'When I confided in a friend about my abusive relationship, her response was unforgivable.'

We all hear about the one woman who dies every week from domestic violence and we shake our heads in rage.

How could that *insert choice word* do that?, you might hiss. She didn't deserve that.

But have you ever thought about all those women who suffer from domestic violence in silence?

One in four women has experienced violence from an intimate partner, and one in 14 men. (Men are just as important as women but for the sake of this article we will be focussing on women.)

That means this woman could be a mother at your child's school; perhaps a colleague, someone you pass down the street, or even a friend.

Watch: Can you spot the red flags of domestic violence? Post continues below.

It is well known that perpetrators of violence commonly isolate their victims from family and friends, which in itself breaks a woman down and adds to her vulnerability.

What is less well understood is that family and friends will often 'freeze out' the victim. The final piece of the triad is that she will often isolate herself.

Many women are afraid to talk about it because they are worried that they will judged, and ashamed that they have chosen to remain in an abusive relationship.

Some feel that their issues are a burden, or that talking about it may negatively affect their relationships with their partner or kids.

Victims with children can fear being labelled a 'bad parent' for staying with an abusive  partner. There's also the fear the kids may be taken away if they are not seen to be protective.

When they do talk about it, they are often met with awkwardness, friends taking a step back, or with the throwaway phrase, "You should just leave."

I have experienced all of these, as well as one friend telling me they didn't want to be my friend anymore because my involvement with my abusive partner was too stressful for her.

I was in a seven-year abusive relationship with my kid's dad. During an argument, if he didn't feel like I handled his issue correctly, he would grow rapidly angry and abusive. He would yell at me whilst I breastfed my babies, follow me around the house, and keep me up many nights against my will with insults and threats.

As a mother of a six-month baby and two-year-old at the time, I made a new 'play-date' friend  who I thought I could confide in. As soon as I told her what was going on, she did the slow fade. Though I was hurt, I could understand why, putting myself in her shoes.

Why would someone want expose their kids to a family who has domestic violence happening in their household?

Some family members boldly stated that they wouldn't have anything to do with me if I continued to engage in a relationship with my partner.

I also got, "Put up or shut up" from one family member, which was super hurtful.

Relationship coach Jonathan Hartley describes the loneliness and isolation of domestic violence victims as a secondary trauma.

"Over the years in my work, I've seen many survivors describe feeling really disconnected even in crowded rooms, struggling with basic social interactions like filling out emergency contact forms or even maintaining the simplest of friendships," he said.

"I had one client explain it as feeling that she thought she was grieving someone who actually had never existed, just the person she thought they were... and that's very difficult to reconcile, that belief versus reality."

For me, the abusive pattern kept happening, yet I wouldn't leave.

Why didn't you?, you may ask.

He would apologise and say he was trying to be better. Then things would be good and so I stayed thinking it was improving until the next blow up. 

Guilt also kept me bound. He told me that I hurt him and I caused the issue with my behaviour so I felt bad at times. 

Then there was the biggest one: fear.

I was terrified to leave in case he went for custody of my young children, aged one to four, which he had threatened many times before. I was afraid of the court fallout, the possibility that he may escalate and do something bad to me, and also the affect that leaving would have on me and the kids.

I also had feelings for him, which made it more difficult to leave.

I understand that would be hard for some to fathom — why one would love an abuser who treats them badly?

The thing is, an abusive relationship is rarely just bad. We had some amazing times, shared beautiful memories with our kids, and genuinely had feelings for each other.

So in my shame, I stopped talking to anyone but my two closest friends and my mum about what was happening at home. I also  spoke to my counsellor and 1800Respect instead.

I'm not the only one who stopped reaching out to loved ones while in an abusive relaitonship.

Another domestic violence survivor I spoke to pointed to another common fear: the fear of not being believed.

"When you're in it, there's a lot you don't see… It was the manipulation, the narcissism, the gaslighting that chipped away at my strength," she said.

"Friends and family were none the wiser — he played his role well, the 'good guy', which left me isolated and trapped, fearing that if I spoke up, they'd never believe me.

"And in the end, they didn't. Some even blamed me when I left, too shocked by the reality of who he really was."

Disturbingly, a lack of support from loved ones can drive a woman back into her abuser's arms.

"What's particularly devastating is how this loneliness can make survivors question their decision to leave in the first place, with some women saying that they were even considering returning to their abusers just to escape the isolation," said Hartley.

When I finally left following a physically abusive incident, the friend who helped me build up the courage to go also faded into the background.

Whilst three of my close friends still supported me unwaveringly, I felt alone. I was not just a DV survivor but a single mum. Which was another taboo label.

Consider this also: On average, it takes a woman seven attempts to leave an abusive partner. 

Can you imagine the shame associated with a woman telling all her friends and family she is finally leaving, only to return a month later?

She then has to deal with the conflict of friends telling her to break it off while he is saying he has changed, and to believe him this time. This time it's different!

It is an incredibly challenging predicament as a DV survivor and can be taxing both emotionally and physically. 

At their lowest and weakest, a woman needs support, not isolation.

I understand there are plenty of amazing support initiatives for those experiencing DV, but human connection from loved ones and those around them is equally important.

Hartley also explained that it is essential it is to have some sort of support systems for a proper recovery.

"The healing journey often requires rebuilding trust not just in others, but also in one's own actual reality," he said.

As for me, I'm still working through the trauma, but I have also done a lot of work on  rebuilding my sense of self. I still sometimes feel the fear of judgment when I speak to people about my experience, but then I remember that these conversations are powerful.

We should be having more of them to bring awareness to the issue that is so rampant, yet so swept under the rug.

So how can you better support a woman going through DV?

Reach out.

It is best to talk about the things you've noticed that concern you, rather than to give your opinion. For exmaple:

"I'm wondering if everything is okay at home?"

"I've noticed you seem frightened of your partner. Is that right? Is everything okay?"

The person may deny there is a problem or not want to talk about it. If so, respect that.

Let her know that you care and are there to listen without judgment.

Don't tell her to leave.

Please don't insist she leaves or criticise her for staying in the relationship. She will need to come to that decision on her own.

And do not, I repeat, do not give her an ultimatum of your relationship with her if she doesn't leave.

Don't judge.

Don't judge her if she goes back to him after leaving. Often that's when she needs the most support. 

You can let her know that you are afraid for her and her children, and help her consider how dangerous the violence may be.

You could assist her in making a safety plan or help connect her with an organisation like 1800Respect, Safe Steps Victoria or The Orange Door.

If you see an assault or she says she is not safe, call the police on 000. 

Be empathetic. 

Believe what she tells you. Never blame her for what's happening.  Let her know that no one deserves to be abused, beaten or threatened. It's not her fault.

And to the woman who is suffering in silence: I see you. You don't need to do this alone. The first step to moving forward from this is reaching out for support.

As scary as it might feel, please reach out to a trusted loved one, and a domestic violence support service. A support service such as Safe Steps, The Orange Door, or 1800RESPECT will be able to help you develop a safety plan and/or link you in with support networks.

If you or anyone you know needs to speak with an expert, please contact 1800 RESPECT (1800 737 732) — the National Sexual Assault, Domestic and Family Violence Counselling Service. If you are in immediate danger, call 000.

Mamamia is a charity partner of RizeUp Australia, a Queensland-based organisation that helps women and families move on after the devastation of domestic violence. If you would like to support their mission to deliver life-changing and practical support to these families when they need it most, you can donate here. You can also donate to their Christmas Appeal here.

Feature image: Getty.