Feb. 9 is an important date to me — on this day two years ago, I left an abusive relationship that nearly killed me. It is the day I took my life back.
There are different types and degrees of abuse: physical, sexual, emotional and financial. I have been subjected to all of them by one man, a man who “loved” me, a man who “would do anything for me,” a man who tried to destroy my life.
There is a certain type of woman that men like this seek out, a woman who may be in a vulnerable position. She may be going through some major changes and is looking for someone to help her feel secure. That is where I was.
Domestic violence has become epidemic. Each year, more than 40,000 arrests result from domestic violence — that’s about 12 per cent of all violent crime in Canada. And only about 22 per cent of all incidents are reported to the police.
The man who abused me was the life of the party, the funny guy, the guy who contributed to society, the guy everyone loved. No one knew the man he was behind closed doors. The man I lived with was controlling, jealous, paranoid and pure evil.
I had become a prisoner in my home and felt there was nothing I could do about it. I did not know from one minute to the next what his mood would be, whether he was going to accuse me of something he thought I did or if he was just going to take his frustration out on me.
Living like this is not only extremely frightening, it is dangerous. Over a period of seven months, I lost more than 30 pounds and was literally skin and bones. I was living in a constant state of anxiety and fear, not knowing what would happen next.
Sadly, I had come to tolerate the daily emotional abuse. It became almost normal for me to hear his hateful words.
The day he put his hands on me, everything changed. When a man almost triple your body weight puts his hands around your throat and looks at you with eyes that are as cold as ice, you know it’s time to make some drastic changes.
I started going to a support group and looked for advice from women who had been in my shoes. Although it was comforting to know that I wasn’t alone, it was staggering how many women were living as I was.
When the second physical assault happened less than six weeks later, I realized I needed to get out and I needed to do it fast. The incident was more aggressive and fuelled by more hatred. I was hit with the reality that if I didn’t get out, this man would kill me.
So I called the Sooke Transition House, the most important phone call of my life. I was terrified. How could this be happening to me? What did I do wrong? Was this all my fault? These are standard thoughts that go through every woman’s mind when she is faced with this fork in the road.
The lovely woman I spoke to, whom I have deemed my guardian angel, was straightforward: “Joanie, if you don’t get out of there, that man will kill you.”
My decision was made.
It took a few weeks to sort out some details, being as discreet as possible so as not to set off any alarm bells, but when the time was right, I acted. In 45 minutes, I was packed and on my way to freedom. The hardest part was over, I was out and I had a safe place to go.
Then the next big decision loomed — should I go to the police?
Most women in a domestic-violence situation will not go to the police because they assume nothing will be done; there isn’t enough proof or he will find out and come after them.
But I’m here to tell you there is zero tolerance for domestic abuse in B.C. My abuser was arrested within two weeks of me filing my report, and I recently received paperwork showing he had been sentenced after being found guilty of two counts of assault.
This last two years have been difficult, emotional and, at times, frightening, but as hard as it has been, the most important thing is that I am alive today, with a new life.
Domestic abuse must not be tolerated, and there is help. No one, male or female, deserves to be hurt at the hands of another person. If you are being abused, there is help for you. If you know someone is being abused, reach out to them and let them know they can get out.
My name is Joanie van Heeswyk and I am no longer a victim of abuse.