“I was in an on-and-off relationship with my ex for 13 years. When I first met him, he was drinking and using cocaine, although he hid the cocaine use from me because I had children. He basically moved himself in straight away, constantly staying at mine. Looking back now, I recognise the love bombing, but I didn’t realise it at the time.
After about six months I was told about the drugs, but I was told he only used cocaine at weekends. That turned out to be a lie. After a year I found out I was pregnant. He was charged and sent to prison for Section 18 GBH, so I went through the pregnancy alone. He had begged me from prison to keep the baby, and his mum also made sure I kept the baby because it “wouldn’t be fair on him.”
When he came out in 2015, that’s when everything changed. From then until now, that was always his excuse for how he behaved: prison changed him. He would go on weekend benders, disappear and then come back when he had no money. Every time I packed his things, he would get his mum to collect them, and she would blame me for everything, telling me I was controlling and didn’t understand what he was going through.
I was paying all the bills and his phone bill. Eventually I found out he had a serious gambling problem and was sleeping with escorts. Again, I was blamed because apparently I didn’t give him enough attention.
That’s when the violence really started.
He would disappear and turn up in the early hours, kicking the front door in, with two children in the house. He smashed a mop over my head and left bruises all over my arms, legs and ribs. I lied about it and covered it up. Whenever someone called the police, I would tell them he wasn’t well and try everything I could to stop him being arrested.
Looking back, I know I was completely under his control. I started blaming myself and questioning why I wasn’t good enough. His family constantly told me it was my fault and that prison had done this to him, so I believed them.
In 2018 I became pregnant again. I had made it clear I didn’t want to continue the pregnancy and had arranged an abortion. A week before the appointment, he disappeared and his family began calling me a murderer because he had told them he wanted to keep the baby. Someone cancelled my appointment, and he had already told people around our town that I was pregnant again and keeping the baby.
I spent that pregnancy alone, barely leaving the house except for school, work and appointments.
He eventually turned up at the hospital when I was being induced, crying, begging me and promising me everything would change. I believed him.
Then came lockdown. The house was filled with drink, drugs and his friends. I would stay upstairs with the children while people were downstairs. Eventually the violence came back. He strangled me for the first time and spitting in my face became one of his go-to behaviours.
It wasn’t until my eldest daughter, who was 15 at the time, sent me a message saying she wanted him out for good because she didn’t want to come home from school one day and be told I’d been badly hurt or that I was no longer here, that something finally changed in me.
I kicked him out, blocked him and his family and started speaking up.
For weeks the police were in and out. He sent more than 500 emails, repeatedly called during the night, drove past the house and turned up. I started reporting everything instead of protecting him.
He was eventually convicted of two assaults and harassment, received a suspended sentence and I obtained protective orders. But the behaviour continued. He breached those orders, contacted me and my family and made threats. A member of his family also came to my home, kicked the door and threatened me if I reported things again.
He eventually went to prison for further breaches.
But even that didn’t end it.
When he was released, he immediately started contacting me again. He called constantly, left voicemails and tried to persuade me to meet him. He was eventually returned to prison and later received another sentence.
He was released again on licence with conditions including electronic monitoring, a curfew and an exclusion zone, and was classed as high risk by probation.
He hasn’t seen the children since October, but there are now family-court applications concerning contact.
My eldest doesn’t want to see him. My daughter has already told professionals that she is scared of him. There have also been incidents involving members of his family around her school which frightened her.
My youngest is seven and misses his dad. He doesn’t know everything that has happened because I have always protected him from it.
Now the family court has to decide what happens next.
My daughter doesn’t want to speak about what has happened to her. She has already said she doesn’t want contact, yet I’m being told she may have to speak to the court. She is begging me not to let them come to her school because she doesn’t want to have to explain what has broken her.
Children shouldn’t have to keep explaining the trauma caused by a parent who has already been convicted of domestic abuse-related offences.
I spent years protecting him.
Now I’m trying to protect my children.
And I’m terrified that the system that is supposed to protect us will keep giving him ways back into our lives.
He has used my mental health against me for years. My character has been questioned, my parenting has been scrutinised, and the same patterns of behaviour continue.
I don’t understand why I have to keep fighting the same fight.
The prison sentence ended. The abuse didn’t.”
💜 What this survivor’s story highlights
When the relationship ends, the abuse may not
Domestic abuse can continue after separation through harassment, stalking, intimidation, threats, monitoring, manipulation and other forms of post-separation abuse.
Importantly, family proceedings themselves can sometimes become part of a pattern of controlling behaviour. Practice Direction 12J requires family courts to consider allegations and evidence of domestic abuse and whether a party may be using the court process to continue or perpetrate abuse.
This does not mean that every application for child contact is abusive. Parents have legitimate reasons for using the family courts. The important point is that the possibility of the court process being used as another means of control should not be overlooked where there is evidence of domestic abuse.
💜 Children can be victims too
Domestic abuse does not only affect the person being physically or emotionally abused.
The Domestic Abuse Act 2021 recognises children as victims of domestic abuse where they see, hear or experience the effects of abuse.
That matters because children can carry the consequences of domestic abuse long after the relationship has ended.
A child saying they are frightened, refusing contact or struggling with what has happened should be treated as part of the safeguarding picture—not simply dismissed as a disagreement between two parents.
💜 “Both parents” does not mean automatic contact
There is a general presumption in family law that parental involvement will further a child’s welfare, but this is not an unconditional right to contact.
Where domestic abuse is established or alleged, the court has to consider the potential harm to the child and the other parent, as well as whether safe arrangements can actually be made.
The welfare of the child remains the court’s paramount consideration.
💜 Children should be heard, but they should not be made responsible for adult decisions
Children’s wishes and feelings can be important evidence in family proceedings, although they are not automatically determinative.
There is an important difference between giving a child an appropriate opportunity to be heard and making them repeatedly explain or relive traumatic experiences.
For a child who has already said they are frightened, the process itself needs to be handled carefully and sensitively.
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💜 The scale of the issue
Cafcass received 42,172 private-law children’s cases in England between April 2025 and March 2026, involving disputes about arrangements for children following parental separation.
These figures represent tens of thousands of individual families entering a system where decisions can have enormous consequences for children and parents.
Behind every case number is a real child, a real family and often a complicated history that cannot be understood simply by looking at whether both parents want contact.
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💜 Mental health and victim credibility
This survivor also describes something that many victims fear: having their mental health or past experiences used to undermine their credibility.
Having a mental health condition does not make someone incapable of being a reliable witness, a good parent or a victim of domestic abuse.
A person’s mental health should be considered appropriately where it is genuinely relevant to safeguarding or welfare—but it should never become a shortcut for dismissing what they say.
Domestic abuse can itself have profound effects on mental health, confidence and behaviour.
A survivor should not have to be a “perfect victim” before their account is taken seriously.
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💜 The wider question
This survivor’s story raises an important question for Beyond the Sentence UK:
What happens when the sentence ends, but the risk does not?
The prison sentence may finish.
The restraining order may expire.
The licence may end.
But the victim and their children may still be dealing with the consequences.
Sometimes the next chapter isn’t another physical assault.
Sometimes it is the emails.
The calls.
The family-court applications.
Messages through relatives.
Social media.
People appearing around places the victim or children visit.
The fear surrounding child contact.
And the constant feeling that the person who caused the harm is still finding ways into their lives.
Family courts are essential. Children’s relationships with their parents can be incredibly important. Rehabilitation and second chances matter.
But safety has to matter too.
We need a system capable of recognising the difference between a parent who genuinely poses no ongoing risk and a pattern of behaviour where legal processes, children or family members may continue to be used as a means of control.
Justice shouldn’t end with a conviction. Protection shouldn’t end with a sentence.