It was 9.15 in the morning. I’d dropped my son off at nursery and popped back home to finish getting ready for work as a mental health community support worker at the local hospital.
The night before, we had been to couples counselling for the first time. He turned up with a notepad, ready to question the counsellor about what I needed to do to make the relationship work. She told him to put the notebook away. The session did not go well; he basically told the counsellor everything that I was doing wrong. At the time our son was 34 months old.
When we got home, we argued. By the morning, things were still very precarious, as they often were. He left for work with the expectation that we would talk about it when he got home. Read that as “I will tell you what you need to do”.
Not able to let things go he called me on his way to work. He was determined to speak to me - to tell me what was wrong with me, again. He called the home phone. I ignored it initially, partly because I needed to get ready for work. He called again. This time I couldn’t answer because I was in the bathroom.
He started shouting, almost screaming down the answerphone: “Pick up, pick up! If you don’t pick up the phone now, I’m going to turn this car around and come to your work.” It was in that moment I knew enough was enough.
I contacted the domestic abuse support worker. The police had contacted them before Christmas after the last major incident – the neighbours had called them. Alice reached out, we chatted and she told me that there was a room available in a local women’s refuge. At the time, I hadn’t felt ready. This time, I was.
Alice told me they had a place had become available that morning. That was the moment I decided to leave. I grabbed what I could and put it in the car, shaking, in case he turned around and came back anyway. I phoned him back and told him I hadn’t answered because I was in the bathroom. I kept things calm so he would continue to work.
Once I knew it was safe, I packed what I needed, drove to the refuge, and then went back to collect my son from nursery. I didn’t tell my son what was happening, I told him that we were going on an adventure. We sang and played eye spy on the way to the refuge. I visibly saw him relax, even though he was in a strange place.
That night, sitting in a small room with my son, the relief I felt was huge - there are no words for it. It was quiet. No shouting. No tension……
Just peace.
My son wasn’t covering his ears anymore and saying, “Daddy, stop shouting at mummy.”
This was 18 years ago, and the start of another journey in my life into the unknown. Did I doubt my decision? Absolutely. I had no idea where I was going and what I was going to do. Work let me take the rest of the week off before I went back to work, to continue to support others with their own mental health struggles.
I had support in the refuge, but Alice could see that I was strong enough to plan and put into action most of what I needed to do. I couldn’t see my strength at the time, and I was so grateful to have had her to talk things through.
We spent 4 weeks there before my son and I moved into our own rented house.
Looking back, I realise that leaving was not just a step into safety, but the beginning of reclaiming my confidence and sense of self. The journey wasn’t easy – there were days filled with uncertainty and moments of doubt, yet every small achievement felt enormous.
If you are reading this and facing your own struggle, please know you are not alone. There is help out there, from refuges to support workers and police, and from friends who will listen. Reaching out can feel daunting, but it’s often the first step towards a calmer, safer life. Today, my son and I have found peace. We continue to heal, and I am grateful for the strength I found, and the kindness that carried us through.
No matter how uncertain the future may seem, taking that first step away from abuse can open doors to hope, recovery, and a life filled with the possibility of joy. Your story matters, and there is a brighter tomorrow ahead.
You’re not alone in this. If you’re ready to begin your healing journey after an abusive relationship, I can support you with counselling and EFT tapping, so you can move forward with clarity and confidence. Reach out when you’re ready—together, we’ll take the next step towards a brighter, safer future.
Contact details for information and support online.
Refuge, the UK's largest specialist domestic abuse organisation
Homepage - National Domestic Abuse Helpline
STOP DOMESTIC ABUSE Havant, Hampshire