Melanie Wood
Shared with permission
The Sam Wood case has brought so much into the spotlight around domestic violence, and as a woman who has experienced strangulation at the hands of my ex-husband (over 20 years ago), I've felt compelled to share a part of my own story.
Because domestic violence rarely starts with the moment that makes the headlines.
There is often a build-up. A pattern of behaviour. The control, intimidation, fear and escalation that can happen long before physical violence reaches that point.
I know this because I lived it.
My ex-husband strangled me. And several months later, there was a night that I believe saved my life.
I was out with a friend and decided not to go home that night. I called him to let him know I would be staying at my friend's house.
His reaction on the phone was so aggressive that I knew something wasn't right. My friend knew it too.
We both believed that if I had gone home that night, I might not be here today.
I will never forget that feeling. The fear. The instinct that something was seriously wrong. And the realisation of just how dangerous things had become.
I am forever grateful to that friend.
And I share this because I know there are women living with that fear right now, questioning their own experiences, wondering whether things are really that bad, or waiting for the behaviour to change.
Please don't wait for things to get worse before you take your safety seriously.
You don't have to wait until someone else's definition of abuse matches your own experience for your fear to be valid.
And the abuse doesn't always end when the relationship does.
Navigating family court and ongoing abuse after separation has been overwhelming and isolating in ways I never imagined. When you're trying to protect yourself, raise a child and rebuild your life, the continued stress can feel relentless.
Sometimes the systems we turn to for help can become another place where the struggle continues.
And while every woman's experience is different, I think we need to be having much bigger conversations about post-separation abuse, the impact of family violence on mothers and children, and how we can better support women who are trying to move forward safely.
I've been navigating a particularly challenging chapter of my life, and somewhere in the middle of motherhood, court proceedings and simply trying to keep everything together, I've felt a little disconnected from the mission that started my business.
But stories like these bring me back to why I started in the first place.
My business was built on helping women find their voice. And my deeper mission has always been to help more women share their stories, be heard and create lasting change, particularly around domestic violence.
Even when I've been quieter. Even when life has felt overwhelming. Even when I've been focused on getting through one day at a time — that mission hasn't gone away.
Because the more women speak up and share their experiences, the harder it becomes for these issues to remain hidden behind closed doors.
We challenge the silence. We challenge the stigma. We challenge the belief that women should simply move on and get over it. And we remind other women that they are not alone.
I know speaking up can be terrifying. I know there can be consequences, fear and very real reasons why women choose to remain silent.
I'm not sharing this because I think every woman needs to tell her story publicly. Your safety matters, and you get to decide what you share, when you share it and with whom.
But when women are ready and able to speak, our stories can help others recognise what they're experiencing, feel less alone and find the courage to seek support.
We cannot create lasting change by continuing to keep these experiences hidden.
We rise by listening to women. By believing that abuse can exist behind closed doors and behind carefully constructed public images. By holding systems accountable and demanding better protection, support and understanding.
We rise by standing beside each other rather than judging the choices women make to survive.
And we rise by creating spaces where women feel safe enough to use their voices.
To every woman who has experienced domestic violence, who is navigating the aftermath, who is trying to rebuild, or who is quietly surviving something no one else knows about — I see you. I hear you. I stand with you.
What happened to us does not define us. It is part of our story, but it does not get to write the rest of it.
And we deserve a future where women and children can live free from fear.
As women, we rise together. And together, we can help create the change that generations of women have needed.