My name is Natalia and I am 54. At first glance, I had everything: a home, a husband, two children, a job. People said we were a lovely family with a full house. But behind closed doors, things were different.
My husband never hit me. For a long time, that is exactly what I kept telling myself so as not to call what was happening violence. He controlled my every step: who I talked to, where I went, even what I cooked for dinner. He could stay silent for hours when I did something “wrong” – that was his way of punishing me.
Over time I gave up my job, because he said that “a real woman should stay at home”. When I tried to go back to work, he laughed: “No one will hire you now, who needs you?”
I was losing myself – I no longer recognised the eyes in the mirror that once used to shine.
One day my son asked: “Mum, why do you always cry when Dad talks?” That was the point of no return. I realised I wanted my children to see dignity, not fear.
I turned to the social services centre, where a specialist in gender-based violence was seeing people. She simply listened. Then she explained that domestic violence is not only beatings. It is also control, humiliation and constant psychological pressure.
They helped me draw up a safety plan and advised me how to prepare documents and pack my things unnoticed.
Now I rent a small apartment and work. My children and I attend psychological counselling. The most precious thing is that I once again feel I can make decisions. That my “yes” and my “no” matter.
I used to think that violence was when people shout, hit, or when someone suffers “worse”. Now I know: any life in which you are ruled by fear and humiliation is already violence.
I also know that there is a way out. It begins with one step – when you finally allow yourself to believe that you deserve respect.
