‘There are no words’ is a useful phrase in the English language. We have all lived through experiences for which it is difficult to find words that express exactly how we felt at the time. The birth of your child, a beautiful sunset, or dancing to live music with friends can all evoke intense emotions for which we cannot immediately find words. The ‘there are no words’ here is symbolic, a metaphor for describing some amazing experience. Of course there are words to express such sentiments: ‘beautiful’, ‘moving’, ‘incredible’, or ‘extraordinary’ are all good, solid words through which to express strong feelings and emotions.
However, there are situations where the phrase ‘there are no words’ has a literal meaning. For example, there are no words to name or define a woman who lives with a perpetrator of domestic violence, at least no words without a negative stigma attached to it. I did not know any word to describe myself when I lived with my abusive ex. They do not exist. I did not feel that ‘battered wife’ applied to me, as he never hit me. He was definitely violent, he broke everything in the house, lamps, furniture, children’s toys, but never hit me. At different times during the relationship he pushed me, kicked me, or put his hands around my throat. He would throw bottles of wine, cups of tea, his dinner, books, and even heavy gardening equipment at me, but never hit me. I had such a poor understanding of domestic violence, that I did not recognise his behaviour as abusive. It was only when I left and found support at a local domestic abuse service that I became informed and realised that even though he did not hit me, I had been living in a severe situation of domestic violence.
If the word ‘battered wife’ was not useful, then perhaps ‘victim’ might be a better way to describe the situation. This did not quite work either, I often felt victimised, but never a victim. The word ‘victim’ indicates a strong element of passivity, and women who live with abusers are never passive. They cannot be, as living with domestic violence demands a constant alertness, often even during sleep. In the field this state of alertness is called ‘fight or flight mode’, and compared with what soldiers experience during active combat. This alertness means all your senses are constantly active, ready to pick up on the slightest sign of impending violence or other abusive behaviour. During my relationship, I was continuously completely alert and on edge; I had to be, as not picking up on the tiniest clue would mean I may not be able to protect myself or the children. It took time, but eventually I developed the ability to tell what his behaviour would be like by the sound of his footstep, the tone of his voice, the way he turned a page of the newspaper or how he glanced at me. In this way I learned to anticipate incidents, devise strategies and use coping mechanisms, and often but not always avoid violence and nastiness. Any person who manages to act rationally from within this state of fear cannot be named ‘victim’ and it is not a good word either.
Interestingly, other than ‘abuser’ there are no good words that describe or define perpetrators of domestic abuse either. There are words for all kinds of violent and criminal behaviour, if a person kills someone, they are a murderer; when someone breaks into another person’s house, they are a burglar; a man who forces a woman to have sex with him against her will is a rapist, but when a man terrorises his partner and children in the home, there is no word to describe who or what they are. I have learned to use the word ‘abuser’, but unfortunately most people do not know what it means. It is a commonly used word by survivors and those who work in domestic violence support services, but outside of this small circle, it is a term that is not understood at all.
This lack of adequate language makes talking about abuse, seeking support, and accessing legal services extremely difficult, and it keeps many recipients of domestic violence (including children) in hazardous situations that they cannot find a way out of. Therefore, the literal meaning of ‘there are no words’ is dangerous, and it is crucial to develop appropriate language to express experiences of domestic abuse for a variety of reasons: firstly, at individual level, women who live with domestic violence need words to describe their experiences. Words that can be used to define the self in that situation without shame and stigma, adequate language through which to report incidents and share stories.
Secondly, suitable words are needed in wider society, words that carefully explain what abuse means. People need to develop a thorough understanding of how abusers operate, in order to raise awareness of violence against women as a preventive strategy. In addition, a terminology is required that challenges negative images of women who have experiences of violence. In this way, current views based on dangerous misinformation can be challenged, and the incredible shame that women continue to feel can be reduced.
Finally, at political level, language is needed that does not come from patriarchal myths and stereotypes, which often justify violent masculine behaviour. Inequality, sexism and toxic masculinity in wider society encourage victim blaming, and ensure that perpetrators are rarely held responsible for their actions. It is imperative that language used to design law, policy and support services is informed by in-depth knowledge provided by survivors, experienced legal practitioners, women’s groups and academics.
In conclusion, at a time where reports of domestic abuse, sexual violence and sexual harassment in all areas of women’s lives are on the rise, having a language that carefully explains what abuse is, and how to deal with it, is extremely important. Good, solid words that can be used to share experiences and deconstruct stereotypes. Having appropriate language to facilitate conversations about abuse will increase awareness, and enable all members of society to be involved in protecting themselves, as well as their mothers, sisters, daughters and friends.
Mireille