To my abusive ex's new girlfriend: "I'm sorry I didn't warn you".

I am sitting here watching Simon Gittany’s new girlfriend find out how long her partner will spend in jail. I  am experiencing the pangs of guilt I have lived with since a Blondie concert a year or so ago.

I had a sense of foreboding just a few weeks earlier when I saw that the supporting act were a group called The Smiths. A tiny glimmer of my past life flashed through my mind when I heard that news. My ex-husband had mentioned this band, I thought. Maybe…

I love seeing bands with my new partner and was so looking forward to grooving out to Debbie Harry. Melbourne’s Myer Music Bowl slowly filled and we sat on an embankment next to the bar, laughing at some of the drunk patrons walking through the rope guides like animals to the slaughter. They were obviously reliving the days when they could sneakily smoke some grass and down a few UDLs. It took me back to the 80s.

But in two seconds I was taken back to the 2000s. My partner touched me gently and said “Isn’t that Peter?”

Walking toward the bar – and essentially us – was my ex-husband.

I felt the chemistry of my body change. He recognised me the second I saw him and my blood honestly felt like it was running cold. My legs turned to jelly. I could barely speak and the adrenalin rushed through me as if I needed to fight for my life. Again.

I ran to the toilets… I remember the cold, grey concrete and sitting there talking to myself. I texted my daughter, whom I knew would understand. Unfortunately she’d had to experience everything alongside me. I sat and sat. She offered to come and get me – and because I felt so diminished at that moment – I almost forgot that I was the mother in this situation.

Peter had ruined part of my life – and he was not going to ruin any more. I knew we had seats and as long as I was not in his immediate vicinity, I would be protected. Not that crowds had been a deterrent for him in the past. Still – the bodies would actually be a shield. We all know how impossible it is to get to and from your seats in a full cinema. I clung to this.

We were about three rows back from an aisle of sorts. We sat, and my partner held me to stop the shaking so that I could retain some degree of normality. Yes, I still cared that everything looked okay. Cringe.

I was scanning like Terminator, my movements robotic, taking mental notes on where everyone was and what was what. A possible escape plan had to be sorted.

I didn’t really need to scan too far. Peter appeared, strutting up and down the aisle right in front of me, trying to show me how many people liked him, chatting to people. He went down the front of the Music Bowl and danced just like I remembered, looking around to make sure everyone was looking.

Then came the moral dilemma that still haunts me. He returned to his seat, next to a girl who was obviously his girlfriend.

I sat and stared at her – and I stared, and I stared. Apart from the fact that this woman had seen my children, who I had not seen for four years because of this man – another story – her face fascinated me. Her stance fascinated me. Her face was drawn and ashen, and every time he sat and spoke to her she shrank further into the seat. She would flash an empty smile at him; I knew that if she didn’t she would receive a verbal if not physical bashing when she went home. She was forced to dance – no doubt for my benefit – and her feet dragged. She was diminished.

Here is my dilemma – and I want to ask other women about what they would like a woman in my position to do.

There was a time briefly after our separation when I was taking the children to him for his visit. A girl sat in his car. The children told me she was his girlfriend and I mouthed “Run… Run” to her. I often wonder if she had seen it.

Did she know that every time I went to court I was provided with security guards until I was safely on the train? Did she know that this man had hit not only me but my children and father? Did she know that his doctor had called me in for a special consultation to tell me that I had to get my older children away from him? Did she know what an effort it was to try and get into a refuge without him knowing?

Back to Debbie Harry girl. Do I wait until he goes to dance and rush over and her that she is not imagining things? That she is stronger than he says she is? That his first wife will also support her if she needs to get away? Do I tell her that it is not her imagination when her gut clenches as she wonders how much further he will take it –being sure it will be taken further?

Or do I leave – and not risk reigniting his wrath, keeping myself safe?

I have always felt bad for taking the later option. True, I was having an out-of-body experience at the time and felt about five years old – as he was prone to make me do. But where do the sisterhood rules sit on this situation? I explained it away to myself by saying that she would not listen – that she probably had been told I was a crazy drunk – that she was a big girl…..

But now I would like to say: to the beautiful woman at the Blondie Concert in December 2012, I am sorry. I am sorry every day.

And I hope that you have moved on and found a happier life where you realise your worth.

Would you warn your abusive ex’s new partner? Have you ever been in this situation – as the former partner or the new partner?

If you or someone you know is experiencing domestic violence, you can ring the Domestic Violence Line for help on 1800 656 463 (TTY 1800 671 442). The Domestic Violence Line is a statewide free-call number and is available 24 hours, seven days a week.