'I trusted my husband with all our finances. He left me homeless.'

This story discusses domestic violence and suicide.

Tammy Casseslon was just 15 years old when she first saw him from across the room. They smiled at one another, and that was it. She was smitten. 

"He was 17. Charming, funny, very good looking and looked at me like I was special," says Tammy. 

Their relationship began with laughter, love and lightness. "He was so proud of me and showered me with adoration. I loved being loved. I loved how funny he was. I thought we were building a very strong foundation of trust."

The pair became fully enmeshed in each other’s lives and families. 

"He wooed my family with his magnetic character and his wicked sense of humour. They fell in love with him."

Looking back now, Tammy says the behaviour screams of 'love bombing'. At the time, it just felt like love. The couple built a life together, they had two children - a pigeon pair. They were the picture perfect family - well educated, good jobs, attractive. But behind closed doors, the picture looked a little different.

Watch: Can You Spot The Red Flags Of Domestic Violence? Post continues after the video.

The creep of coercive control.

"Coercive control is so insidious, so sly. It creeps up in a way that it’s almost impossible to notice," shares Tammy. 

It started with the occasional joke or jibe at Tammy’s expense, tiny little comments that made Tammy wonder if she heard right, made her question if she misunderstood. 

"What I only realised later was that he was always in control. We started saving money together before we were ever married. I had no access and never even questioned it. I trusted him completely, naively," says Tammy. 

After they got married and Tammy began to make independent decisions, discovering a need to explore her own purpose, things escalated. 

"It began with jokes at my expense and subtle, almost like under your breath insults, and later there were long periods of controlled calm, then bursts of extreme anger and yelling, including threats and very cruel comments. 

"When I stepped out of his rules, he started saying unacceptably disgusting things." Then the physical threats of violence started.  

"Threats of violence against myself and our children and himself. Pretending to punch me to within a millimetre of my face, using looks to control and threaten me, smashing things."

A picture perfect couple

Despite the prolific gaslighting, the verbal abuse, the emotional and financial abuse, the isolation and the physical threats, to the outside world, they were the perfect family.

"My ex-partner painted a picture and I went along with it. Until the very end I would not have labelled it abuse. I did not understand the enormity of all we were going through and had been through."

Tammy grew up in a comfortable middle-upper-class suburb of South Africa before moving to Australia. Her childhood was carefree, happy, protected. She was well educated, had lots of friends, a close family and a large extended family. 

"I have an educational background in commerce, psychology, education, counselling, and teaching. When people think of a typical abuse victim, I wouldn’t come to mind, however there are many like me out there.

"It can happen to anyone, from any background, no religion is exempt, no education makes you exempt, no happy childhood, no social class, personality type, no level of intelligence."

Tammy’s partner also came from a loving family. His childhood was a happy one. Everyone loved him. 

"Perpetrators are not easily identifiable monsters. They are charmers. At first I didn’t even recognise the tiny red flags occurring. It was all subtle, laughed away, explained away, blamed away. 

"It is common for women to refuse to believe what is happening because they don’t want it to be true. It is easier to doubt yourself than embark on the process of decision making around staying or escaping."

It’s hard for others too, especially when things seem so… normal.

"I tried explaining it on two occasions and was told that that is how marriage is and it would settle."

Breaking away.

As Tammy became increasingly suspicious of financial deception, the relationship became increasingly hostile, and her husband’s threats of violence increased. Eventually, he attempted suicide, and was taken to hospital. It was then, Tammy discovered the extent of his deception. 

"He had been borrowing money in my name for years from banks, loan sharks, our friends and our family. There was an eviction notice for our home and our cars were being repossessed. He owed the children’s school money."

While he was in hospital, Tammy left, prompting the abuse to escalate even further. 

There was systems abuse, which involves using lawyers and the broken family law system to cost victim-survivors energy and time, ultimately pushing them over the edge. 

"Filing vexatious claims, delaying procedures, refusing requests and so escalating court proceedings eg passport renewal for my daughter, perjury, hiding income."

Then there was the religious abuse. "In Judaism there is a religious marriage as well as the civil marriage." The ending of the former must be done within the Jewish religious court and agreed upon by both parties. "This is just another way that a man can exert power and control and weaponise the system. The husband uses this as a bargaining tool forcing his wife into settlement, seeing the children, extorting money." Tammy’s ex refused. 

There was continued financial abuse, emotional abuse and threats of physical violence, even murder. Tammy feared for her life, and the lives of her two children. 

Employed, educated, and homeless.

After discovering their impending eviction, Tammy was forced to leave the family home. For the next two months, she and her children were completely homeless. 

"We were a middle class, educated, working couple. We came from large, close families. My children were at a private school. How could we be homeless? I think everyone thought someone else would help. I was too proud, and full of shame, to explain we were completely homeless."

While there were a few close friends who seemed to understand, most couldn’t separate themselves from the charming man they all loved. 

"For my children and myself the ground had fallen away. Your home is your safe space. It is where you gather and laugh and cry. It is where you have freedom to be authentically you. We had no home base. I had to be home base. My children had to know as long as we had each other we would be safe."

Tammy and her two children, who were studying for end of year exams, stayed with a cousin for a few weeks, and another cousin for a few weeks more. 

"Lost, bewildered, foundation less. I just kept reiterating that as long as we were together, we were home.

"The family of my daughter’s friend, who was not a close friend then, offered us to move into her home as they were going away. The kindness and generosity of that gesture still overwhelms me."

A broken court system. 

Throughout it all, Tammy was forced to repeatedly attend court, where her she was forced to face her perpetrator, while being cross-examined. 

"I was the victim fighting for the safety of my children and myself, while he stared me down, petrified that he was going to kill us, and being provoked by his lawyer. He smirked across the court at me. He came to stand as close to me as he could. He made comments under his breath. And then he played the victim. He couldn’t answer questions because of his fragile mental health."

He took Tammy to court for contravening an order. He took her father to court. Both were thrown out, but not before time, money and mental energy was wasted. 

"He breached intervention orders multiple times, admitting to doing it on the stand and never facing consequences for actions. Seven years of continual court action, wasted money, stress and anxiety."

The other side. 

After eight years of living in survival mode, running on adrenaline, feeling anxious and having panic attacks, Tammy’s ex partner died by suicide, triggering a heart-shattering grief and sense of injustice for her children. 

"My heart is shattered that there is no more hope for him or hope that my children will get a chance to have a father," she says. 

Looking back, Tammy can see she is one of the lucky ones, which is why she’s decided to share her story.  She's written a book, called, The Grimmest of Fairy Tales. 

"I escaped and survived, I was very sure he was going to kill me and/or kill my children. I woke up screaming, jumping at slight sounds, going through periods of isolating myself and pretending I was ok. 

"(But) I would not allow my perpetrator to take anymore from me and vowed to always keep an open heart.   

"I have had to learn how to accept help. It is difficult to find the balance between being fiercely independent and let people see your vulnerability and help you. It is a big important lesson in grace."

If this has raised any issues for you, or if you just feel like you need to speak to someone, please call 1800 RESPECT (1800 737 732) – the national sexual assault, domestic and family violence counselling service.

Mamamia is a charity partner of RizeUp Australia, a Queensland-based organisation that helps women and families move on after the devastation of domestic violence. If you would like to support their mission to deliver life-changing and practical support to these families when they need it most, you can donate here.

If you think you may be experiencing depression or another mental health problem, please contact your general practitioner. If you’re based in Australia, please contact Lifeline 13 11 14 for support or beyondblue 1300 22 4636. 

Feature image: Supplied.