Broken Rainbow are one of the foremost UK organisations dedicated to confronting and eliminating domestic violence within LGBT communities. We spoke to one of the gay men they’ve helped, Craig, to find out his story.
It started when I was 18. Having previously seen my mother and father being abusive to each other, domestic violence was normalised. My partner was very controlling and I couldn’t do anything right, I was isolated. If dinner was not right he would throw it at me, I would be slapped. Then my partner would apologise and, in shock, I would believe that he meant it.
The abuse became more physical, leaving bruises out of sight, and my partner even more controlling. At one point my partner broke my leg, and used the excuse that I’d fallen down the stairs. I would frequently be told I was useless: ‘it’s your fault’; ‘you keep causing arguments’. I began to believe that it was my fault. This all happened in the first year of the relationship.
Police were involved, but main questioning was around whether I was sure that I hadn’t provoked my partner. All I wanted was for the incident to be put on file with the police, but they wanted to speak to my partner, and I didn’t want that. After this lack of support I started self-harming and overdosing. I was sent to a psychiatrist, I wanted to be sectioned.
On 4th August 1996, after a massive argument and a massive kicking, I left. He was living in London at the time and I walked all the way from North Finchley to Wood Green, the whole time receiving threatening calls and texts.
“The council worker said to me that domestic violence doesn’t happen to men.”
I knew when my pay would arrive in my bank account, and knowing that my partner would take this money, I drew it out at Victoria and caught a coach back to my parents in Bournemouth. My phone was flat for the rest of the journey, but I arrived to voicemails and texts from him saying he was sorry, that he loved me and that he would never do it again.
I nearly went back, but my mum explained he was never going to change.
Having grown up in Bournemouth, I knew it well and had friends to stay with whilst keeping a low profile. But I needed my own place to live. I asked Bournemouth Council for help, but there was a list for many years for housing, and when I explained my situation, the council wanted to know if I had reported the abuse to the police, and whether the case had gone to court.
But the police hadn’t even taken a record of the previous incidents. The council worker said to me that domestic violence doesn’t happen to men. I felt that my cry for help had not been heard and overdosed on over 150 paracetamol. I was in intensive care for 3 weeks. The hospital didn’t help me, I still felt that it was my fault.
My ex-partner still visited Bournemouth as he had children there. He would intimidate me, at one point holding a knife to my throat to force me to the train station to come back home.
After a year of ‘self-destructing’ I had one good friend left and supported me to go to a psychiatrist for help. The psychiatrist made links with my exposure to domestic violence in my childhood. I admitted myself into psychiatric care, and was only allowed to stay for three days. I lost all my friends and family.
I’d had enough, I just wanted to die. After being admitted I ran away from hospital, but the police arrested me and took me back and then home.
I was put in touch with Over the Rainbow and Bournemouth Mind, and these groups mentioned Broken Rainbow UK. I wish I had known about them before! Over the Rainbow was the first LGBT specific service that I accessed, and I feel I finally got the services I needed. Things are changing, it helps to be believed. I still believe I can put the ‘barriers up’ in a new relationship, but I’m building my confidence again and carrying on with my life. I am now happily civil-partnered and planning to marry.
