Tell someone... even if you don't tell them yet...

“Why should I report it if the police won’t help me anyway?”

Many victims feel this way and it’s perfectly justified. Deep in a cycle of post-separation abuse which had involved the police, social services and ultimately the family courts, none had helped stop the cycle of stalking and harassment by my abuser. And I was one of the lucky ones in that I (unlike so many victims I hear from) felt I was believed by everyone I dealt with from the police officers who attended my home to the family court judges I appeared before.

Still, being believed didn’t stop the abuse. The police never had enough evidence to charge my abuser. Social services couldn’t help me for various reasons (I was made homeless by my abuser but didn’t qualify for emergency housing as I owned a small flat elsewhere). And the courts, oh the courts. Whilst at each hearing I was granted broadly what my legal team were requesting, the very nature of the court process itself makes it an abuser’s favoured weapon.

My abuser lodged applications then simply didn’t show up to his own hearings, leaving the archaic and unfit-for-purpose family court process trundling on for months and months in his absence at the cost of tens of thousands of pounds to me whilst costing him nothing (he became a litigant in person early on before disengaging entirely). This was all, of course, by design. Every system that was supposed to protect me and my child failed. Most of them advanced my abuser’s aim: to continue his abuse long after our relationship had ended and with no regard for the welfare of his own biological son.

Still, as a solicitor, I knew none of this was conspiratorial. The police, social services and family courts weren’t sitting down at some big table deciding to support my abuser instead of me. It’s just the way it is. Each of these systems come with high caseloads, strained resources and seemingly insurmountable evidential thresholds. But the effect is that victims are violated by these systems after being violated by their abuser. The system becomes the weapon, wielded unwittingly on behalf of the abuser while they sit back and watch it all unfold with glee.

Report it anyway

As a solicitor one of the first things I ask my clients in any matter where we will need to provide documentary evidence is whether they have any “contemporaneous records”. These could be diary entries made at the time, voice notes or audiovisual recordings (though the latter can be looked upon unfavourably by the courts especially if taken surreptitiously), photographs, counselling records or police disclosure etc.

“Contemporaneous records” like these are one of a lawyer’s favourite tools, even though they are by no means a jackpot and ultimately may be of little or even no value. Still, it gives a solicitor comfort to have something saved on their file as ‘evidence’ of claims made rather than nothing at all. If someone says they’ve been anxious and depressed, for example, I ask whether they saw their GP or a counsellor about it at the time. If they did, I request the records. Equally, if they reported something to the police, it means we can, at the very least, make a subject access request and prove what date and time a certain disputed incident occurred, even if ultimately the case will turn on a classic he-said/she-said scenario. Having evidence of facts like dates and locations is helpful as it means we can agree those things with the other side early on and spend our time and our client’s money focussing only on the matters in real dispute (even though you’d be surprised how many times I find errors in official records and reports! Police officers, GPs and psychologists are only human, after all).

In my own case, my evidence bundle included police disclosure I’d requested, as well as records from counselling sessions I’d arranged for me and my abuser as our relationship crumbled (a separate post details why couple’s counselling is not recommended for abuse situations, I just didn’t know at the time). My abuser did not deny any of the abusive incidents occurred in therapy, after all, but later alleged I’d made it all up. We never got to a fact-finding hearing in my legal cases (unsurprisingly, as abusers really don’t like facts) but having those records in my arsenal made me feel more self-assured as I faced the trauma of the court process twice.

My abuser ultimately walked away without any consequences (having pulled out) leaving me and my family in financial ruin. Still, I say to you as both a lawyer and a victim, please try to keep records if it is safe for you to do so. It may not help your case, but maybe, just maybe, it will. What is certain is that if it doesn’t exist, neither does the opportunity to ever use it.

A mantra that kept me going through the darkest times (and was often proved true in my work as a human rights lawyer) is that what is in darkness will eventually come to light. It may take years, decades even, but usually, the truth has a way of sneaking out. So put those records away for posterity and let the universe do its work while you slowly heal and rebuild yourself from the ashes.