If you are a male victim of family violence - domestic violence, violence from other family members, child abuse, elder abuse, sexual assault, or other forms of family violence and abuse - this page is available for you to tell your anonymous story. Please click here to tell your own story. If you feel like you need support, please click here. Stories are moderated to prevent the posting of spam, so it might take a little while for your story to appear on this page.




Back in the 90's I was seeing a girl after high school in what was my first real relationship. After a year or so I began to notice strange behaviour, like staying out all night without letting anyone know, doing drugs secretly and so forth.

I soon started to hear talk of her infidelity on repeated occasions, people blaming it on her work in hospitality and my being on the road as a professional musician for a few days a week. One night I decided to calmly broach the subject while we were sitting alone after a friend's party up the street. She immediately began coming on to me, hot and heavy and said she'd make me forget all about it. I refused her advances as I wanted to know where we stood. She flipped out (this was a regular occurrence if I refused her advances) and ran outside. I foolishly followed her into the street. Unable to find her I began to worry. I was then bathed in the glow of her car headlights as she started the car, and proceeded to run into me, damaging both of my knees and my back. We split up not long afterwards as the truth came to light about how extensive her cheating and drug use was.

To this day I still have trouble sleeping and walking due to the physical pain of my injuries.



My story is very similar to others that I have read. My Father, who was a kind, gentle person, was hit, stabbed and attacked in any form from my Mother. She was an aggressive person and would virtually attack anyone if she thought that they had crossed her. My Father had many scars on his back and arms, but credit to him he never, ever laid a finger on her. When these frequent attacks took place, my Father would escape out of the house and stay away for many hours. Of course not been able to take her aggressiveness out of my Dad, she would then attack me. My childhood was appalling, and I grew up hating my Mother. Even though my Mother is now dead I still cannot forgive her. My Father eventually left my Mother and lived on his own until his death.

I just wanted to speak out about men caught up in domestic violence, and as a woman I also have suffered through domestic violence, and see a great need for men and woman everywhere to have a place to go and have counselling and support. . Of course this was not available during my Father's time – nor mine.

Not too many people are aware of how some men suffer at the hands of their loved ones. Hopefully the Government will see a need for men and women caught up in domestic violence and take appropriate action.

Thank you for letting me tell this story.



Fortunately, I have an incredibly supportive and loving wife and a deeply, mutually respectful relationship.

My father wasn't so lucky.

My childhood is predominantly filled with memories of a good, honourable, simple man being belted from one end of the house to the other. Taught "never to hit a woman," every night we could see the confusion on his face and he tried desperately to protect himself.

Limited to grabbing and pushing her away, she would inevitably land a few punches... if he managed to protect himself, she would go get a knife, or a vase, or a meat tenderiser. Looking back it amazes me how common place we viewed these very serious weapons.

Sometimes he would lock himself in the bathroom... she would belt and kick on the door for hours upon hours while my sisters and I hid in fear.

Other times she would pretend to have "calmed down" until he was sitting reading or watching TV, then sneak up behind him and start punching him in the back of the head. Or her favourite, waiting until he was asleep then sneak up and start punching him.

When I started showing signs of manhood, she started on me. Verbal abuse only at first... then pushing... then, as she screamed at me one night while I lay in bed pretending to be asleep, I felt a blinding, searing smash across my face. Her fist. I felt, only once, what my father had been feeling for years.

Dad immediately stepped in... mostly I just saw him frustrated and sad, this time he was angry... I realised that the question my sisters and I had asked over and over again, "why does he stay" had been answered... to protect us.

He grabbed her and dragged her from my room before she could land a second punch on me. He told her that if she ever hit either of us kids again he would fight back... I guess that was his breaking point. She must have realised he meant it... because she picked up a big, heavy blue glass vase and swung it at his head.

As blood poured everywhere, as held his head and fell to the ground, as I raced to dial 000, I heard those words that still ring in my ears "my God, you've done it this time Judy, you've finally killed me".

Fortunately we got him to the ER in time, he was saved. We got home at 5am, at 6:30 I left for school for my final years exams... 1/4 out of 60. I failed, and flunked out of school.

It has taken my sisters and I decades to get over what we saw. It destroyed our family, it destroyed our lives.

I have deep sympathy for anyone going through this at the moment... but if you are going through this you need to gather evidence. No one will believe you, no one believed my Dad. You need to get your children out. You need to get out. Even if your kids are being used against you (as we were initially against Dad) they will see the truth eventually. But they need to be protected, you need to protect them... and you can't do that by staying in a violent situation.



I am sitting here at 11pm after another pointless, aggressive argument. I live in fear each and every day, not for me but for the mental health of my 9 year old son. My partner has been abusive really from the very beginning, about 10 years we have been together, she fell pregnant very early on and gave birth to a fantastic boy, though this is when the anger started, towards the baby! screaming at him, accusing him of kicking her deliberately, of taunting her? I was the one who nursed him to sleep at night,fed him, to this day she has never bought him so much as an item of clothing. maybe this was post natal depression? I mentioned it to our GP who interviewed her, he got back to me, laughed and said no way she was wonderful. This was when I started to have doubts about her mental stability, her ability to lie and manipulate people into believing her, (I was one of those people, being told about all her past abusive and physical violent relationships, previous boyfriends and even an abusive father) I now do not believe any of it, I think in each case they threw her out to get out of the domestic violence SHE was instigating, I know this because I too have now become a victim. there are now 7 separate holes in my house walls, I have been kicked and slapped, constantly yelled at, doors slammed onto me, accused of all sorts of things, including hitting my son, where she called police, docs, paradise kids centacare, the school principal, and could not wait to tell me about it when I got home, it was like she was only happy if there was an issue going on, unable to live what I would call a normal happy life. (I have never hit my son, a misjudged rumble one afternoon caught him off guard and he was winded, this is what started all the reporting) interestingly we constantly argue about her hitting him all the time? Every fathers day, Christmas, my birthday or simply a special event for me she seems to sabotage it. Always a massive argument, I am slowly learning to just not come home or be in a room where she is not, yet this does not always work, tonight is a classic example. I am off tomorrow with a best mate to Cairns, a 5am wakeup to take me to the airport, I asked her to make sure our son was in bed at 7.30 because of the early start and still a school day, I went to sleep. I awoke at 9.15pm, she was playing on the computer, he was playing cars, I mentioned that he should be in bed, well instant yelling, I rang dad to see if he could take me to the airport, the phone got ripped out of my hand, thrown objects, old arguments immediately brought up, name calling, I went downstairs to say goodbye to my son, she ran off in the street yelling Help, Help, someone help me? at least my father was on the phone and heard what went on. she took our son away and drove off to her other house (I asked her to leave 4 months ago when she cracked my head open on a door, putting my foot down and saying she must leave, that this is not a house with domestic violence, though she still comes to my house every day, eats here four times a week at least) I did not say goodbye to my son, what is he thinking at this point, I don't dare go over there for fear of more screaming and abuse. I am depressed and came on line searching for options, my holiday is ruined, I wont be able to relax. All I want is a happy son and I am starting to see cracks appear in him.

How many men are in the shadows falling apart with no-one there to see, no support and feeling guilt that we failed as a partner and as a father. I know its not my fault but where to now?

At least I'm feeling a little better after writing this and reading all the stories here, I am not alone, and that helps in a small way.



My ex and I were not together for very long, only about 6 months. She was 19 and I was 24 when we met. She was a small girl. 5'1 and around 50kg (I'm 5'7 and around 85-90kg), but her behaviour was like night and day. When she was having a good time, she was the most amazing person to be around. We had EVERYTHING in common.

But then suddenly, she would just change. She would get really quiet. I would ask her what was wrong, and she would start to get snappy, and then (since I was always at her place) she would tell me to just leave. Whether it was 5pm, or 3am, she would ask, so I would. I loved this girl, and I didnt want to make the situation worse, so I would. That's when it would start. The screaming, the punching, the kicking, spitting, biting, it was very violent. One time, I was kicked downstairs at full force, another time, she bit my nipple so hard she drew blood. If i was unlucky, I would get out of the house, she would follow me, and continue to verbally abuse me. And the stuff she would say is something nobody should have to hear.

It was mean, hurtful, and I believed every word she said, because I loved her. She would always go off on a tangent, and eventually decide to start walking the streets, in whatever she was wearing, in a very "uncivil" part of town. Sometimes, she would be in nothing more than a basketball jersey, or it was always a very short, revealing dress. So I would always worry, and stay with her, and eventually calm her down and get her home, knowing she was safe.

A lot of times, she would demand we go home and have sex. So I can prove that I loved her. I always refused, and explained to her that because I was so upset and couldn't even think of performing. That's when she would tell me I wasn't a man, and how pathetic I was.

I lost my job because she self harmed herself, she blamed me, I was the one who found her, and I took 2 days unpaid off work to care for her after it happened. I've alienated my friends and family.

The worst part is, I feel like I can't talk to anyone about it, because I know I will be judged, and ridiculed, because she is the "perfect" girl around everyone else. It's been 6 months since we broke up, and I still find myself unable to move on because of what I went through. I no longer have confidence in myself emotionally, physically or sexually.