It was his explanation that was just about the end of the iPad. Charles Saatchi explained, suavely and confidently, that the photographs were misleading.

That he and his wife, Nigella Lawson, were discussing the children, and that to "emphasise his point" he had held his hand to her throat. It was, he explained, merely a "playful tiff".

And it was then, with an effort of will, I carefully put down the iPad and walked away.

Please tell me no-one bought that bullshit. Seriously? Did you see the look on Ms Lawson's face? Clearly no-one thought to tell her it was just a "playful tiff". And who puts their hands around someone's throat to "make their point"?

This was not a tiff, nor was it an argument. It was violence.

And so now, I need to make it clear - if it is not already - that this is not going to be some coolly unbiased look at the dynamic of domestic violence.

I need to be up front about the fact that I have been in an abusive relationship.

I have had too many dealings with police while dressed only in my nightie and dressing gown, too many calls from Victim Support, dealings with Women's Refuge, with lawyers, crying to my friend; feeling frightened, angry, sad, humiliated and ashamed.

There were too many "incidents", as I euphemistically called them, times when I was forced to leave my home - usually at night - either by being pushed physically out the door, or because I feared for my safety. Continue reading

Sources

• Claire Allison in Stuff
• Image: The Telegraph

The hand around the throat, the pinching of a nose - in public view in a big city - you can't help wondering what Mr Saatchi's last wife meant when she divorced him for "unreasonable behaviour".

As painful as it must be for Nigella Lawson to have the whole world know about her predicament, it's important that we do, not in some cheap women's magazine tell-all expose, but in the adult world of real life.

We now have proof that when a woman is beautiful, clever, famous and independently wealthy, it's no protection against domestic violence, because that's what an observer photographed on June 6.

Here is all the evidence you need that it doesn't just happen among the under-classes of the world, the people who are not like us.

The sequence is so familiar that an estimated one in four women knows about it first hand.

There is seduction, of course, the apparent meeting of minds, the talk of respect and protestations of love.

There is a shoulder to cry on, good advice given, humour appreciated, the life of the mind and of culture savoured together. Men at every level of society can manifest such things to women who believe a man is necessary to feel whole. Then, slowly, it changes.

This man shouts, Ms Lawson is on record as saying, and then she goes quiet and resentful, she says, as women do, because they don't want a man's anger to escalate.

Where do we learn to be this craven? I call this - the shouting - violence already, because it's about domination and control of another person through fear. Possibly some women behave like this and they are no better, but this week it's about a celebrity woman cook and a famous male art lover. Continue reading

Sources

• Rosemary McLeod in Stuff
• Image: The Guardian

Rosemary McLeod is a NZ journalist and columnist.

When I became the mother of one, then two, girls I would occasionally think about the prevalence of eating disorders and what I could do to make sure my girls never suffered from one. But the more I worked in my job on this section, and in my role as patron of a women's legal organisation, I realised that there was a greater ill that could befall them: getting into an abusive domestic relationship.

Two weeks ago, I got a particularly disturbing letter from a reader who suspects her sister is in such a relationship. The sister had isolated herself from her whole family, and when they had last seen her, she appeared terrified. I couldn't stop thinking about it; 48 hours later the Sunday papers showed Nigella Lawson in a row with her husband, his hand around her throat.

Domestic violence is a particularly pernicious crime. The very place where you are meant to feel safe - home - is often the place of most danger. The very person who should look after you - your partner - attacks you or diminishes you. I wish I could say I can't imagine what that is like, but unfortunately, as I'll explain later, I can.

In March 2013, the Home Office published figures relating to violence against women and girls in the UK. It showed that the previous year, 1.2 million women suffered domestic abuse. And these are just the ones that come on to the Home Office radar. Continue reading

Sources

• Annalisa Barbieri in The Gaurdian
• Image: Capital EAP

Annalisa Barbieri is a Guardian columnist and also writes for the Economist's Intelligent Life magazine, the New Statesman and the Independent.