I spent approximately five years in a toxic, abusive relationship. I didn’t really understand that what I’d been through constituted domestic violence until a police officer literally spelled it out for me.

Writing became my therapy for myself, both when the end of the relationship was fresh, in the period of uncertainty that followed, and when things took a more sinister turn and police involvement was required. It has allowed me to view what, as a whole, is overwhelming, through a more focussed eye. This has enabled me to better work through the complex, and often contradictory, emotions associated with a relationship of this nature, and it’s demise.

The old advice goes that in order to eat the elephant, you have to take tiny bites. And in each new piece of writing, I take another bite of my particular elephant.