Finding the strength to choose myself

Content warning: this blog post discusses intimate partner violence, from the perspective of the person who experienced it. Please look after yourself as you read through this piece, and remember, the helpline is available to provide support 24/7. Call or webchat any time. 

In 2019, I let go of someone I loved deeply to look after my own mental health. I am a 5ft 11, 150 kg Samoan lesbian, and at the time this story started, I was 20 years old. Now in my 30s and happily married, I reflect on my life with my instilled Samoan values and kind-hearted nature, recognising I have lived through some very upsetting situations.

In 2014, while living in the UK with family, I met a woman who had a 10-month-old baby, and we quickly moved in together. Her daughter brought me immense joy, becoming like my own. While I wanted to settle down, my partner was more interested in partying. I stayed home with the baby while she went out, which was fine initially. However, her drinking worsened, and she often didn't come home. My love for our daughter kept me around, despite the growing tension.

One night, after an argument with her ex, she was so intoxicated that community patrol had to intervene. When I tried to take her home, she punched me repeatedly, saying she didn't love me. Even though it had become normal for her to talk down to me, I was shocked because this was the first time her abuse turned physical. I had never thought she would hit me. Though I was stronger and the physical pain was minor, I realise now that being in a relationship where violence and abuse became ‘normal’ had a very serious emotional impact on me.

Our relationship became more of a partnership to raise our child, with no romance or love, but still filled with jealousy and anger. After three years, during another argument, she called me from a man's house. Our fight turned physical, again. But for the first time, I pushed her and defended myself. This was awful for me, completely against my values, and I broke down. I had never retaliated before. It is not who I am, and it is not part of my cultural upbringing.  She was very shocked and apologised, suggesting we move to New Zealand to escape her toxic behavior.

This was the first time she had ever acknowledged her behavior towards me so of course I was quick to believe and accept her apology, hoping for a fresh start. My family did not know about her abuse.

With my family’s support, we moved to New Zealand, filled with excitement. However, she began manipulating me, convincing me I had a strange relationship with my siblings and should distance myself from them. She tried to make me feel like it wasn’t normal to have loving, close relationships with my siblings, or talk to them every day and like hanging out with them. Her pressure worked, and I slowly stopped spending time with them. She then started to manipulate my family, telling lies or trying to make trouble, causing a giant divide that is still being mended today 6 years on. Her mental abuse extended to them without any of us realising. She also belittled me in front of our friends and work colleagues.

One night, after yet another drunken outing, she bit and kicked me while I drove us home. The abuse continued until she passed out after more drinking. I left to stay with my parents and refused to return until she was sober. Despite her gaslighting, I eventually forgave her but knew something had to change. Being able to spend time alone with my parents and siblings, away from her behaviour, convinced me that I deserved better. 

Finally, I put my foot down, demanding she stop drinking, but it was too toxic to fix. She decided to return to the UK, taking our daughter with her. Saying goodbye to the child I raised for five years was heartbreaking, but I couldn’t return to the UK with no family to support me. She promised to stay in touch but soon cut off all communication and blocked me on everything. She even took out a loan in my name.

Reflecting back, I realised that not retaliating or telling anyone about my ex’s violence was partly about my non-violent nature and my Pacific upbringing, teaching me not to disrupt others’ happiness. Today, I understand I deserve better and that cutting ties with my abusive partner likely saved my mental health and maybe even my life, despite losing all contact with my daughter.

One of the biggest things I learned is no matter how embarrassing or petty you think it is, your family will never judge you. Tell them what is going on in your life. I felt like if I told my family about the abuse, they would laugh because I am big, and it sounds unbelievable. But when I finally gained the courage to tell them, they supported me through it all. This strengthened my relationship with them, and I now have a strong support system who accept me for who I am.

If any of this story has resonated with you, either for your own experience or that of someone you know, please reach out. You deserve to be loved, you deserve to be respected and you deserve to have autonomy and control of your own life. The team on the Are You OK helpline can support you, from trying to unpick what you’re experiencing, right through to helping you to navigate support systems. Call or webchat any time.