‘I know what it is never to feel safe’

Domestic violence doesn't just cause physical hurts, says author and campaigner Natasha Devon - we need to tackle the mental toll, too.

A woman shields her head

by Natasha Devon |
Updated on

What does it mean to be ‘safe’? The most basic definition might be ‘free from the threat of physical harm’, but it runs deeper than that.

Safety is knowing you can say what’s on your mind without fear of disproportionate consequence. It’s the liberty to be yourself, to breathe out, to know you are amongst people who accept you unconditionally and want the best for you. It’s recognising that you can trust those you have shared your secrets with not to use them to deliberately cause you distress. It’s the assurance that comes from sharing unconditional intimacy - the psychological equivalent of taking your bra off at the end of a long day. Safety is the right to just BE. It’s how the lucky among us feel when we are at home.

To experience this kind of safety shouldn’t be a luxury. In fact, when it comes to our mental health, it’s the most basic of human needs. So, it shouldn’t surprise us that, according to the latest research by Women’s Aid, nearly half (45.6%) of women in domestic abuse refuges say they experience poor mental health, including depression and suicidal thoughts. Constantly treading on eggshells, doubting yourself, feeling like every word you say or action you take has the potential to detonate an emotional bomb will inevitably take its toll and the ramifications can be felt long after a person has been moved to an environment where they are physically ‘safe’.

Nearly half of women in domestic abuse refuges say they experience poor mental health, including depression and suicidal thoughts

I know this for two reasons. Firstly, because I have spent time volunteering in domestic abuse refuges. One of my best friends was in what was clearly a coercive and damaging relationship at the time but, as is often the case, the more I tried to intervene the more entrenched she became in her views that only she understood her abuser and that his behaviour came from a place of love. After spending several sleepless nights enduring washing-machine style worries (the ones that loop around and around in your head relentlessly) I decided to try and channel my anxiety into something productive and donated my time to mentor survivors to help build their confidence.

What struck me most about the women in these refuges was their emotional intelligence. They were some of the wisest, most empathetic people I’d ever met - the types of friends you’d defer to for relationship advice over a glass of rose, in different circumstances. But, of course, with empathy comes a propensity for buying into the narratives of others and doubting what your gut is telling you. It’s these types of people abusers tend to seek out.

Many of them told me the physical violence they had experienced was almost a relief – a punch, a kick and the resulting bruises being a physical manifestation of the tensions in their home – something that was at least tangible. The gaslighting and emotional manipulation, they said, was worse. By denying their version of reality and making them question their own experiences, abusers have the ability to make their victims feel unsafe in their own heads.

The second reason this issue resonates with me is because, like approximately 1 in 5 women in the UK, I have personal experience. I have to be careful, here. The terms of a harassment order I have against the perpetrator of my abuse means I can’t be too specific about the details. All I can tell you is that I know what it is like to live your life in a state of hyperalert. I know what it’s like to dedicate hours to second-guessing what is happening in another person’s head and berating yourself for not having the ability make it better. I know what it is never to feel safe.

I know what it is like to live your life in a state of hyperalert. I know what it’s like to dedicate hours to second-guessing what is happening in another person’s head

That’s why I’ll be following and supporting Women’s Aid’s new campaign: Deserve to be Heard. It aims not only to highlight the impact of domestic abuse on mental health, but to ensure government funding for domestic abuse services includes provision for specialist psychological support. Survivors have reported that the current system isn’t meeting their needs – They’re often referred to generic services, which tend to have little understanding of the complex and long-lasting impacts of domestic abuse on mental health.

Today, I am fortunate that both myself and my friend are safe – in every sense - in our own homes. Yet, years later, we are each still working through our lasting trauma. We can rehome survivors and do everything we can to ensure no harm will come to their bodies but how many, I wonder, remain unsafe in their minds?

To find out more about Deserve to be Heard go to womensaid.org.uk/all-survivors-deserve-to-be-heard

READ MORE: There's Been A 60% Rise In Calls To A Domestic Abuse Helpline Since The Pandemic Began

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