotionally shattered that some now struggle to trust others at all.

These patterns align with well-documented coercive control tactics: isolating the victim, making them question their reality, and using fear, guilt, and shame as tools of dominance. Dowsing added, “Controlling behaviour can be quite hard to measure, but that is the fundamental part—domestic abuse is about power” [via Bristol Post].

Why Didn’t the System Catch Him Sooner?

Kelly’s conviction is important, but it also begs the question: why did it take seven victims for authorities to act? While the police thanked the women for their courage, the fact remains—these women were controlled, isolated, and emotionally abused for years without institutional protection.

Abusers like Kelly thrive in the gaps. Coercive control laws exist in the UK, but they require not only that victims recognise the abuse, but also that they feel safe and supported enough to report it. Many never do. For those who do, the process can be retraumatising and, as this case shows, often too slow.

In Kelly’s case, the psychological abuse was clear, repeated, and escalated. Yet he managed to avoid accountability until seven lives were severely impacted. While a restraining order and prison sentence are now in place, the trauma endured by those women cannot be undone.

As DC Dowsing rightly said, “This conviction will never undo the trauma that he has caused.”

This case should serve as a wake-up call. There must be better systems in place to flag repeat offenders early, especially when multiple allegations surface in a short time. There is also a need for greater awareness among frontline services—police, healthcare workers, educators—so they can spot patterns before more harm is done.

Featured image: Joshua Kelly Source: Avon and Somerset Police

Australian Police Charge Woman for Driving Offences While Escaping Abuse

By
Samara Knight
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police charge woman escaping abuse

An Australian woman who drove while disqualified to flee her violent partner—after he threatened to kill her dog—has had her charges dismissed, in a case that exposes the harrowing decisions survivors often face when help fails to arrive.

The Guardian reports that the woman, referred to as ESC, was intercepted by Queensland police in February and charged with driving offences. But the Gympie Magistrates Court found she was acting under an “extraordinary emergency” as she fled an ongoing pattern of domestic abuse. Her former partner’s threat to kill her dog was the final trigger in a long history of violence, intimidation, and psychological degradation.

The court recognised that her actions were not an act of defiance, but a desperate attempt to protect herself and her dog from imminent danger.

“Extraordinary Emergency”

The court accepted unchallenged evidence that ESC had experienced physical violence, verbal abuse, property damage, false accusations, and deliberate efforts by her partner to isolate her and destroy her self-worth. The threat to her dog—her companion and emotional support—was not an isolated outburst. It was part of a broader pattern of coercive control.

Magistrate Hughes explicitly recognised that threatening a pet is a well-known tactic in abusive dynamics. She added that the threat wasn’t just to the dog, but also to ESC’s “own mental and emotional wellbeing” [via Women’s Agenda].

Despite this, police prosecuting the case argued that ESC’s behaviour didn’t seem panicked enough and that she should have called for help or driven to the nearest police station. The magistrate rejected this suggestion as unrealistic and detached from the realities of trauma.

Magistrate Hughes noted that people in crisis should not be condemned for the decisions they make in the “agony of the moment,” and that it was reasonable for an ordinary person to act as ESC did under such pressure.

Why Victims Don’t Always Call for Help

The case reveals a painful truth for many survivors: calling the police does not always mean getting help. ESC told the court that on a previous occasion she had called authorities—and waited more than six hours for officers to arrive.

This experience eroded her trust that the system would protect her. When her dog’s life was threatened, she didn’t wait. She fled.

Magistrate Hughes acknowledged that the quality of police response varies and that ESC’s loss of faith in receiving help was “honest and reasonable,” especially after previously waiting over six hours for officers to attend.

This is the gap that victims often fall through. When police responses are slow, inconsistent, or dismissive, survivors feel forced to take matters into their own hands—risking legal consequences for trying to stay alive.

Coercive Control Isn’t Always Loud

This case also highlights the complexity of coercive control—a form of domestic abuse that doesn’t rely on visible bruises but on patterns of domination, isolation, and emotional exhaustion.

ESC’s partner didn’t need to assault her the night she fled. He only needed to issue a threat that she knew, from experience, could escalate. Her choice to leave was not impulsive. It was born of accumulated fear, deep isolation, and the knowledge that the systems around her couldn’t be relied on in a crisis.

The prosecution’s claim—that she didn’t seem frightened enough or that she could’ve asked police for help when pulled over—demonstrates a misunderstanding of trauma. Victims in survival mode may appear calm, disconnected, or compliant. These are normal responses to abnormal, threatening circumstances.

Pets, Power, and Psychological Warfare

Threats to animals are a powerful weapon in the abuser’s arsenal. They exploit the deep emotional bonds victims have with their pets, using them to instil fear, compliance, and silence.

In ESC’s case, her dog was both a source of love and stability and a target for cruelty. By threatening the animal, the abuser ensured that his victim remained off-balance and terrified of taking any action that might trigger his rage.

This form of abuse is widely underreported yet devastating. Many survivors stay in violent homes longer because they fear what will happen to their pets if they leave. Some shelters are unable to accommodate animals, further complicating the escape.

A Turning Point—or a One-Off?

While this ruling sets an important precedent, it also raises larger questions about how the justice system treats survivors. What happens to those who aren’t believed? Who don’t get a magistrate like Bevan Hughes? Who don’t have the legal knowledge or confidence to assert the defence of “extraordinary emergency”?

Too often, survivors are criminalised for their own acts of survival. They are told they should have stayed calm, followed procedures, or waited for help that never came. But as ESC’s case makes clear, sometimes survival means breaking a law to save your life—or your dog’s.

Until the system understands that it will continue to punish the people it was meant to protect.

Featured image: Police charge woman escaping abuse Source: Monkey Business / Adobe Stock.

When Others Have It Worse: How The Comparison Trap Silences Survivors

By
Samara Knight
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comparison trap in abuse

Victims of domestic abuse are often met with dismissive responses that minimise their pain: At least it wasn’t worse. Be glad he never hit you. You should be grateful you got away—some people never do.

But what if that very message becomes the barrier to healing? For many individuals in emotionally, psychologically, or verbally abusive relationships, the idea that “others had it worse” becomes a silencing force. It casts doubt on their reality, making them question whether what they experienced even qualifies as abuse. It tells them they’re overreacting. That they should be fine. That they don’t have the right to hurt.

This article examines the comparison trap in abuse—how societal narratives that focus only on the most extreme forms of harm cause victims to overlook or dismiss their own experiences. And how true recovery begins with recognising that abuse doesn’t have to look a certain way to be real.

Trapped in Comparison: “It Could Have Been Worse”

One of trauma’s most damaging effects is the inner voice that whispers, Maybe I’m exaggerating. That voice grows louder when you’ve spent years trying to explain something no one else seemed to witness. When your understanding of abuse has been shaped by only the most visible forms—bruises, screaming, physical danger.

As one survivor put it: “I remember thinking (I still do), ‘Maybe I’m exaggerating.’ It makes you go back to the relationship thinking you were being ‘ridiculous’.”

This cycle of self-doubt is common. Many people who lived through non-physical abuse spend years downplaying what they endured simply because they weren’t physically assaulted. They compare themselves to those who ended up in emergency rooms or shelters, and feel ashamed for being so impacted by “just words.”

Yet emotional and psychological abuse are no less damaging. These forms of harm often go unseen, but they run deep. Their invisibility doesn’t make them any less real.

Why Media Narratives Leave Survivors in the Dark

The stories we consume shape our expectations. When it comes to abuse, media representation has contributed to a dangerously narrow view of what abuse looks like.

TV dramas, documentaries, and news coverage frequently focus on the most extreme examples: physical violence, dramatic rescues, courtroom battles. These narratives are important, but they aren’t the whole picture.

What often goes unseen are the slow, corrosive experiences that chip away at someone’s self-worth. The control over money. The constant emotional manipulation. The charming partner no one else suspects. The isolating behaviours disguised as love.

“It took me years to realize it was abuse,” one survivor shared. “I didn’t have the right picture of what abuse looked like.”

Another said, “I thought I hadn’t been in a DV situation because he never hit me. Ten years later, in a conversation with a woman just leaving a DV situation, I discovered that verbal, financial abuse, gaslighting—those are abuse too.”

By defining abuse only through physical violence, society invalidates millions of people whose experiences fall outside that frame. This cultural oversight traps survivors in shame and confusion.

When Empathy Becomes Self-Silencing

Many survivors are deeply compassionate individuals. That empathy often plays a role in why they stayed. It also shapes how they process what happened.

They try to understand their abuser’s trauma. They make excuses. They blame themselves. And when they hear about others who faced worse, they convince themselves they have no right to speak up.

You might find yourself rationalising: They had a traumatic past. I provoked them. I’m too sensitive. It’s not like they ever hit me.

This is empathy turned inward in a harmful way. It stops survivors from recognising what they went through, from protecting themselves, from reaching out for help. It keeps them small.

The Hidden Cost of Minimising Your Pain

Telling yourself it “wasn’t that bad” doesn’t make it any less damaging. It just adds another layer of silence.

When survivors compare their experiences to those who “had it worse,” they often avoid seeking therapy, delay leaving the relationship, or carry deep shame for continuing to struggle.

“I used to think it was my fault. That I needed to be the bigger person and detach from my ego. That maybe when he told me I was grandiose, he was right,” one survivor shared.

These beliefs, especially when reinforced by others, can leave victims deeply confused about what they actually endured. Psychological abuse distorts reality. Over time, it can even make you question whether anything really happened at all.

But if you were left anxious, afraid, disconnected from yourself—if you felt silenced, ashamed, or unsafe—then what you experienced was real. And it caused harm.

You Don’t Need a Comparison to Call It Abuse

There is no minimum threshold of suffering required for your story to matter. You don’t need to match someone else’s nightmare to validate your own.

Abuse isn’t a competition. It’s a pattern of control, coercion, and harm. Whether it shows up through constant criticism, silent withdrawal, financial restriction, or physical threats—it all counts.

You are allowed to name it. You are allowed to get help. You are allowed to heal, even if it took you years to realise it was abuse.

Comparison Trap in Abuse: Reclaiming Your Truth

If you’ve spent time telling yourself it wasn’t abuse because it wasn’t “as bad,” take a moment to listen to the part of you that still aches. That still remembers. That still needs validation.

What happened to you does not need to meet anyone else’s standards to be real.

You don’t have to minimise your story to make space for someone else’s. Your experience matters, even if it doesn’t look like anyone else’s.

You were there. You know what happened. And you have every right to name it.

Not because it fits a certain mould. But because it is your truth.

Featured image: Comparing to others can keep victims trapped. Source: photosky99 / Adobe Stock.

When the Abuser Controls the Narrative and Everyone Believes It

By
Angie Doel
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how abusers control the narrative

One of the most powerful and damaging strategies an abuser can use is controlling the narrative. By shaping how others perceive the situation, they can distort the truth, manipulate perceptions, and rewrite events in a way that protects their image. This tactic doesn’t just impact the victim — it also influences how outsiders respond, making it harder for the victim to be believed or supported. Understanding how controlling the narrative in abuse works is essential for recognizing manipulation and reclaiming the truth.

So, what does it mean when an abuser controls the narrative?

It refers to their calculated effort to present a version of reality that serves their needs. This often involves gaslighting, spreading misinformation, and launching smear campaigns — all aimed at undermining the victim’s credibility. While the abuser casts themselves as calm, reasonable, or even heroic, the victim is portrayed as irrational, unstable, or dangerous. These distorted narratives are often shared with friends, family members, professionals, and even the legal system, creating a climate of confusion and mistrust around the survivor’s experience.

At its core, narrative control is about isolating the victim while maintaining dominance.
By discrediting their partner, the abuser sows doubt in the minds of others, weakening the victim’s support system and increasing their dependency. Friends, relatives, or therapists may hesitate to intervene or believe the victim’s account if the abuser has already planted seeds of suspicion. These portrayals — often painting the victim as hysterical, vindictive, or mentally unwell — create emotional and social isolation, reinforcing the abuser’s power.

But the damage doesn’t stop with others — it also affects the victim’s sense of self.
When an abuser successfully controls the story, they not only shape how others view the victim but also how the victim begins to view themselves. Over time, the constant manipulation and misrepresentation can erode the survivor’s confidence, sense of identity, and ability to trust their own perspective. This deepens the power imbalance and makes it even harder to break free from the cycle of abuse.

Common Tactics Abusers Use to Control the Narrative

1. Gaslighting is a psychological manipulation tactic in which the abuser causes the victim to doubt their own memory or perception. For example, if the individual confronts the abuser about harmful behavior, the abuser might deny it ever happened or claim they are exaggerating. Over time, this creates confusion and self-doubt, making it harder for a person to trust their own reality.

2. Smear Campaigns are false or exaggerated claims about someone to friends, family, or colleagues. This can include labeling them as “crazy,” “manipulative,” or “abusive” themselves. These attacks often take place after the victim escapes the relationship, as the abuser attempts to control the post-separation narrative and punish their partner for leaving.

3. Playing the Victim means the abuser casts themselves as the wronged party.  This tactic can be especially effective in legal or social settings, where they might claim the other person is abusive, unreasonable, or neglectful. They do this to deflect attention from their own behavior and cast doubt on the victim’s credibility.

4. DARVO (DARVO—Deny, Attack, and Reverse Victim and Offender) is a strategy abusers use to evade responsibility. They deny any wrongdoing, attack the victim for speaking up, and then portray themselves as the true victim. This tactic is particularly damaging in court cases or custody disputes, as it can completely distort the perception of who is really at fault.

The Impact of Narrative Control

When an abuser controls the story, the victim often faces significant emotional, psychological, and social consequences.

1. Isolation – Victims may find themselves cut off from friends, family, and community support. When others believe the abuser’s narrative, they may distance themselves from the victim, leaving them without crucial allies.

2. Reputational Damage – The abuser may spread misinformation that can severely damage the victim’s character and credibility. This can affect personal relationships, professional opportunities, and the ability to access support services.

3. Self-Doubt and Confusion – Constant gaslighting and manipulation lead victims to question their own reality. This makes it harder for them to trust their instincts or recognize the abuse, keeping them trapped in the cycle.

4. Legal and Financial Challenges – In cases involving divorce or custody disputes, an abuser’s narrative control can sway judges and lawyers, leading to unjust rulings. Victims may lose custody of their children or face financial burdens because of the abuser’s manipulations.

5. Long-Term Trauma – The psychological effects of narrative control can linger long after the abuse ends. Survivors may struggle with trust issues, low self-esteem, and post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), especially if the abuser successfully tarnishes their reputation.

Countering Narrative Control

Dismantling the abuser’s story requires a combination of personal resilience, external support, and, in some cases, legal action.

1. Build a Support Network – Survivors need a trusted circle of friends, family, or professionals who can provide validation and assistance. This network can counter the isolation created by the abuser and offer alternative perspectives on the situation.

2. Document Evidence – Recording incidents – including dates, times, and details – can help establish a clear, factual account of events. This is especially important in legal cases where the abuser’s narrative may sway opinions.

3. Seek Professional Help – Therapists and counselors who specialize in abuse can help rebuild confidence and to develop strategies to navigate an abuser’s manipulation. Legal advocates can also assist in presenting evidence and challenging false narratives in court.

Reclaim Your Story

Recovering from the effects of narrative control is a journey that requires survivors to reclaim their voices, trust their instincts, and rebuild their lives on their own terms. While the scars of manipulation and smear campaigns can run deep, the healing process offers the promise of empowerment and freedom.

When an abuser controls the story, they wield a dangerous power that extends beyond their immediate relationship with the victim. By shaping perceptions and distorting reality, they create barriers that make it difficult for victims to seek help or justice. Recognizing and countering this behavior is essential for holding abusers accountable.

References

Bancroft, L. (2002). Why Does He Do That? Inside the Minds of Angry and Controlling Men. Berkley Books.

Herman, J. L. (1992). Trauma and Recovery: The Aftermath of Violence—from Domestic Abuse to Political Terror. Basic Books.

Stark, E. (2007). Coercive Control: How Men Entrap Women in Personal Life. Oxford University Press.

Featured Image: When an abuser controls the narrative, they wield dangerous power. Source: Feodora / Adobe Stock

Why Survivors of Abuse Are Left Feeling They’re Never Enough

By
Samara Knight
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never enough

Domestic abuse doesn’t just leave bruises—it slowly dismantles your sense of self. Survivors often describe the haunting feeling that they were never smart enough, attractive enough, calm enough, or loyal enough to prevent the criticism, outbursts, or emotional neglect. Over time, this dynamic leaves them depleted, confused, and constantly trying to meet shifting standards in order to feel loved or safe.

But this isn’t accidental. It’s a calculated method of control. This article explores why abusers create the belief that you’re never enough, the psychological tactics behind it, and its lasting effects on survivors.

From Idealization to Criticism: The Emotional Whiplash

In the early stages, abusers often begin with overwhelming affection and attention—commonly known as love bombing. It feels like a dream: someone who sees and values you deeply. But this stage is fleeting. Criticism soon creeps in, paired with comparisons and arbitrary demands.

This sudden shift creates emotional instability. When someone conditions love on whether you meet their unreachable standards, it’s easy to start believing that your value depends on how hard you try.

One survivor captured the experience: “I was doing cartwheels backwards to please him. I was never able to do things well enough. And it was always explained as my fault. So I thought if I’m just skinny enough, quiet enough, house-wifey enough (while working full time), religious enough, things could change.”

The result is a draining loop: you try harder, feel like you’ve failed, then try even harder still—hoping the emotional approval will return. But it rarely does, because the target keeps moving.

The Manipulation of Changing Standards

What satisfies the abuser one day might provoke rage the next. Their expectations are constantly in flux, forcing victims into a state of hyper-awareness. You end up constantly monitoring your words, actions, and even facial expressions, hoping to avoid another outburst.

“The goalposts keep moving. Just when you think you’ve got it, there is a new rule, so you can never be good enough.”

This volatility is intentional. The abuser wants you off-balance, always chasing their approval. When you inevitably ‘fail,’ they turn the blame on you.

One woman shared, “When I worked full-time, he’d tell me I didn’t get enough done around the house… But when I cut back on my hours, he’d tell me I didn’t work enough and I am careless with HIS money. It has been a never-ending cycle with him. Nothing ever seems to be sufficient.”

That blame reinforces the internalized belief that you’re the problem. You start thinking that if you could just get it right, things would finally be okay.

How Abuse Rewrites Your Self-Image

This form of emotional control leaves deep scars on your sense of identity. Bit by bit, the confident, independent version of yourself is replaced by someone who second-guesses everything, feels inadequate, and no longer trusts their own reality.

“At the beginning of the relationship, I saw myself as a smart, independent, capable young woman. But by the end, my self-esteem was at rock bottom. I felt that I was not smart enough, not strong enough, not pretty enough, not enough of anything.”

Shame adds another layer. It keeps many survivors silent, believing they were somehow to blame.

“I felt ashamed of myself for being stupid enough to have allowed myself to fall into a situation like that… I felt ashamed that I needed therapy, like somehow that meant I was weak and broken.”

If you’ve experienced this, that shame might feel familiar. But the truth is: those beliefs were planted by someone who needed to diminish you. They never belonged to you.

When Affection Becomes a Trap

From the outside, it’s hard to grasp why someone would stay in a relationship that hurts them. But abuse often comes in waves. Just when the victim is ready to walk away, a softer side appears—apologies, warmth, or promises for the future.

“Just when I was ready to leave, he’d suddenly be kind again. He’d hug me, say he loved me, talk about our future. And I’d think—maybe I had everything wrong, maybe I just needed to try harder to keep those good times. That tiny bit of hope kept me going back every time.”

These fleeting moments of tenderness create a powerful emotional bond. They keep the hope alive that the relationship can be salvaged if you just give it another chance. This keeps many victims locked in place, sometimes for years.

The Journey Back to Yourself

Leaving an abusive relationship doesn’t instantly restore your confidence. Many survivors wrestle with the idea that they failed—that they simply weren’t enough to be treated better. But that belief is a symptom of abuse, not a reflection of truth.

Healing is about shedding the lies you were told and reconnecting with the self you once knew. It means rebuilding trust in your own voice and recognizing that your value never depended on meeting someone else’s impossible standards.

“Healing has been finding my worth and that I am enough. Finally knowing what I want and deserve… Freedom and peace. No more overthinking and anxiety. Learning to love myself.”

Recovery takes time. But every act of self-respect—setting a boundary, choosing rest, speaking kindly to yourself—is a step forward. Healing isn’t about returning to who you used to be. It’s about becoming someone who fully understands their own strength, dignity, and inner clarity.

You were never too much. You were never not enough. You were never the problem.

Featured image: Emotional abuse leaves victims feeling ‘never enough’. Source: Ariwasabi / Adobe Stock.

* Quotes are drawn from survivor experiences shared publicly on the Shadows of Control Facebook and Twitter pages and have been lightly edited for spelling, grammar, or clarity.

Ireland to Bolster Victim Protections Amid ‘Epidemic’ of Domestic Abuse Cases

By
Samara Knight
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domestic abuse legal reforms in Ireland

As Ireland faces what leaders are calling an “epidemic” of domestic violence, the Government has proposed a series of legal reforms aimed at better protecting women from abusive partners. These include the creation of a national domestic abuse register, restrictions on the use of counselling notes in court, changes to who is removed from the family home, and critical amendments to the Guardianship of Infants Act.

The changes follow the release of Women’s Aid’s 2024 annual report, which documented the highest number of abuse disclosures in its 50-year history. It revealed sharp increases across all categories of abuse. Justice Minister Jim O’Callaghan acknowledged that more decisive legislative action is needed—especially reforms that do not place the burden on victims to change their lives in order to feel safe.

A Domestic Abuse Register: Prevention Before Protection

The Irish Examiner reports that one of the most significant proposals is the introduction of a domestic abuse register. Similar to the sex offenders register, it would allow certain individuals—such as Gardaí, family court officials, and possibly concerned family members or new partners—to be alerted if someone has a documented history of domestic abuse.

The rationale behind the register is rooted in prevention. Survivors, campaigners, and advocates have long argued that women often enter relationships unaware of a partner’s abusive past. By making this information accessible in a controlled and legally sound manner, the Government hopes to help women make more informed decisions and reduce repeat cycles of abuse.

The urgency is clear in cases like Marc Masterton in the UK—jailed for coercive control for a second time, despite having already served time for abusing Chloe Holland, who later died by suicide, following years of abuse. His reoffending highlights the urgent need for early-warning systems to prevent serial abusers from harming again.

While the exact scope and eligibility criteria for access are still under consideration, the register marks an important step toward placing accountability on the perpetrator, not the survivor.

Protecting the Therapeutic Space

Another central reform targets the controversial practice of using a survivor’s counselling notes as evidence in criminal trials. Under current rules, these highly personal notes—often recorded by therapists or support services—can be subpoenaed by defence teams, leading to re-traumatisation and discouraging victims from seeking help.

The proposed changes to the Sexual Offences Act would mean such notes could only be used in court if excluding them would result in an unfair trial. This is seen as a critical step in safeguarding the therapeutic process and reassuring survivors that speaking to a counsellor won’t be turned against them in court.

Removing the Abuser, Not the Victim

A common pattern in domestic abuse cases is the expectation that the victim must leave the family home to secure their safety—usually a woman and her children—while the abuser remains. In many cases, this means uprooting children from school, losing access to jobs, or even becoming homeless due to a lack of refuge spaces.

Minister O’Callaghan has committed to a new principle: that the abuser, not the victim, should be the one removed from the home.

“It should not be the case that the first instinct and the first port of call when a woman is subjected to domestic abuse in her home is that we ask how we can find another place for that woman to live,” Mr O’Callaghan said [via Irish Examiner]. “The response should be around how we can get the abuser out of the home.”

While this is undoubtedly the right approach, it represents a significant shift from how domestic violence cases have historically been addressed. Enforcing it will require stronger legal tools—particularly so Gardaí and courts can act swiftly to protect survivors without making them shoulder the fallout of their partner’s violence.

Guardianship of Infants Act: Preventing Post-Separation Harm

Another key legal reform in the works is an amendment to the Guardianship of Infants Act. This change is being driven by cases in which a father who has killed the child’s mother continues to retain parental rights or guardianship over that child. Unbelievably, under the current law, there is no automatic revocation of parental responsibility, even in the case of femicide.

The proposed amendments aim to rectify this by ensuring that the surviving family—usually maternal relatives—can be granted guardianship more easily and without the traumatic legal hurdles currently required.

A Welcome Step—But Not Without Gaps

While these legislative moves have been broadly welcomed by advocacy groups and opposition leaders, there are ongoing concerns about implementation. Labour leader Ivana Bacik pointed out that nearly half of the women who contacted Gardaí in the past year described the response as “unhelpful,” according to a recent survey.

Laws are only effective when frontline services are properly trained, resourced, and willing to act. Without meaningful change in how Gardaí and family courts respond to domestic abuse allegations, even the strongest laws may fall short of their promise.

Featured image: Domestic abuse victim reports to the police. Source: Photographee.eu / Adobe Stock.

How Coercive Control Undermines a Victim’s Ability to Make Decisions

By
Samara Knight
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coercive control and decision-making

Domestic abuse isn’t always visible. Sometimes, it shows up in the way your words are dismissed, your preferences are laughed at, or your voice slowly fades from the decisions that shape your own life.

At the core of coercive control is power — the need to dominate another person’s choices, voice, and sense of self. For many victims, the most enduring wound is not a single traumatic event, but the quiet, cumulative loss of the ability to make decisions. And that loss doesn’t disappear when the relationship ends. It lingers in the everyday: choosing what to wear, what to eat, how to live.

When Decisions Are Made for You

When there is coercive control in a relationship, the most significant decisions — financial, legal, personal — are made unilaterally by the abuser. Victims are either deliberately excluded from the process or manipulated into compliance, often with no real opportunity to give or withhold consent.

This isn’t about occasional miscommunication. It’s about being deliberately sidelined, overruled, or overridden.

As one survivor shared, “My ex applied for a mortgage in both our names without ever discussing it with me. I only found out when the paperwork arrived to sign. It would have locked me into a 30-year financial tie to him — and to a life I hadn’t chosen.”

Another recalled, “He got a vasectomy without even mentioning it, secretly took out a loan for the equity of the house, started a business behind my back with my money — and ran it with the mistress.”

The effect is deeply destabilising. When your partner routinely makes major life decisions without you — or despite your objections — it sends the message that your voice doesn’t matter. The cumulative result is not just the loss of practical control over your life, but a shrinking of your sense of agency. You begin to internalise the idea that you’re not supposed to have a say.

Over time, this breeds confusion and helplessness. Many survivors describe feeling like passengers in their own lives, unable to steer the direction of their home, finances, or future.

Fear-Based Choices

Coercion is not always loud. It can be subtle, strategic, and persistent — a slow grind of pressure that wears down resistance over time. This might look like constant pestering, emotional guilt-tripping, or sly, underhanded remarks designed to manipulate rather than persuade.

One survivor described, “My ex and I had an argument that lasted 9 months. I said ‘no’ continuously; he would not give up. I finally couldn’t take it anymore. Later he said that I agreed with him. No, I was psychologically beaten into submission.”

Another shared, “I stopped making decisions that made me happy for the sake of keeping the peace. I dreaded seeing his name pop up because I was in this state of fear about what I’d done wrong now.”

When there is domestic abuse, saying “no” can feel dangerous — not necessarily because of direct threats, but because of what comes after: sulking, accusations, hours-long arguments, or emotional shutdowns. This constant pattern of punishment and protest conditions the victim to give in, not out of agreement, but to end the conflict.

The abuser may insist, “I’m just trying to talk it through,” but in reality, it’s a siege — an endless loop of pressure and emotional exhaustion. Decisions are no longer about what feels right, but about what feels safest.

Sometimes, though, the coercion is direct and unmistakable. It can take the form of veiled threats or outright intimidation — reminders that any resistance will come at a cost. One survivor recalled, “If I disagreed with him, he’d stand over me, clench his fists, and say, ‘You’re really going to make me do this?’ I always backed down. Every time.”

This kind of physical and verbal intimidation doesn’t just enforce compliance in the moment — it creates a long-term association between asserting your needs and being unsafe. Even when not directly threatened, the memory of those moments keeps future resistance in check.

Eventually, many victims begin to pre-empt what the abuser wants, making decisions based not on desire or instinct, but on self-protection. It becomes easier to avoid conflict than to hold your ground. And once fear starts guiding your choices, it’s no longer a decision — it’s survival.

Undermining Your Voice Through Shame and Gaslighting

Decision-making relies on one essential ingredient: self-trust. And in coercive control, that trust is slowly dismantled.

Abusers often ridicule, mock, or belittle their partner’s preferences and opinions. It’s rarely overt — more often it comes in the form of sarcastic remarks, eye rolls, or passive-aggressive “jokes.” Over time, these interactions leave victims feeling stupid, irrational, or incompetent.

One survivor wrote, “I had no idea what I even liked anymore! And I doubted decisions and constantly second guessed myself.”

Another added, “When your internal guide has been systematically tampered with or nearly destroyed, it’s an uphill battle to trust your own decisions.”

Abusers may frame their criticism as concern:

  • “I just don’t think that’s a good idea — you always get these things wrong.”
  • “You’re so emotional. Just calm down and let me handle it.”

These kinds of comments reinforce the belief that the victim’s judgment is flawed. Eventually, they begin outsourcing decisions to the abuser because they’ve come to believe they’re not capable.

This erosion of confidence doesn’t just affect the relationship. It bleeds into every part of life. Survivors often struggle to make even simple choices after leaving — unsure whether their preferences are valid, or whether they’ll be punished again for getting it “wrong.”

The Illusion of Choice

Control doesn’t always come from force. Sometimes it’s about keeping someone in the dark.

Abusers may deliberately withhold key information until a decision is irreversible — or they’ll offer meaningless choices to create the illusion of collaboration while keeping real control out of reach.

One survivor said, “Oh, he asked my opinion on refinancing the house — three options, and he chose the one directly opposite of what I preferred. Then I had no choice but to sign the papers.”

Another added, “He made it look like I had a say by asking me to pick the curtain colour — but he already bought the house.”

These dynamics are deeply disorienting. You’re made to feel included, but nothing you say actually changes the outcome. Your “yes” is manufactured through strategic omission, selective information, or pre-determined results. Over time, this trains victims to disengage. If their input never matters, why offer it? And with each ignored preference, they retreat a little further from their own voice.

Pressure, Urgency, and No Room to Reconsider

Healthy decision-making involves time, reflection, and the freedom to change your mind. In coercive control, those freedoms don’t exist.

Victims are often pressured to make quick decisions — usually under emotional duress — and then locked into them, even if they later express doubt or discomfort.

One survivor described: “You are not allowed to make one decision. Ask a question. Only communicate through text. And know nothing. They gaslight you to take focus off their actions.”

Another added: “I ended up utterly demoralised by constantly having to fight for a say in any decision and still usually being invalidated or condescended to.”

This sense of urgency is often manufactured. Abusers set artificial deadlines or create high-stress moments designed to overwhelm. One survivor recalled, “I was cooking dinner and my husband told me we needed to decide then and there if we were going to purchase a particular house. I told him I couldn’t decide in that moment, and he said, ‘Ok then, if you can’t decide now, I will just make the decision for myself.’”

This type of pressure sends a clear message: if you can’t keep up, you’ll be left out. It turns decision-making into a race against the abuser’s impatience. There’s no room to pause, no tolerance for uncertainty, and certainly no acceptance of changing your mind. Even simple changes of heart are met with contempt:

  • “You said yes — now you’re going to change your mind again?”
  • “You’re being dramatic. We already agreed.”

Over time, this creates deep anxiety around expressing needs or asking for time to think. Many victims learn that it’s easier — and safer — to stay quiet than to risk being mocked, rushed, or steamrolled again.

Relearning How to Make Decisions in Recovery

Leaving the relationship doesn’t immediately restore someone’s confidence. In fact, many survivors find the aftermath even more disorienting. After years of being silenced or overridden, they no longer know what they want — or how to trust their ability to choose.

One survivor shared, “After I left him, suddenly I was faced with decisions I had never had to make before because he had always decided everything for me… I had to relearn how to make choices for myself, which was both terrifying and freeing.”

Another wrote, “I grieved for the years I felt I wasted trying to make the relationship work… but I embraced the freedom of finally being able to make decisions without criticism.”

Rebuilding this capacity is a slow, emotional process. It often begins with the basics: choosing meals, trying new clothes, setting boundaries. Small decisions become acts of self-definition. And with each one, the survivor begins to reconnect with the part of them that was buried.

“I can think about what I want and especially what I need, make my own decisions and mistakes,” one woman explained. “I can enjoy the simple things in life. I now have the space to get to know me in all my imperfections.”

This stage can feel scary — but it’s also where healing begins.

Supporting Survivors with the Decisions They Make

If you’re supporting someone who’s healing from coercive control, the most powerful thing you can do is not make decisions for them. Even well-meaning advice can feel like another form of control.

One survivor offered this: “Don’t tell them what they need to do. They have enough of that already. Let them know you see them and will support them no matter what. Help them to feel like they have the ability to make decisions and take some control for themself.”

What survivors need most is space — to explore, to stumble, to experiment with using their own voice again. Offer curiosity instead of direction. Validate their hesitation. Respect their timing. This isn’t about giving them the right answer — it’s about helping them believe they’re allowed to find their own, even if that means making mistakes along the way.

If you’re walking alongside someone in recovery, remember that healing begins when theyrealise the right to choose is theirs again.

Featured image: Coercive control undermines decision-making. Source: Dragana Gordic / Adobe Stock.

New UK Domestic Abuse Orders Empower Third Parties to Act — A Lifeline for Silent Victims

By
Samara Knight
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UK domestic abuse orders

A major shift in the UK’s response to domestic abuse has quietly taken root, with the launch of new Domestic Abuse Protection Orders (DAPOs) designed to close dangerous legal gaps and offer earlier, stronger protection to victims. The new orders are currently being trialled in select police forces across the country and could mark a pivotal moment in how society intervenes in coercive and violent relationships.

What Are DAPOs and How Do They Work?

Under the Domestic Abuse Act 2021, the UK government introduced a new two-stage protection system comprising Domestic Abuse Protection Notices (DAPNs) and the longer-term Domestic Abuse Protection Orders (DAPOs). These powers allow police and courts to intervene even when there is insufficient evidence for criminal charges.

According to The Guardian, DAPNs can be issued by police immediately to provide urgent safety, while DAPOs—applied for within 48 hours—can be enforced across civil, family, and criminal courts. Unlike older mechanisms such as non-molestation orders, DAPOs can include a broad range of conditions tailored to each case, including:

  • Prohibiting contact with the victim or their children
  • Exclusion from specified locations
  • Wearing a GPS tag
  • Mandating participation in drug, alcohol, or behavioural rehabilitation

Critically, DAPOs are not limited to 28 days like previous orders and can last much longer depending on the case, with breaches carrying criminal penalties of up to five years in prison. Additionally, family courts now have the power to impose GPS tagging on high-risk offenders for up to 12 months—a measure that was previously limited to police or criminal courts.

The pilot was rolled out in late 2024 and early 2025 across police forces including Greater Manchester, Croydon, Cleveland Police, North Wales, and British Transport Police. In Cleveland, where the scheme began in March, over 40 DAPOs have already been issued.

A Quiet Revolution: Third-Party Applications Now Allowed

Perhaps the most transformative element of the pilot scheme is the allowance for third-party applications. As BBC News reports, friends, family members, or professionals such as support workers or healthcare providers can now apply for a DAPO on behalf of a victim.

This development could be life-saving. Victims of domestic abuse often don’t report out of fear—fear of being disbelieved, losing their children, or triggering further violence from the perpetrator. Allowing a trusted third party to act breaks this paralysis.

Why Victims Often Can’t Report Abuse

Many survivors do not recognise coercive control for what it is until years into the relationship. Control over finances, who they can see, what they wear, and even how they think or feel can be subtle and hard to describe.

Others do understand the danger but feel powerless to act. According to Women’s Aid, up to 85% of domestic abuse victims never contact the police, and emotional and psychological abuse often goes entirely unreported.

There’s also the reality of trauma bonding, shame, and isolation. Victims may rationalise their partner’s behaviour, especially in cases without visible physical violence. Third-party intervention helps bridge this gap between perception and protection.

Jess Phillips, the Minister for Safeguarding and Violence Against Women and Girls, said the new measures were intended to be far more effective than the previous orders, which victims and advocates frequently described as being disregarded without consequence.

What’s Next?

The Ministry of Justice will evaluate the effectiveness of the pilot over the next two years. If successful, the orders could be rolled out nationally. Legal experts have praised the framework for streamlining protective measures and removing the bureaucratic hurdles that previously hindered quick, decisive action.

Campaigners warn, however, that implementation must be matched by robust training. Police officers, judges, and professionals must understand the nuances of coercive control and psychological abuse to apply the powers appropriately.

Nevertheless, these changes signal a long-overdue recognition of how domestic abuse operates in the real world—where silence is often survival and help must come from those watching, not just those suffering.

Featured image: New UK domestic abuse orders help victims. Source: cherryandbees / Adobe Stock.

New Research Shows Domestic Violence Often Starts with Isolation and Control

By
Samara Knight
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domestic violence isolation and control

When it comes to domestic violence, cases involving catastrophic physical violence are the ones that most often make it into the media.

But our new research shows there are often signs of trouble long before such tragic outcomes – before couples move in together or get married.

We asked a large group of women about how domestic violence (also known as intimate partner violence) they’d experienced had started and escalated.

A general pattern emerged. First came psychological abuse, then physical abuse, then sexual abuse.

So if women, health workers and others can recognise the signs of psychological abuse early on, there’s a chance to intervene before abusive behaviour progresses.

How does this relate to coercive control?

The types of psychological abuse women told us about indicate they’d experienced coercive control.

Coercive control is defined as a pattern of restrictive, manipulative and dominating behaviours used to undermine a partner’s autonomy and freedom. While it can occur in any type of relationship, it is most commonly perpetrated by men against women partners and is underpinned by inequitable gender roles and misogynistic attitudes.

Another way of describing coercive control is a pattern of behaviours that aim to prevent a partner from being in charge of their life. For instance, this could mean controlling who a partner can see, what they can wear, or where they can go. Or it could mean questioning a partner’s sanity when they raise concerns about abusive behaviour.

There’s been growing awareness of the impact of coercive control and domestic violence more broadly on women’s health and wellbeing. There’s also growing awareness that coercive control can escalate to catastrophic abuse against women and children, including homicide.

So, Australian states and territories have scrambled to tackle the issue legally. Queensland recently joined New South Wales in making coercive control a standalone criminal offence.

What we did and what we found

We wanted to know more about the progression of domestic violence and if there were key stages to intervene to help prevent the worst harms.

So we surveyed a nationally representative sample of 815 Australian women who had experienced domestic violence in the past five years and asked them to create a timeline of their relationship.

Women started with the earliest warning signs that something was wrong and then added what happened around important life events, such as moving in together, having children, seeking help or leaving. Women could describe their experiences in their own words.

When we analysed all the timelines together, we created a summary of the general sequence of abuse over time.

First, there were attacks to a survivor’s mind, then her physical body, then her sexual self.

Psychological abuse an early sign

Psychological abuse was present in almost all relationships early in the timeline. It usually emerged before moving in together or getting married.

The earliest indicator of abuse was being isolated from others, as one woman said: “He stopped me from talking to male colleagues.”

Controlling a woman’s day-to-day activities happened next. One survivor told us how her money and car were used against her: “He kept my belongings from me […] to prevent me from leaving.”

Then, as one woman said, there was other emotional abuse: “If I said anything he didn’t like, a brick wall would be erected […] I wouldn’t be spoken to for two to three days.”

Another said: “He called me crazy when he had done something wrong.”

On average, women told us physically abusive behaviours first appeared after a major life commitment, such as marriage or moving in together.

In general, sexual abuse by a partner first emerged after the psychological and physical abuse started.

For survivors who had a child during the relationship and whose partner was sexually abusive, the worst of that sexual violence generally came sometime after giving birth.

For many survivors, a growing concern about the impact of abuse on their children occurred around the same time as leaving their relationship and trying to get help.

What next?

This research sets out clear opportunities for prevention and early intervention.

We need to train health professionals to look for signs and ask about psychological abuse when their patients are contemplating life transitions. This includes raising awareness and targeted resources for staff working in pregnancy care.

Future research should see if these patterns of abuse apply in different diverse groups of survivors.

We also need better community education, particularly for young women, about the features of psychological abuse that occur early in relationships, before physical and sexual abuse.

As one participant told us: “More domestic violence campaigns should focus on emotional abuse. We focus so much on the physical, but I can feel immediately when I am hit. It takes longer to feel gaslighting, manipulation and other emotionally heavy abuse. It lingers with you. It alters the way you think and traps you far worse than the physical does”

This article, originally titled ‘‘He stopped me from talking to male colleagues’: new research shows how domestic violence so often starts with isolation and control’ by Elizabeth McLindon and Kelsey Hegarty was originally published on The Conversation and has been republished under a Creative Commons license.

Featured image: Domestic violence often starts with isolation and control. Source: AI generated / Adobe Stock.

Family Law Changes Will Better Protect Domestic Violence Victims – And Their Pets

By
Samara Knight
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domestic violence laws protect pets

Welcome changes to family law come into effect this week in Australia to better support victims of domestic violence in property settlements.

Importantly, the Family Law Amendment Bill 2024 will provide a new framework for determining ownership of the family pet in divorce and separation proceedings. Pets will no longer be recognised merely as property, but as “companion animals”.

Family law courts must now consider animal abuse, including threats to harm pets, when deciding which partner is awarded ownership.

Research suggests up to 15% of all animal cruelty cases involve domestic violence offending. Therefore, the new laws will provide some relief to partners whose beloved pets have suffered abuse.

Part of the family

Australia has high pet ownership, with 69% of households owning an animal companion. Some 48% have dogs and 33% have cats.

For victims of violence, the bond with their pet is very important for emotional support. Because of this attachment, abusers often target animals as one of the ways to control their victims.

Disturbing research has found animals living in violent households may be kicked, punched, held by their ears, thrown and poisoned. Injuries are common. Pets can be killed.

When a person experiences family violence in their home, they are often asked “Why don’t you just leave?” The reasons are complicated. Perpetrators of coercive control can make their victims fearful for their own safety and their children’s – and for the safety and wellbeing of their pets.

If victims do leave an abusive relationship, family pets are often left behind because it is too hard to find suitable accommodation. Also, the pet may be registered in the name of the abuser.

Court’s past view of pets

Previously, if a victim asked for ownership of their pet, courts could not consider the animal’s safety or wellbeing.

In Australian family law, pets were viewed as personal property, similar to other possessions such as cars, furniture and electronic equipment.

In any dispute about pets, courts would consider the following:

  • who paid for it?
  • was it a gift?
  • whose name is on the ownership documents?
  • who has possession?
  • who paid the expenses?

In deciding custody, courts were not thinking about where the pet would be out of harm’s way. Instead the focus was on who had the superior right to title, a common question in personal property law.

The safety and survival of a dog or cat was irrelevant in decision-making.

Hope on the horizon

Many Australians do not view pets as just another item of personal property. They see them as treasured family members who should be protected.

The amended Family Law Act redefines pets as companion animals, rather than as mere property. The shift recognises the deep emotional attachments between pets and their owners.

Any species of animal owned by a couple as a companion will be covered under the new sections of the Act. However, disputes in family law are more commonly about dogs.

When a marriage or de facto relationship breaks down, the court will consider any past cruelty towards a pet when deciding future ownership.

Matters for consideration will include:

  • was there family violence?
  • was there animal abuse, actual or threatened?
  • who has ownership or possession of the animal?
  • is there any attachment by an adult or child to the animal?
  • how much did each person in the household care for the animal?

Courts will only be able to assign ownership to one party. There will be no joint custody to prevent ongoing disputes over the ownership of the pet.

If an abused partner is confident they would be allowed to keep their companion animal if they leave a violent relationship, there is a greater chance they will seek safety.

If a victim has fled to accommodation where they cannot keep their pet, the new laws will allow for a court order to transfer the animal to another person. A safe person.

The sentience of animals – their ability to feel pain and fear – is still not recognised in Australian family law.

Nevertheless, this week’s changes should lead to large numbers of companion animals gaining protection from future abuse.

Financial abuse may constitute family violence

Other changes to family law also come in to force this week.

Family law courts must consider the economic effects of family violence on the victim when making decisions about property and finances after separation.

Critically, the definition of family violence is being broadened. It will now include economic or financial abuse-related conduct, such as sabotaging the victim’s employment, forcibly controlling their money or forcing them to go into debt.

Not paying child support for a long time might also count. Intentionally damaging a property to reduce its value will also be in the equation.

There will also be greater protections to prevent the misuse of sensitive information that arise from confidential conversations with healthcare professionals, or with specialist support services.

The property changes will apply to all new and existing proceedings, except where a final hearing has already commenced.

These reforms to better protect victim-survivors of family violence and the animals they love, are long overdue.

The article Family law changes will better protect domestic violence victims – and their pets by Meri Oakwood was originally published on The Conversation and has been republished under a Creative Commons license.

Featured image: New laws protect pets in domestic violence cases. Source: olezzo / Adobe Stock.

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