What Amber Heard vs Johnny Depp Tells Us About How Society STILL Sees Abuse...

Most of you have probably heard all about Johnny Depp and Amber Heard's marriage break-up, amid rumours of domestic violence.  Most of you have probably got an opinion on it.  A lot of you - whether you realise it or not - will have had that opinion shaped by the media and by societal beliefs when it comes to abuse.

Don't believe me?  Just Google it.  That's what I did, when I decided to write this blog piece and I was pretty horrified.  The top stories - predictably - were referencing Depp's ex wife Vanessa Paradis, who recently made the decision to wade into the controversy by proclaiming Johnny to be a gentle soul who would never hurt anyone.  Below those stories, were headlines about how poor Johnny had been "driven insane" by the thought of his wife cheating on him.  And of course, you can find stories about how the actor's family had never liked Amber Heard anyway and how she was almost certainly making up these "lies" about domestic abuse in order to make millions out of one of Hollywood's biggest stars.

Why?  Why is the media so quick to jump to conclusions?  

We don't know what really happened, yet.  I, personally, always choose to believe someone who claims to have been abused, because I know from experience how atrocious it feels to go through any kind of abuse and have people claim that you're making it up.  It's a lonely, frustrating, frightening place to be.  I've been in the position of being told I was "lying for attention" when I was trying to open up about what I'd experienced with my ex.  It was HELL.  When a person has been abused, they need support, they need empathy and they need people to tell them that what they're saying is being taken seriously.  So, despite the fact that we don't know all of the details yet and despite the fact that Johnny Depp has always been amongst my favourite actors (and Hollywood crushes...), I refuse to start slinging mud at Amber Heard and accusing her of lying.  If she is, then it's a despicable lie to tell.  If she's not, then we need to seriously look at media coverage of this, because it shows up just how far we still have to go, when it comes to public understanding of abuse.

The photo Amber Heard submitted to court, of the injury she alleges Johnny Depp to have inflicted on her.

Regardless of whether or not Johnny Depp did subject his wife to a dreadful and vicious assault, the reaction from the press and some sections of the public have shown - yet again - that we haven't a clue how to deal with accusations of abuse.  Nor do we seem to understand how abuse even works.

Rather than report on the facts as we know them - that Amber Heard filed for divorce and has since been granted a temporary restraining order against Depp - the press have, in typical fashion, gone down the route of dragging up Amber Heard's sexual past, insinuating that her abuse claims are motivated by money (Depp's divorce lawyer has stated as such and the press seem to have run with it) and providing what look frighteningly like excuses for any potentially abusive behaviour that Depp may have displayed.

"He was driven insane with fear that his bisexual wife was cheating on him." - The Daily Mail

"Amber filed for divorce just three days after the death of Depp's beloved mother." - The Mirror

"He found it difficult to cope with the amount of female friends his wife, who had previously admitted being bisexual, surrounded herself with." - The Mirror

"As (Amber & friend Cara Delevingne) spent more time partying and flaunting their friendship, Johnny, 52, is said to have become increasingly infuriated by their behaviour." - The Sun

Now, I am NOT going to sit here and claim that Johnny Depp absolutely 100% abused his wife, because I can't do that without having a much greater inside knowledge of the situation than I have (I can say I believe Amber Heard, but I can't say "yep, he definitely did it").  BUT, considering that the press are reporting on hugely serious claims that a very famous Hollywood actor left his wife fearful for her life, due to his abusive outbursts, should they really be interested in Amber's sexuality, or her friendships with women?  Because, regardless as to whether or not it's their intent, in doing so, the press are providing readers with an excuse.  If they choose to believe that Depp did hit Amber in the face with his phone, causing the bruises seen above, they can also write it off as the action of a man driven to extremes by his wife's behaviour.  The unspoken message is: If he did it, he did it because she made him.

I've not used my big NO in a while, but it seems appropriate, here.

The press may genuinely believe that they're providing important context, or striving for a balanced view, but they're actually making the common mistake of forgetting one, vital thing:  THERE IS NEVER AN EXCUSE FOR ABUSE.  In providing their readers with one - again, whether intentionally or not - the media are suggesting that certain behaviours cause a person to abuse their partner, and all that suggestion does is further the culture of victim-blaming and misconception that already surrounds the subject.

Bolstered by the phrasing used in the papers and in online reports, Depp's fans took to social media to attack Amber Heard for her behaviour, stating that her flirting with female friends and her love of partying wound poor Johnny up to the point where it's almost understandable that he snapped.  And sure, maybe it would be understandable if he merely snapped in as much as he shouted "hey, I'm sick of the way you're behaving" and suggested that they split.  But that's not the accusation, here.  The accusation is that he swung a glass bottle around, screaming, damaging property and eventually hitting Amber in the face with his phone, leaving a visible bruise.  The allegation is of abuse.  That abuse - if it took place - would have been a conscious choice, as abuse always is, and that is NOT okay.

One Depp fan claimed on Twitter that Amber's behaviour during her marriage to Johnny was tantamount to emotional abuse and therefore Depp was acting in self-defence and should not be punished.  OKAY, LET'S GET VERY REAL:  Almost five years ago, I was in an emotionally/psychologically abusive relationship.  For over a year and a half, I was cheated on, put down, mocked, threatened, used and generally put through the worst Hell of my life.  If I wanted to "get my own back" on my abuser, perhaps it would be understandable.  But if I actually beat him up, I would still have committed abuse.  I would still therefore be an abuser, myself.  I couldn't claim self-defence, unless he had physically attacked me first and emotional abuse is notoriously hard to prove.  And despite knowing the anger and frustration being emotionally abused can create in a person, I know I could never have actually beaten up my ex.  Why?  Well, for a start, he was bigger and stronger than me.  I was afraid of his temper.  Johnny Depp is bigger and, arguably stronger than Amber Heard.  Even if she was behaving cruelly towards him, physical violence was totally and completely unnecessary.  Whatever she did, however she behaved, Depp had the option not to assault her.  If Amber's allegations are true, he made a choice to beat her face with his phone.  No amount of being scared that she was cheating on him, or feeling as though she didn't respect him makes that alright.  But when these facts were pointed out to said Depp fan on Twitter, she claimed that "Amber supporters" were casually excusing her behaviour, whilst criticising Johnny's.  That's not the case; all anyone is saying is that abuse isn't the answer to anything and that it's wrong to make excuses as to why someone might choose to physically assault their spouse.  

Emotional abuse is wrong.  Physical abuse is wrong.  ANY abuse is wrong.  Why am I still having to say that in 2016?!

The press have this vile habit of looking for reasons whenever a celebrity makes an allegation of abuse.  It fuels those water-cooler conversations, where people at work natter about serious topics such as abuse, as though it's flippant gossip.  "Oh, I heard she cheated on him.  Poor bloke, watching his wife flirt with other women in front of him.  I bet he was just so gutted and upset, he couldn't help but snap.  And he's proper gorgeous, isn't he?  I still would, you know!  *nudge, wink*"

And that leads me neatly on to the other thing that society still continues to get wrong, when it comes to abuse.  We STILL seem to believe that abusers are ugly-looking types in stained vests, outwardly creepy, openly unpleasant and probably on low incomes.  No matter how many times it's proven, over and over, that abusers can come from anywhere, look as gorgeous as an angel and be as charming as it's possible to be, we still cling to the belief that it could never, ever be someone we know or like.  Oh, no.  We'd be able to tell.  Abusers are horrible.  Actors, musicians. respected writers... We like them.  They're funny in interviews!  They look incredible on the red carpet!  They have talent!  How can they possibly be abusive?!  Don't be stupid.

And just to further compound that ridiculous belief, the friends and family come rushing out in defence, just as they have in the Depp case.  "He's lovely; I've seen him with his romantic partners and he's adorable."  Except...  Well, nobody knows what's going on behind closed doors, besides the people who are actually living behind them.  When I walked away from my abusive ex, I lost a friend I'd had since I was twelve years old, because she just couldn't believe that the man she knew - and had been out with herself - could possibly have treated me the way I claimed he had.  But here's the thing: abusers are great at portraying themselves well in public.  They have to be charming.  They have to be good at manipulating people.  They wouldn't be able to abuse at all if they weren't, because nobody would fall for the act.  My ex was funny, intelligent, seemingly sensitive and up for a laugh with his friends.  If I had asked around after I left him, I can say with almost 100% certainty, that not one of those friends would have labelled him as abusive.  Because they weren't there when he was abusive.  That was all for me.

This utterly stupid notion that people who seem clever, witty and who look good can't possibly be nasty in private is one of the major reasons that people who experience abuse don't speak out.  They fear they won't be believed.  And all too often, we see that fear realised.

Amber & Johnny.  Getty images.

What really happened between Amber Heard and Johnny Depp may never be known.  It could turn out that Amber did make up her allegations, in which case Depp was right to refer to her as "an affront to real victims of domestic violence."  Equally, it could be proved that Depp was abusive towards her and, regardless of the "reason," that is despicable and cannot be justified.

Whatever happens, the unfortunate fact is that this case has yet again proved that as a society, we have a very long way to go before we can say we understand abuse, or report on it with anything remotely resembling sensitivity or responsibility.  And that continues to shame us all.

Let Me Tell You About My Super Power...

SUPER EM!  My powers don't extend to photo manipulation, sadly.

I've been using a phrase for a really long time and it's only recently that I've realised that it's the wrong one.

Four and a half years ago, I found the strength to walk away from an abusive relationship.  I don't use the term "found the strength" lightly, because believe me, walking away and putting myself back together again was the hardest thing I have ever done.

Since then, as with most survivors, I've learnt that some things trigger memories of what I experienced and I will therefore be more sensitive to them.  Generally, once you know what your triggers are, you can either avoid them, or work on ways to protect yourself, should you encounter them.  Another thing you learn, as you're rebuilding yourself, is that certain things you say and do are likely to be influenced by what you went through.  I might react strangely to something that seems harmless and I have to be able to recognise that and understand where my reaction comes from.  I call those reactions and triggers my "abuse hangover."

"Abuse hangover" is, for me at least, a good umbrella term for all those funny little reactions I have to what seem like minor issues, or for the (thankfully ever-decreasing) list of things that can be triggering.  But there's one thing that shouldn't be lumped into that catch-all term and that is my ability to spot abusive tendencies in people.

In the first months and even years after I walked away, got help and put myself back together again, I  would sometimes see someone behaving in a snide, manipulative manner and feel that I had to have a bit of a word with myself before I inwardly judged them for it.  "Oh, Emma.  It's your 'abuse hangover' talking," I'd tell myself.  And sometimes, it really was just that; the person was having an off day, or I was only seeing half of the situation and it wasn't fair to make an assumption without all of the facts.  It's true to say that when you're fresh out of an abusive situation, you're often highly attuned to the signs you need to be looking out for, because even if you're receiving counselling, or support from an abuse charity (as I was), you're often still in that place where you can't believe you missed all the red flags when they were dangled right in front of your nose for so long.  Your senses are heightened and any behaviour that you perceive as bad is going to be magnified in your mind.

But there comes a point where it's not just the "hangover" from what you experienced that's colouring your judgement.  There comes a point - perhaps, as in my case, long after you've finished having support and you've left the abuse well behind in your past - when you realise that recognising abusive behaviour when you see it isn't a "hangover."  It's a gift.  More than that, it's a freaking SUPER POWER.

Being able to spot when a person is being manipulative, coercive, controlling or purposefully intimidating is a skill that, in a perfect world, we would all have.  If we did, perhaps abuse would happen far less.  Sadly, the fact is that abusers are clever.  Manipulative people know which strings to pull, to ensure they remain sympathetic and blameless.  Coercive people know how to make you feel as though you made the choice that they wanted you to make.  Control can be so subtle that you don't even realise you're being controlled until it's much too late.

People often pride themselves on believing that abuse - in any form - could never happen to them, but the fact is that abuse is insidious and we often don't even realise that it's happening to us.  I certainly didn't.  

But now, four and a half years after I left my abuser, I've put myself back together, learnt a whole heap about abuse, moved forwards with my life and, crucially, I know the signs, now.  I'd never be arrogant or foolish enough to suggest that I could never possibly succumb to any form of abuse again; as I said earlier, abusers are clever and manipulative.  But it would be harder.  These days, I recognise when someone is trying to manipulate me or others.  I can tell when someone is behaving in a coercive manner.  I know when someone is gaslighting.

Those are skills to be proud of.  They were hard "won" and they will protect me as I continue to move forward through life.  That's why I refuse to call them a "hangover," anymore.  They're my super powers and I'm lucky to have them, even if I did come by them in a particularly awful manner.

Abusive people: I SEE YOU.

Now, I don't claim to have all the answers.  Being able to tell when someone has abusive tendencies is one thing, but knowing how to deal with the situation (if avoiding that person forevermore isn't an option) is a puzzle I have yet to solve.  Knowing what your triggers are is a good starting point and being able to have coping methods in place is always wise.  Even if you simply go to your metaphorical "happy place" if you encounter an abusive person, that's a helpful step towards not letting them get under your skin.  Remember you're free, now.  That ability to spot abusive behaviour in the first place is testament to what you went through to get to where you are, today.  So, there's no shame in going to your mental happy place, if you can't avoid an abusive person.

For the record, my happy place looks like this:

Oh, so happy.  So very, very happy.

In summary, there's absolutely no way I intend to write off my ability to spot abusive behaviour in a person as a mere "hangover" from what I experienced.  It's a skill.  It's a gift.  It's a super power.  

If anyone needs me, I'll be over here, wearing my pants over my jeans.

Emotional Abuse & Me

Me, back in early 2010.  That's a hood, it's honestly not my hair...

In March 2012, something life-changing happened to me.  That's not hyperbole.  It genuinely was a moment that changed my life and changed me forever.

I'd been having counselling for three or four months, following the end of a relationship.  A relationship in which I'd convinced myself I was a bad person.  A weak, sad, pathetic, desperate, clingy, needy woman, whom nobody could ever really love.  I'd been with someone who'd given me a sob story about how messed up he was and how he didn't really know how to behave in a relationship.  He'd told me he couldn't help his behaviour; he was scared by how close I'd gotten to him, so he reacted by pushing me away.  And I stuck around, wanting to help him, so surely I was sort of to blame for whatever he did to me after he'd warned me off?  As he himself put it, the last time I ever spoke to him face to face: "You knew what you were getting into.  I'm not to blame for any of this.  You are."

After I finally found the strength to walk away from him - nearly two years after we first met - I was convinced I'd "abandoned" him.  He used the word often enough to describe people no longer in his life, so I suppose it was drummed into my brain.  

I blamed myself.  I hated myself.  I found myself drinking a glass of wine most nights "just to take the edge off" the pain I was feeling.  I'd cry myself to sleep and hope I never woke up.  Every morning, when I did wake up, I'd find myself with a head full of dark questions: "Why am I so useless?"  "Why doesn't everyone just ditch me?  I'm not worth knowing."  "Why wasn't I strong enough to help him?"  "Why am I such a failure?"

When it all got too much, I eventually sought counselling.  I spent my sessions putting myself down, acting as prosecution, judge and jury at my own trial.  I found myself guilty.  My counsellor sat, listened, asked questions and made notes.  Then, in my penultimate session, my counsellor leaned forwards, with a pamphlet in her hands.  She spoke in a very soft, calm voice.  She said simply: "What you've been describing is abuse.  I think you need to call this number and speak to someone about what happened to you."

It was like a bucket of cold water to the face.  I sat and shivered in my seat.  I said just five words:

"But he never hit me."

So many of us, when we hear the word "abuse," think of two things: Physical violence and rape.  I'm quite ashamed to say that even as a childcare practitioner of 14 years' experience, trained in abuse and how to spot it, I didn't really realise that emotional abuse was something that happened between two adults.  

I went home with the abuse pamphlet in my trembling hands.  My counsellor had to be wrong.  I wasn't abused!  I was to blame; I had brought this all on myself.  Still, I knew my last counselling session would take place a fortnight later and I'd be expected to have rung the abuse charity whose pamphlet I'd been given.  My stomach churned at the thought.  How could I phone a helpline used by women who'd been beaten and raped?!  I checked the times of operation and decided to ring after the helpline was closed.  That way, I could tell my counsellor I'd tried to get in touch with the charity, without actually having to do it.  If they had an answerphone service, I'd leave a message and they'd probably listen to it, scoff at my time-wasting and never call me back.  Either way, I had a convenient excuse for not having to actually speak to someone who'd call me out on my stupidity.  I left a message that began with the words "I'm sorry, I'm wasting your time..."

A day or two later, the phone rang.  A very nice, very kind lady with a soft voice explained that she was calling from the abuse charity - did I have time to talk?  I thought I was going to be sick.  They were surely about to tell me off for attempting to waste their valuable services!  I don't think my voice has ever trembled so much in all my life.

And yet shockingly - to me, at least - the lady on the end of the phone didn't tell me off.  She never said I was wasting her time.  Instead, she explained what emotional and psychological abuse was and how difficult it is to spot when you're in it.  She told me - more than once in that first phone call - that it wasn't my fault and that it was okay to let go of the blame I'd been holding on to.  The blame that had been poisoning every aspect of my life.  I'd found myself guilty.  She said I was innocent.

Three months (and several phone calls) later, I began weekly sessions with a support worker.  Ten months after that, I was a completely changed person.

I was going through the night, dead to the world, without crying myself to sleep first.

I had no need whatsoever to "take the edge off" the pain.  The pain was gone.

I didn't hate myself.  I didn't blame myself.  I saw myself having a bright, positive future.  I saw myself as having survived.

Most importantly of all, I was able to use the word "abuse."  I finally realised that my counsellor had been right, on that Earth-shattering day.  The use of my ex's tragic past to explain his behaviour had been manipulation.  The suggestion that if I left, I'd be abandoning him, was coercion to make me stay.  The insistence that the relationship had to be on his terms, labelled as he saw fit, was control.  The digs about my weight... The comments about me being "desperate and clingy" when all I wanted was to be shown some affection...  The demands for sex as soon as I'd arrived to see him, yet the accusation of me being a "pathetic slut" if I tried to initiate it on my terms...  The times he'd throw something across the room and say I made him "violent..."  The time he forced me into the shower, blocking the bathroom door, making me scrub my feet so I was less "fucking disgusting..."  The time he told me that if I was pregnant, he'd give me "the coat-hanger treatment..."  The times he compared me unfavourably to other women - ones he'd been with before me and ones he slept with whilst we were together... The times he'd get what he wanted sexually, then roll over and warn me in no uncertain terms not to touch him, leaving me feeling alone and confused... The times he'd deliberately wind me up and then leave me sexually frustrated... The times he'd deliberately make me angry or upset, so he could criticise my reaction and use it as justification for refusing to commit to a relationship with me...The insistence that none of it was his fault; the world was cruel and out to get him and he was just trying to deal with his issues the only way he knew how...  It was abuse.  All of it.

And once I saw that, I was angry.  Not just with him, but with myself.  How had I not seen it?!  Why did I put up with it all?!

But of course, I was being manipulated.  I fell for his tragic sob story.  The whole "I was abused as a child; I only push you away because I'm scared... I don't know any other way to behave" shebang.  And I wanted to fix him.  I - as crazy as it might sound, given the above list of atrocious things he said and did - loved him.  And when he told me he loved me too, I believed him.  I was going to see it through, however hard it was.  I was going to help him let go of his awful past and move forwards into a happy, loving future.  

Eventually, my amazing support worker helped me to let go of the anger I felt at my own perceived weakness and made me realise that I wasn't weak at all.  I was so, so strong.  I had put him first, even when it hurt me to do so, because I loved him and believed I was helping him.  And maybe, if he had wanted to grow and change as a person, I would have been.  But he didn't want that.  He wanted to use me.  He wanted an excuse to treat me - and others - however he saw fit.  He chose to abuse. 

Abuse is always, always a choice.  Abusers don't go around controlling, manipulating or otherwise abusing people every minute of every day.  They often have jobs, hobbies and social circles, in which they behave as anyone else would.  They can be charming and even affectionate (otherwise, you'd spot the abuse more easily and leave far sooner).  In the moments when a person chooses to abuse, whatever form that abuse takes, they do it through choice.  Not because they had a terrible past and don't know any better.  Not because you've done something to cause them to have no choice but to abuse you.

Once I stepped out from the shadow of my experience, I was able to see it clearly for what it was.  And now, three and a half years after leaving, I can understand why I didn't recognise it at the time.  I heard his "explanations" and I accepted them.  I thought I could help him.  I focused on the times we sat up all night, snuggled together, pouring our hearts out to one another.  I held on to the times he'd make me laugh, or hold me when I cried.  I saw the relationship I wanted us to have, whilst he manipulated me into being blind to what we really had.  Which, of course, was nothing.

I want to go back in time and tell this girl "I know you like him, but just RUN."

Now, more than five years after I first met my ex, I co-run a campaign called Fifty Shades Is Domestic Abuse.  Not because I'm a prude, who hates the thought of BDSM.  Not because I want to censor anyone's reading or viewing habits.  But because when I read the trilogy, I was stunned to realise I was reading something that may as well have been about my ex, give or take a few billion in the bank and a pair of handcuffs.  The manipulation, the coercion, the control...  It was all there.

Fans of the book often tell me there's no abuse in Fifty Shades.  The author tells survivors the same on a pretty much daily basis, often in a hugely offensive, borderline abusive manner (she even sent a rape survivor triggered by her books a gif of a woman throwing a book at someone's head, with the hashtag "#ignorant").  But just as I didn't recognise my own abuse at the time, it doesn't mean it wasn't there.  The abuse in Fifty Shades is very much there.  But when you point it out, the two myths I clung onto get trotted out by fans:  "But he doesn't know any better; he's messed up!"  And: "She sticks around and she cures him with her love."

I know it's a fantasy and the whole point of fantasy is that it doesn't have to have its roots in reality.  But considering emotional/psychological abuse is so insidious that it often goes unrecognised even by the people living with it, I don't think we need fantasy that romanticises it and perpetuates the idea that sticking with an abusive person will cause them to change in the end so that you live happily ever after.

All of which brings me to what caused me to write this piece in the first place.  In the past 48 hours, three separate Fifty Shades fans have contacted me to tell me that emotional abuse "doesn't exist."  One, a survivor of physical violence, even made the shocking decision to send me a photo of herself covered in bruises, with the tag: "THIS IS ABUSE, YOU FUCKING IDIOT.  THERE IS NO OTHER FORM!"

Except there is.  Of course there is.  Emotional & psychological abuse are recognised by all major abuse charities and by the government of this country.  It may not cause bruises, but it causes scars that run deep, even if they cannot be seen by the naked eye.  The fact that there are people out there - and I believe there are far more than just three - who refuse to believe that such a thing exists proves that we need far greater awareness of what constitutes abuse and where to get help.

Five years after I met my ex, I spend some of my time writing on abuse and campaigning against it.  I'm not "weak" or "pathetic," like he said I was.  I've grown and become stronger than I ever thought I could be.  I have a voice and I'm proud to make it heard.

So when you next hear someone say they've experienced emotional abuse, don't tell them that such a thing doesn't exist.  Don't ignore them or dismiss them.  Listen.

WRSAC North Cornwall (to whom I dedicate this post)

Rape Crisis

Women's Aid