Introduction to My Journey

Welcome to my blog, where I will share real-life experiences and shed light on the often-overlooked issue of coercive control in Scotland. There is no justice for victims of coercive control. There is no help for us. We are completely on our own. I hope this blog shows other victims that they are not alone. I will listen to all of your stories. Your story is important. Your story is real. My story is important and it is oh so real. It is happening to me everyday. The police tell me stalking, theft and breaking and entering are not crimes since I share children with the person committing the (non) crimes. If the police don't care about us, who will? We aren't imagining these things. This is abuse. We are being re victimised by the authorities. Abuse after abuse after abuse. We are silenced. We are shamed. We are lied to. We are mocked. We are accused of lying. Women have no rights in Scotland when it comes to domestic violence. There is no justice for most of us. Why don't women matter? Why are we being ignored or made to feel less than human? 

Just because there's a law against it doesn't make it a crime.

It's a wide held belief that when a crime is reported to the police, that report will be taken seriously by investigators acting in a professional manner. This is not what happened to me. I begin my story with this experience (one that happened a mere few weeks ago) because it is vital that I get this story out to other victims. It's a story that will be hard for some others to believe. We want to believe that women's rights have come a long way since the suffragettes. We want to believe that women have the right to be listened to and not ushered back into the kitchen when one dares speak against a man. Unfortunately there are many men who haven't made it to the 21st century yet. Two of them are currently working for Police Scotland. I made a report online about some domestic violence offences. The police then made an appointment for an in person interview at a local police station. I had a bad feeling the moment I saw the two officers who were there to speak to me. I didn't realise it until later but neither one of them wrote anything down the entire time I talked to them. They weren't even holding a pen, ready to start writing. They had made up their minds before they even met me: men must be believed at all costs. Women can't be trusted. They are male hating witches, trying to turn all men into incels. We must all work together to get them back in the kitchen, ready to give us 20 babies. 

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