TELL YOUR STORY

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.

PERSONAL STORIES FROM MALE VICTIMS OF FAMILY VIOLENCE AND ABUSE

Friday
Jan162015

Drew

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.

Friday
Jan162015

Esam

I am a man I am 25 years. I suffered from sexual assault at the age of 10. Four years ago almost, one person tell people incident of sexual assault. Last year I was in the university. I finished my studies with difficulty. I was friendly, I had many friends. Most people know me in the city (my city is small).

But after that my friends left me. If I walk with anyone, the people look at him, and sometimes they tell him "how can you walk or talk with this person?". They want me vanish. I can not get any chance to work. I can not walk in the street. My community treats me racist. My family want to get rid of me. Dealing with the community and my family is very difficult.

I was working Internet Marketing but my brother made them package me. He does not want me get the money. Two years ago, I went to another city, I worked in a hotel receptionist, the work was good. Two months later, a man from my city, he told them about me. I can not continue because of harassment from employees and management. I quit.

I have  bachelor's degree, I looked for a job and did not accept me. Even if I got a job I can not continue in this community. If I want go to the market, everyone look up and down at me, I can not stay 5 minutes in the market or any public place. Always thinking "run away to anywhere no one knows me".

They want me to commit suicide. But I do not want. Also I can not live sometimes in the home. They do not let me sleep. In fact, I do not feel I am a human. They look to me as a metamorphosis, freak. My family  treat me as a person stinking and sometimes as a slave. I'm scared to death, from my family. Every day I thinking what they will do in the next day. They torment me. I can not trust anyone. My hope is always disappoint. I suffer from psychological problems. Even the psychiatrist in my community is racist. I do not no what I can do.

Friday
Jan162015

John

It is great to have these stories. We need change. I will probably never have a long term relationship again, but not because of physical violence, instead because of financial abuse. Like so many guys I have talked to, when we get screwed out of all the money (we do all the work and she just free loads and then takes all the money) we think what is the point of working. Because of this many guys live in the bush or in a caravan and earn just enough to survive. The females miss out too. No guys want a relationship and the girls have to settle for buying a cat. This cycle has been brought about by the legal system and is now in the attitudes of society. I understand many will think this is a lame complaint, however it needs addressing too.

Monday
Nov242014

Tony

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, 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 online 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 it's 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.

Monday
Nov242014

Flynn

Firstly, thank you to all the brave souls that have told their stories here.

I found this site whilst at work and I almost broke down in tears reading some of the nightmares that people have lived through and for how long. I was in an abusive relationship for 2 years and the impact it has had on my life is profound. I am forever thankful that it lasted no longer than it did and that we brought no children into the world.

I remember clearly the first act of physical violence my girlfriend unleashed on me. It was whilst watching the bloody royal wedding. She threw her iPhone into my face, full force from 2 meters away. She always claimed that it was an accident, that she didn't mean to hit me but I knew, I had seen her face as she threw it. The rage and anger that had distorted her face had sprung up out of nowhere and it was a face that I would see many times over in the years to come. On this occasion it was over unfounded jealousy and booze. I was lucky in that this was the only time she connected with my face and the only time I had to go to hospital, although it wasn't for lack of trying. She threw full bottles of wine at my head, plates, glasses, remote controls: anything at hand.

A typical evening would involve an argument if I wanted to go to bed, being woken up when she finally stumbled in drunk, being kicked out of bed and onto the couch. 20 min later she would return to kick me off the couch and downstairs into my studio. 20 min later she would come to the studio door and if she found it locked and go into an absolute blinding rage, literally trying to batter down the door and screaming that I am never to lock a door on her. If i let her into the studio then I had to be prepared for her to smash whatever she felt like smashing. Finally she might wear herself out and I could cry myself to sleep.

This was at least a weekly event. I started to feel homeless in my own home. I couldn't get a decent night sleep, exhausted and fearful of the inevitable outbursts. I attempted one night to break the pattern, instead of retreating to a locked room and lying there as she tires herself out trying to break the door down I instead hid behind the couch and tried to sleep there. It worked in that she never found me, the down side was that I had to hear her drunken tirade as she cursed me out, sitting on the couch I was hiding behind. Vocalising what she really thought of me, not knowing I was 40cm behind her, crying silently and hoping she would just hurry up and go to bed and pass out.

There were so many days and nights like this, I began to realise that I couldn't remember the last time I had been truly happy, for a whole day without it being ruined by some argument or situation.

It was when I recently saw the list elsewhere on this site of the impacts on male victims that I realised just how deeply I had been hurt by that relationship. Except for the two impacts concerning children, since escaping from that situation I have struggled with all those other impacts and its been hard to get back on my feet. I've turned into a hermit, I'm depressed and tired all the time but with each day it seems like its all hurting just that little bit less. I've travelled further along the healing path and I'm starting to feel good about myself again, to regain my confidence and to know that I am not the only man struggling quietly with this issue is of great comfort to me.

Tell your stories Gentlemen, they deserve to be told.