My life was defined by coercive control – a refuge saved my life

For as long as I could remember, my life had been defined by coercive control (Picture: Ash Bibi)

As I walked into the women’s refuge for the first time, I felt a sense of relief.

It was a huge house with a garden. It wasn’t fancy but it was clean – and the welcoming atmosphere hit me straight away. It felt like a safe space.

So even though I was only 16, had only one change of clothes and a book in my pink and white backpack, I felt ready for the rest of my life, one free of abuse, to begin.

For as long as I could remember, my life had been defined by coercive control.

Throughout my life, I’d often witness or hear abuse, and as the oldest of five siblings, I often took on a caregiver role, trying to keep them safe in any way I could.

Sadly this meant I often became a target myself and would be subjected to psychological abuse.

I was 12 when I first called Childline from a phone box.

As the oldest of five siblings, I often took on a caregiver role (Picture: Ash Bibi)

I’d walked to it many times over the previous few years, but that day I found the courage to actually make the call.

In that initial conversation, I felt a huge sense of hope.

Their advice was to confide in a trusted teacher.

Over the next couple of years, I slowly opened up to a few teachers. I revealed the extent of the abuse, confessed that I felt powerless, that I was terrified of being sent to Pakistan – my abuser often threatened that, the moment I turned 17, they would send me there and force me to marry.

However, at 15, one truly brilliant teacher changed my life.

She approached me – she must have heard about my situation – and during school hours she took me to a local support organisation in town. It finally felt like someone understood things needed to change, I needed to get out.

The organisation informed me that, as I was still under 16, I would have to go through the court system. The thought of this terrified me.

I knew my abuser was incredibly manipulative and that, to outsiders, they often came across as charming.

I often became a target myself and would be subjected to psychological abuse (Picture: Ash Bibi)

With the knowledge that a court could believe their word over mine, I felt I had no choice but to hang tight.

With the help of my teacher, I spent the next six months planning my escape.

On my 16th birthday, with nothing but a pink and white rucksack on my back, I left home for the last time. I was scared that someone would stop me, that I’d be found; but I also felt a total sense of relief.

I was focused on the short term, on getting out. I didn’t think or care about the future beyond the next few days.

After my local social services team found me a place in a refuge alongside other survivors, my life changed in an instant.

At the refuge, there were so many women, children and young people with stories like mine (Picture: Ash Bibi)

During my stay at the refuge, I was given more freedom than ever before. I could eat and wear whatever I wanted, do my hair how I liked, listen and watch the things I chose.

For the first time in my life my opinion mattered.

One support worker even gave me vouchers to buy new clothes and I bought jeans and a top. It was the first time I’d been able to choose what to wear – something many people take for granted.

Apart from school uniform, I had never been allowed to wear anything other than traditional clothes.

What stood out most though during my time at the refuge was the immense courage of the survivors I lived with.

There were so many women, children and young people with stories like mine and it was both heartbreaking and reassuring to realise I wasn’t alone. We became like one big family and it gave me the hope I needed to reclaim my future.

I was assigned a police officer who advised me to change my name – I’ve been Ash ever since – and handled all communication between myself and my family.

And when my abuser sent me an ultimatum – come home or never see my family again – I felt confident in choosing the latter.

It’s now been over 30 years since I escaped (Picture: Ash Bibi)

Yes, the choice between staying in an abusive home and fleeing into the unknown is a terrifying one (escaping abuse is a process, not a single act) but it was the best choice I could have made.

I was in the refuge for several weeks, but the importance of that time makes it feel so much longer. That experience was the gateway to the rest of my life.

It’s now been over 30 years since I escaped, and I never could have imagined the life I have today. I will be forever grateful that every choice I make is my own. It feels like a huge privilege to say that.

But while I have so much to be thankful for, the harsh reality is that thousands of children are still living in fear of abuse right now.

According to Refuge – the largest specialist domestic abuse organisation in the country – around half of the residents in safe accommodation are children under 18 and, devastatingly, 1 in 5 children will experience abuse in their lifetime.

I know what a difference having a safe place to go can make to a child’s life, but moving to a refuge, away from school friends and often without treasured toys or basic belongings, can be daunting for many young survivors.

Looking back now though, I know that girl with the pink and white backpack made the bravest choice of her life.

And although I will never forget the abuse I experienced, I can say with certainty that it is possible to reclaim the life you deserve.

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