Louise's Story
Survivor's stories
Through a woman’s eyes: Embracing Change after domestic abuse
would anything really ever change?
When I first learnt my ex-partner was attending Crossroads, I felt a mix of relief and scepticism. Part of me was grateful that, for once, he’d have to face up to the issues that had pushed us into such a dark place. Hearing the truth from professionals, not just me, gave me hope he might finally listen. This was his second time on the programme, I couldn’t help but wonder, would anything really ever change?
My hopes have always been reserved - I always felt doubt. Alcohol was his biggest demon, he claimed to be sober but also admitted he’d never tell me if he relapsed. How could I ever trust him when lies had become second nature? When he thought there was a chance of getting back together, he’d act sweeter, send declarations of love, but when faced with the truth, conflict exploded. Now, I hear less from him, which brings a sense of peace, but deep down I think he’s not doing this for change he’s doing it to be with me. If we had stayed together, I don’t think he would have ever changed.
Safety and Well-Being
Moving into my own place was a turning point. I finally feel safe, no more shouting echoes through my home, and I know he won’t turn up unannounced. Before, I was constantly anxious, afraid to make a move. Now, I can lock the door, breathe easy, and embrace the quiet. But the cost is exhaustion. I do everything myself, and the weight sometimes feels unbearable. My well-being has highs and lows, I’m happier without the chaos, yet more tired and stretched thin. Our son still ties us together, and the stress never truly leaves.
Healing and Moving Forward
I want to heal, to step into therapy and reclaim myself. But the process feels endless until his contact is managed and there’s a clear plan. The scars run deep, making me wary of ever opening my heart again, especially around my son. I refuse to risk his safety or mine on another chance.
The Impact on Children: My Constant Worry
My son hasn’t seen his dad for a month, supervised visits just don’t happen. If he drinks when he’s there, I won’t know, he’s too young to understand or articulate what’s wrong. My greatest fear is he’ll internalise his dad’s behaviour, that addiction will seem normal, and the cycle will repeat. I want more for him, more stability, more love, more understanding and I worry he’ll end up disconnected and blaming others, just as I did after years of being separated from my own father.
What Accountability Truly Means
For me, accountability isn’t just saying sorry. It’s owning your mistakes, making lasting changes, and showing up through your actions, especially as a parent. He needs to accept his problems, prove he’s sober, and give our son the consistency he deserves. Real change would be giving him a stable home, where I know he’s safe and loved, not repeating the painful separation I endured as a child.
Lessons Not Learned Soon Enough
I wish he’d been honest about his anger and addiction from the start. The journey to change began too late, when I was already pregnant, already fighting through the aftermath. His attempts to drink less always backfired, leaving me to pick up the pieces. Now, he tries, but it’s too little, too late. I’ve learnt to survive on my own.
Messages That Matter: What Needs to Be Heard
If I could send a message for any man in his position, it would be simple - your choices, your behaviour, and your substance use ripple outwards, hurting the people who care about you and shaping the lives of your children. It becomes a cycle. Abuse, addiction, and pain passed down like a cursed inheritance. Breaking it demands real accountability and change, not empty gestures or excuses.
Imagining a Better Campaign
I find it hard to believe a poster alone can change minds, but if there’s a message, it should centre on family, the impacts of alcohol, behaviour, and the cycle of harm. Men need to see how their choices shape futures, fracture relationships. Anything to make them stop and think is a good thing, it could save families from the pain me and my children endured.
Surviving the Harm and Seeking Hope
Abuse feels like walking on eggshells, never free to be yourself, always watching what you say. Real change comes from consistent, lasting behaviour without ulterior motives or rewards expected. If you are not changing because of the value you see in your family and wanting to respect and protect them, then what are you changing for? Hope is a healthy co- parenting relationship, where concerns are heard, not met with abuse, and where our son gets the best version of his father. Someone loving, kind, a safe place, something all dads should be.
Final Reflections: Reaching Out, Speaking Up
Today, what stands out is how little responsibility he’s ever taken. Not once has he admitted his wrongs, not to me, nor to anyone else. If those around him understood the harm that has been caused, maybe things would be different.
To women in my situation I would say never ignore that first feeling of fear. Don’t brush it aside. There are people you can talk to, and services exist even if they’re not well known. To those working with men, I would say remind them that no one is above accountability. My ex saw himself as better than others, never realising he was part of the same problem, doing the same things.
Change is possible, but only when those causing harm face up to their actions. My journey has been painful but sharing it is my way of shining a light, of breaking the silence, and of offering hope that cycles can be broken, one honest conversation at a time.
If you recognise yourself or somebody you know in Louise’s story, help and support is available. Call the freephone, 24-hour National Domestic Abuse Helpline 0808 2000 247 or visit www.nationaldahelpline.org.uk If you are in immediate danger, call 999 and ask for the police. If you can’t speak, press 55 on your mobile or remain silent on your landline while the operator is on the line.