Before you read on. This page is written for someone who wants to help another person — but if it is happening to you, it is for you too. Two things worth knowing: the Leave now button above jumps to a weather page, though it cannot erase your history. If there is any chance your device, accounts or browsing are being watched, read this on a friend's phone, a work computer or a library machine instead. Nothing you tick or type on this page is stored anywhere.
For friends, family, colleagues · 12 minutes
The most useful thing you can say is not advice. It is: I believe you.
When someone tells you what is happening at home, they have usually spent months rehearsing it and expecting not to be believed — because they have been told for years that they are exaggerating, imagining it, or the real problem. Your first sentence decides whether they ever say it again, to you or to anyone. It should not contain the words "why don't you just".
This page is deliberately not a leaflet about violence. Most of what makes abuse work is quieter than violence: control of money, of movement, of who you see, of what you are allowed to think. That is what people fail to recognise — often including the person living inside it.
What it usually looks like
Ask people to picture domestic abuse and they picture a bruise. But the pattern that specialists describe — and that predicts the worst outcomes — is coercive control: a slow narrowing of someone's world until they have no separate life left. It can exist with no violence at all, and it is what makes leaving so much harder than it looks from outside.
Money. No access to accounts, or an allowance, or debts taken out in their name, or being made to account for every purchase.
Movement and time. Being checked up on, having to report where they are, a phone tracked, a car's mileage noted, being late becoming an interrogation.
Isolation. Friends gradually judged unsuitable, family framed as interfering, an argument before every social event until it is easier not to go.
Rules and punishment. A household of unwritten rules that change, so that being wrong is always available; silence, sulking or rage as the penalty.
Degradation. Being told constantly that they are stupid, mad, ugly, a bad parent, worthless — usually alongside enough tenderness to keep hope alive.
Jealousy dressed as love. Reading messages, accusations, "I only do it because I care so much".
Threats that need no violence. To take the children, to report them to immigration, to out them, to tell their employer, to hurt a pet, to kill themselves if the person leaves.
And the part outsiders find hardest: the person doing this is often charming, respected and well-liked in public. That is not a contradiction — the ability to control the impression others have is part of the same skill. "But he's lovely" is not evidence of anything.
Signs worth taking seriously
Tick anything you have noticed. This is not a test and there is no score — any single item is worth a quiet conversation, and a few of them mean specialist help now rather than later. Nothing you tick is saved, and it disappears the moment you close or reload the page.
Tick what applies. Nothing is stored on this device.
One sign deserves singling out: strangulation. Being strangled even once — including "just" a hand on the throat that left no mark — is one of the strongest known predictors that someone will later be killed by their partner. It is also a medical emergency in its own right, because serious injury can appear hours or days later. If this has happened, it changes the urgency of everything else on this page: specialist help now, and medical assessment even with no visible injury.
What to say, and what not to
Almost every instinct is well-meant and wrong. The instincts push towards judgement of the partner, urgency about leaving, and solving. What helps is the opposite: belief, patience, and returning the sense that they can decide things.
Instead of"Why don't you just leave?"
Try"What would you want to happen? Whatever you decide, I'm here."
Instead of"If you go back, I can't keep doing this."
Try"You can always come back to me, however many times."
Instead of"Are you sure? That doesn't sound like him."
Try"I believe you. Thank you for telling me — that took something."
Instead of"You have to think about the children."
Try"You know your situation better than anyone. What feels safest to you right now?"
Instead of"I'm going to have a word with him."
Try"I won't do anything you haven't asked me to do. What would help?"
Instead of"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"
Try"I'm glad you told me now."
The principle underneath all six: abuse works by taking away someone's ability to make their own decisions. Advice delivered as pressure — however kind — repeats that shape. Support that hands decisions back is the opposite of what they are living with, and that is precisely why it helps.
Why "just leave" is dangerous advice
This is the fact that changes how a good friend behaves, and almost nobody knows it: the period around leaving is the most dangerous time. Separation is when control is lost, and it is when threats are most often carried out. Serious assaults and killings cluster in the weeks and months after someone leaves or announces they will.
So leaving is not the solution by itself — a planned leaving, ideally with a specialist service that does this every day, is. Which means the honest version of helping is slower and less satisfying than the film version:
Don't push a departure date. Timing that looks like delay from outside is often a correct reading of risk from inside.
Do connect them to specialists. Domestic-abuse services can assess danger properly, arrange refuge places, and help with protection orders. They also advise people who are only worried about someone else — you can call before they do.
Never announce it to the partner, and never confront them yourself. Both raise the risk sharply for the person you are trying to help.
Expect several attempts. Most people leave and return more than once before leaving for good; that is a normal part of the process, not a failure or a reason to withdraw. The helper who is still there on the fourth attempt is the one who matters.
Practical things that genuinely help
Be a boring, reliable fixture. A regular walk, a standing coffee, a weekly message that expects no reply. Isolation is the mechanism; ordinary contact is the counter-mechanism.
Offer storage, not instructions. Keep a bag at your house: spare keys, some cash, a charger, copies of passports, birth certificates, bank cards, prescriptions, immigration documents. Having papers already out of the house removes one of the biggest practical barriers.
Be a safe address and phone number. For post, for a spare phone, for deliveries, for an emergency contact that isn't shared with the partner.
Agree a code word or signal that means "call for help" or "come and get me" — something that can be sent as a normal-looking message.
Write dates down, if they want that. With their consent, keep your own quiet note of what they told you and when. Contemporaneous records from a third party can matter later, for protection orders or housing, and their own notes may not be safe to keep at home.
Go with them. To the GP, the lawyer, the housing office, the police station. Sitting in a waiting room next to someone is a real form of help.
Mind the digital trail. Shared accounts, family location sharing, a car's app, a trackable tag in a bag, a shared cloud that syncs photos and messages, a child's tablet still logged into their account. Specialist services can advise; the general rule is to change nothing suddenly, because the sudden loss of access can itself provoke danger — and to use a device the partner has never had access to for anything sensitive.
Look after yourself too. Supporting someone through this is heavy and long. Helplines advise worried friends and relatives as well; using one is not taking a place from someone who needs it more.
If this is happening to you
You are not stupid, you did not choose this, and the fact that you can see good in them does not mean you are imagining the rest. Two things are true at once: it is not your fault, and it is unlikely to change by itself.
You are allowed to call a helpline just to think out loud. You do not need a plan, evidence, or an intention to leave. They will not tell you what to do, and they will not act without you.
In immediate danger, call 112. If speaking is not safe, many countries have silent or text-based ways to reach emergency services — a specialist helpline can tell you what exists where you live.
If you are strangled, choked, or hit on the head — get medical care, even if you look fine. Say what happened if you can; injuries from strangulation and head impacts can develop hours later.
Consider what leaves the house before you do. Documents, a little money, medication, something of the children's. Somewhere else, with someone you trust.
Don't announce a departure. Specialists exist precisely because this moment is the dangerous one, and they can help plan it properly.
Assume devices may be visible. Use a phone or computer the other person has never had access to for anything you would not want seen.
Abuse happens to women, men and non-binary people, in every kind of relationship, at every income and education level, in same-sex and different-sex couples, and it is done by partners, ex-partners and adult family members. If a service seems not to be meant for someone like you, it almost certainly is — and if one is not, they will know who is.
Children
Two things need saying plainly. First, children living with this are affected whether or not anyone touches them — hearing it, managing it, keeping the secret and reading the mood of a room are themselves harm, and the belief that they "don't know" is almost never right. Second, "staying for the children" and "leaving for the children" are both used as arguments, and neither settles anything from outside: the person living there is the one who can weigh the risk, and specialist services can help them do it with real information rather than guesses.
If a child is being hurt, or you believe a child is in danger, that is not a private matter between adults — contact the emergency number or your country's child-protection service. Where there is any doubt about whether to report, the helplines exist to answer exactly that question.
Where to get help, and what actually happens when you call
Most people never call, and the reasons are consistent: they assume they will be told what to do, that something will be set in motion they cannot stop, or that they do not qualify. None of that is how these services work, and knowing it in advance is often what makes the call possible.
You can call about someone else. National services advise worried friends, relatives, neighbours and colleagues — that is a normal reason to ring, not a misuse of the line.
Nothing happens without you. They will not contact the police, the partner or anyone else on your behalf unless a child is in danger or someone's life is at immediate risk. You stay in control of every step.
You don't need proof, a plan, or a decision. "I think something is wrong and I don't know what to do" is a complete reason to call. You can stay anonymous.
They do the specialist part: assessing how dangerous the situation actually is, what protection is available where you live, whether a refuge place exists, and how a departure could be planned safely. That is the work a web page cannot do.
In immediate danger it is 112, not the helpline. If speaking would be overheard, ask a specialist service what silent or text-based options exist in your country — they vary, and knowing yours in advance matters.
If English is not their first language, or they have insecure immigration status — say so when you call. Services can arrange interpreters, and there are usually specialist organisations for particular communities, for men, and for LGBTQ+ people. Immigration fear is used as a control tactic precisely because it works; specialists know the actual rules, which are usually less hopeless than the abuser claims.
It isn't only partners
The word "domestic" points at a household, not a romance. The same pattern — control, isolation, fear, escalation — runs inside families in forms that get missed because they don't match the expected picture.
Adult children against parents. An adult son or daughter who controls a parent's pension, takes their bank card, decides who may visit, or frightens them in their own home. Parents very rarely report this, because the alternative is reporting their own child — which is exactly what makes it durable.
Carers, paid or unpaid. When the person you depend on for food, medication, washing and getting out of bed is also the person hurting or humiliating you, leaving is not a matter of will. Dependency is itself the control.
Extended family and in-laws, particularly where several generations share a house and one person's isolation can be enforced collectively.
Teenagers and young adults in early relationships, where control is often mistaken for intensity and social media makes constant monitoring look normal.
Two specifics worth knowing. Where an older or disabled person is involved, look for missing money, unexplained bank withdrawals, changed wills, cancelled visits, untreated conditions and a carer who insists on answering for them — and know that adult-safeguarding services exist alongside domestic-abuse services. And where someone is dependent for personal care, never remove the only carer without a plan for the care itself; specialists arrange both, and that is why the call comes before the intervention.
The drill: 16 conversations
Sixteen moments where a friend either helps or accidentally makes things harder — a first disclosure, a return, a bruise nobody mentions. Pick what you'd do; every answer explains why, because on this subject the instinctive move is usually the wrong one.
The card
If printing this is not safe, don't. Take a photograph of it on a device nobody else uses, or simply remember the first line — it is most of the page.
If someone tells you
"I believe you. Thank you for telling me. What would help?"
Do
Believe them; don't investigate or ask for proof
Keep showing up — every week, no conditions
Hand decisions back: "whatever you decide, I'm here"
Store a bag: documents, cash, keys, charger, medication
Agree a code word that means "come and get me"
Offer to go with them — GP, lawyer, housing, police
Don't
Say "why don't you just leave" or set a deadline
Confront or warn the partner — it raises the danger
Give ultimatums, or withdraw if they go back
Act without their agreement
Urgent
Strangulation, threats to kill, weapons, stalking after separation, or escalation → specialist help now. Immediate danger → 112.
Leaving is the most dangerous time — plan it with people who do this every day.