Love and Pain: Women Share Their Stories of Domestic Abuse

Every 40 minutes, a woman in Russia dies due to domestic violence, according to data from the Russian Ministry of Internal Affairs. The statistics on abuse in our country and abroad are so alarming that the only solace is that the issue is being discussed in the media more frequently. In 2016 alone, the #IAmNotAfraidToSay campaign brought to light hundreds of real incidents. Most importantly, victims are realizing that their traumatic experiences do not define who they truly are, offering hope for salvation.

We continue to explore the topic of abusive relationships through the personal stories of women who have endured this nightmare.

Julia, 29 years old

I lived with a man who subjected me to physical and emotional abuse for 12 months. A year of fear, hatred, self-pity, and endless justifications distorted my reality.

It started with him pushing me, shoving me, or even kicking me. Taking my keys or slamming the door when I wanted to leave became normal. When we started dating, I knew he was very insecure, carrying scars from past relationships. This helped me justify his jealousy and terrible behavior.

Sometimes in the evenings, he would get drunk and start calling me names, accusing me of things I hadn’t done. I endured his insults until he fell asleep. The next day, he would apologize, regret his words, but the cycle repeated itself.

I believed him every time, even though I knew it was a mistake and I should leave. The final straw was an incident that happened the day before my birthday.

He came home drunk, screamed at me, insulted me, humiliated me for hours, and then started hitting me. I managed to dodge, grabbed my phone to call the police, but he knocked it out of my hands, smashing it.

At that moment, I realized nothing would change. I felt it so strongly that my entire life flashed before my eyes. How could I let myself suffer so much? Why did I allow another person to abuse me for so long?

I turned to a close friend for help. She took me away from the house and ensured my safety. The ultimatum we gave him was simple: “Either you let her go, or I call the police.”

Therapy helped me understand that his behavior was not my fault. I needed to become stronger and learn to stand up against violence. Alcohol, mental disorders, and simply jerk behavior stayed with my ex-partner, and I didn’t have to carry that burden with him. Today, I still see a psychologist, spend a lot of time with friends who help me become stronger, and feel that I am a great person, and my traumas do not define me.

From this horrific experience, I learned the most important lesson: I deserve better.

Veronica, 33 years old

The worst thing in my life is that I was married to a man who emotionally destroyed me. The tendencies towards abusive behavior appeared even when we were just dating. And I still married him. I knew he was terrible in his anger, but I hoped it would change or that I would change and then leave.

The situation became clear when we started living together. He would come home from work and yell at me for doing everything wrong or for doing nothing at all. After half an hour, he would act as if nothing had happened, leaving me confused.

I literally walked on eggshells, constantly afraid of disappointing him.

One day, I couldn’t take it anymore and told him it was over. I packed my things and went to live with a friend. My husband called me, wrote touching messages, and eventually convinced me to return. He swore he had changed, realized how much he had hurt me, and that his behavior was unacceptable. Naturally, my heart wavered because we are not enemies; we love each other. At that time, it was hard for me to believe that such cruelty could hide behind this bright feeling.

I returned. For a while, he did change: he was gentle, caring, even romantic. He never laid a hand on me, but the time spent together allowed him to devise a more sophisticated tactic of abuse. He started controlling me. He made all the decisions concerning both of us, never asked what I thought or wanted, and when I spoke up, he ignored me. One day, I heard him say:

I am the man here, so it’s my job to set the rules and give orders. You must obey me because you are my wife now.

That same day, I made an appointment with a psychotherapist. Thanks to therapy and communication with loved ones, I found the strength to stand up for myself when my husband tried to put me in my place. I was ashamed to complain to friends, tell my parents about my problems, and even scared to call any authorities that could help me as a victim of abuse.

Few people take emotional abuse seriously. When I talk about what happened, it sounds as if I am to blame: I didn’t leave when I realized my husband was a tyrant, I endured it, I didn’t re-educate him. But that’s nonsense! Am I to blame for the way he treats people like objects? Don’t I deserve normal human happiness? And what about him? What about a person who lives in a relationship and constantly feels the need to control and humiliate?

I pity my husband because I love him. After my husband met resistance from me, he suggested we divorce. It was unbearable to realize that it was the end for us, that nothing could be fixed, but I agreed. It’s scary to be alone, but it’s even scarier to live your whole life in fear that one day his behavior will cross all boundaries, and if we have children, they will have to bear this burden too. These thoughts helped me leave.

Now I live alone, work, and travel a lot to forget this nightmare, find new meaning, and experiences that could heal my soul. I know nothing about how my ex-husband lives, and I don’t want to know.

Antonina, 24 years old

My boyfriend and I broke up a few months ago. I am a girl with limited physical abilities, and so is he, so we quickly found a common language and started dating soon after.

At first, everything was perfect: romance, care, he seemed like the one — the guy for life. I was on cloud nine. But soon, sex became more important to him than just spending time together. I have always been honest and openly talked to him about my views on intimacy. Due to the peculiarities of my body, I constantly feel insecure, which prevents me from being free in sex. For me, all this faded into the background, and feelings and emotional closeness became the most important. At the beginning of our relationship, my boyfriend was understanding of my insecurity and even tried to do something special to help me relax, but soon he started accusing me of not wanting to have sex, calling me frigid, and threatening to rape me. He said my love was a pretense because I couldn’t prove it in bed. He didn’t notice how much I loved him outside of it, and it hurt me deeply.

I broke up with him because I couldn’t bear the accusations and accept the fact that I was just a body to him. It still hurts to remember the past because my feelings haven’t faded, but I want to believe that somewhere nearby there is a person who will accept me as I am and won’t manipulate my feelings to suit their desires.

Nadezhda, 32 years old

When I was 28, I met a man who attended the same church as me. A year later, we got married. Everything was like a fairy tale. We were united by faith, the desire to create our own family, and many common interests.

The first time he hit me in the face was when we were still engaged. The reason for his anger was the dinner I had prepared, which he didn’t like.