Ellie
I thought I would find peace within our relationship together, but the man that I initially met didn’t exist.
I was already carrying a lot of weight on my shoulders when I met him. I had struggled with my mental health for a long time. I thought I would find peace within our relationship together, but the man that I initially met didn’t exist.
I was 16, working full-time and lockdown due to COVID-19 was just around the corner. I was so young and so blinded by love that I chose to stay with him and his family during lockdown instead of my own. I had family struggles for a long time before meeting him, and he and his family took advantage of that; after a couple of months, they began saying things to me such as, “We’re the ones helping you, not your mum, not your dad,” and “your family don’t care about you like we do.”
The first signs were small, like him knowing my phone password and then having his Face ID on my phone, so he was able to access my phone at all times. This led to him opening my phone during the night to look through my friends on Snapchat and Facebook and then my messages. He deleted some of my friends that I had known for about five years or longer because they were male. He told me men only wanted one thing with me, and I believed it.
‘He would order me what time to be home, and God forbid I stayed out later than midnight.’
I started an apprenticeship in hair, and I worked full-time in a salon while doing this . By this point, I didn’t really have many friends; He would say that my friends weren’t good for me and were misleading if they invited me out to drink etc. Eventually, I cut off my last best friend for him because I knew it’d happen again, so isolated almost entirely myself for ease in the relationship and to avoid more arguments.
My head was filled with lies, manipulation and gaslighting, which I believed to be reality. I truly believed that the world was against me and him. For my 18th birthday, the girls at the salon organised a night out; he wouldn’t stop texting me and asking when I would be home and telling me not to get into trouble, to which my colleagues took my phone because they said it wasn’t right for him to keep texting consistently while I was trying to enjoy my birthday.
I was very intoxicated by the time I got home. I remember an argument happening because I told him I bumped into an old friend while out. He was male.
The manipulation got worse over time, and so did the gaslighting. He would tell me things such as if I stayed at my colleague’s house that night after a night out with them, then he would leave me, and this terrified me because, in my eyes, he was all I had left. He would order me what time to be home, and God forbid I stayed out later than midnight.
‘He told me I shouldn’t be going to others for help with our relationship and if I had any troubles, I should go to him or his mother.’
He told me I shouldn’t be going to others for help with our relationship and if I had any troubles, I should go to him or his mother, so I did. She never responded to the comments I made about her son hitting me or how he made me feel small, insecure and hurt.
I felt trapped and started to believe that I was in the wrong.
We had only been together for two years, but now we were arguing every day about small, inconvenient things. He would yell at me inches away from my face through gritted teeth. His ocean blue eyes turned into black stormy clouds, “you did this to us,” he’d say, “You’ve made me crazy,” “Everything’s always about you,” “you’re delusional, and you don’t love me, and you don’t care,” the gaslighting, manipulation and hurt just carried on.
But I was terrified to leave. I’d tried before, and it hadn’t worked; somehow, he always seemed to worm his way back into my good books.
I packed my bags.
But I was terrified to leave. I’d tried before, and it hadn’t worked; somehow, he always seemed to worm his way back into my good books.
It took me a week and an argument to say, “I’m done! I’m going back home!”
He threw my bag across the floor, breaking a photo frame and my DSLR Canon camera. Then, when I tried to make a run for it, he locked the door. I took my phone out, and he snatched it away. Now, I was trapped. I begged him to let me leave, but he refused.
The ordeal went on and on, I just wanted to get out. My body was aching; my head was pounding. He was yelling in my face, spitting through gritted teeth, and he was so angry. I just wanted to live.
I needed to get out.
I felt like I could pass out.
“I need water,” I stuttered, “please…”
I begged as I fell to the floor in pieces. And he did. He got me water, and I drank it, and I told him “I will leave, I need to.”
His fire started up again.
“No,” I cried and sobbed, “I can’t keep doing this, let me leave,” I was screaming and crying and I shocked myself. I went into survival mode.
I snatched my phone back, ran past him and locked myself in the bathroom.
He was banging on the door and I was shaking uncontrollably but I managed to get my dad on the other end of the phone, “hello?”
“Dad, come and get me, please! Please, dad, please!” I begged while sobbing,
“I’m on my way sweetie, okay? I’m coming right now!” He said.
It was April of the year 2022. It snowed as I waited for my dad to pick me up. It was so cold.
Snow can symbolise purity, forgiveness, and divine cleansing. It was my day to rid myself of this once and for all. And I never looked back.
Looking for help or someone to talk to? Visit our Support Page – we’re here for you!
Your voice matters, sharing your story as a young survivor of domestic abuse can make a huge difference to others going through similar stuff. When you speak up anonymously, it can be a real comfort to someone feeling isolated. Your privacy is totally protected, so you can share without any worries at all. This is a safe space just for you to open up and make a difference without any fear.
Do you have a story to tell? Email LoveRespect@womensaid.org.uk
Matilda D’s Story
When I was 16, a girl I knew told me that James – a boy I’d never met – was “obsessed” with me. I took it as a massive compliment.
We met up twice on the same weekend. He was 17. I remember thinking, “This is how relationships must be.” Two weeks later, he said he loved me. He told me he’d seen me on the bus months before, and that he’d gone home to write poems about me. It was a whirlwind.
