It began with the bread. When she first moved in with her boyfriend, he began asking her to close the bread packaging in a certain way after she had taken a slice. The asks became daily reminders. She accepted these as quirks in his character, even when they began to multiply and seep into other areas of their daily routine. By the time they were married, the nudges had become requests, and then eventually demands. But they were so normalised as was the weekly checklist of supermarket receipts, bank statements, text messages and car mileage that it would take several more years, a lot of support from close friends, family and therapy and the benefit of hindsight, to see them as early warning signs of abuse – warning signs of coercive control. One in four women in Ireland who have been in a relationship have been abused by a current or former partner, according to Women’s Aid.
All couples nag each other. We all have our individual idiosyncrasies and foibles. Likewise, all long-term intimate relationships have their own communication style, a set of expressions, gestures and glances understood by the couple themselves and those closest to them. In these contexts, it is only natural to occasionally accept a partner’s quirks. That form of acceptance, tolerance and compromise is part and parcel of a functioning relationship.
Coercive control is fundamentally different. It’s an entirely different language with its own set of rules, regulations and codes that are not only indecipherable to outsiders but also enforced through looks, threats, intimidation and fear. This form of abuse isn’t one-size-fits-all but instead it is bespoke: over time, the abuser fine tunes and tailors their tactics to fit their relationship. The victim might need permission to see their friends or family; maybe they don’t know how much their partner earns and they receive a meagre allowance; they may be messaged constantly to check their whereabouts; or perhaps they don’t have a choice when to have sex and then there’s that look that only they know, that signals the unavoidable row that will develop and escalate when they get home from an event because they have said or made a gesture that their partner has interpreted as being disrespectful to them or has made them jealous. These controls never start on day one of a relationship and they may take months, even years, to develop.
By the time the victim realises that they are self-censoring, self-checking and making daily choices to avoid breaking the rules of this language and facing the unavoidable consequences, they are probably so far into a cycle of abuse that they no longer know themselves. Not only are they communicating in a foreign language, but they are also living in another country. The intimate partner victim is like the fish who knows nothing about the water they are swimming in, but it is all consuming. It is all around them.
Orla Tinsley: The reality of having to fight for basic rights from all angles is exhausting
Dancing with the Stars 2025: Who are the contestants, when is it on and more
When the Nazis occupied Paris, his colleagues fled, but 84-year-old Sparrow Robertson kept filing his sports column
Joe Humphreys: Lessons in philosophy from Sally Rooney’s latest novel that can help us make sense of the world
Many people became fully aware of coercive control earlier this year, when 54-year-old Daniel Kane of Blanchardstown – the first person ever to have been convicted of the crime – lost an appeal against his 10½-year sentence. His ex-partner, Mary, told RTÉ’s Liveline recently that, “You don’t notice it happening… you start at 100 per cent, and the next day you’re 99, and every day you go down one per cent… It creeps up on you slowly and quickly at the same time.” The Liveline programme referred to another recent case in which the perpetrator was convicted for two years for assaults and two years for coercive control offences, but got a fully suspended sentence, highlighting the lack of any joined-up thinking.
[ Woman secures order against husband who took ‘complete control’ of financesOpens in new window ]
[ Court upholds 10½-year sentence for first coercive control conviction in IrelandOpens in new window ]
In a report, my colleague, Nuala Egan, and I prepared on The Intersection of the Criminal Justice, Private Family Law and Public Law Child Care Process in relation to DSGBV [Domestic, Sexual and Gender-Based Violence], we discussed the lack of collaboration between State agencies and described how it leaves victims and survivors feeling abused by the system. Our recommendations include the introduction of a support person to assist victims, the amendment of the in-camera rule and better training for all professionals involved.
Coercive control can happen to anyone. A victim-survivor might be the person you casually see with their dog at the local park; they could be the person beside you in the gym; they might be in your choir, your book club or your singing circle. And just as these people are everywhere, hidden in plain sight so too are their abusers. Perhaps they are the co-worker in the cubicle beside you, the person ahead of you in the queue in the coffee shop or the parent casually chatting beside you at the school gate. If you are reading this as you travel to work on public transport, look around. Chances are someone sitting close to you is involved in an abusive relationship.
If you find this hard to grasp, then stop by the district family court – another foreign country to many. This is where most family law matters concerning domestic violence protection, safety and barring orders are initially considered. Within the waiting area, it is very unlikely you’ll see perpetrators who outwardly look menacing to you. They don’t fit our prevailing stereotype of the intimate partner abuser. What is most striking is the sheer ordinariness of these people. From the outside, they are unremarkable. They resemble us because they are us – members of our community. Isn’t it uncomfortable to realise that some people can look like us but behave like them?
Because we often think domestic violence happens to other people and not us, we also tend to “other” those who come out and report abuse, especially women and marginalised members of our communities. But domestic violence isn’t a private issue, it’s a very public problem that contaminates all aspects of our society. Just as we all play a role in its transmission when it’s not acknowledged, we also must play a role in contributing to its solution.
Ellen O’Malley Dunlop is adjunct professor at UL Law School Centre for Crime, Justice & Victim Studies
If you have been affected by any of the issues raised in this article, you can contact Women’s Aid (24-hour freephone helpline at 1800 341 900, email helpline@womensaid.ie) or Men’s Aid Ireland (confidential helpline at 01 554 3811, email hello@mensaid.ie) for support and information.
Safe Ireland also outlines a number of local services and helplines at safeireland.ie/get-help/where-to-find-help/. In the case of an emergency, always dial 999/112.