The voice of 29-year-old Maryna, who left an abusive relationship a year ago, still trembles as she recounts her experiences. Looking back, she can hardly believe how she spent six years with a man who stripped her of a sense of self-worth and confidence.

Their romantic relationship began through social media when Maryna was still a medical university student. She was attracted to Yevhen because of their shared profession and interests. Despite an 11-year age gap, they seemed to be on the same wavelength, and by the time they arranged their first in-person meeting a month later, she felt as if she were visiting an old friend she hadn’t seen in a long time.

For several years, their relationship continued at a distance, with periodic visits to each other as Maryna was studying in another city. Even then, as she now realizes, there were "red flags" in Yevhen’s behavior. He constantly asked about her whereabouts and became irritated when she met up with friends.

Hypercontrol disguised as care

"I understood that his actions were meant to seem like care and protection, but they were excessive. It was more like hypercontrol—he dictated what I should do, and if I did things my way, he was offended," Maryna said.

After she moved in with Yevhen upon finishing her education, his control intensified—he insisted on accompanying her everywhere. "I had no friends or company in the new city, and I had no opportunity to build one. On the other hand, he never introduced me to his friends nor visited my family, always finding excuses to postpone the trip," she says.

When Maryna tried to discuss their future after their engagement—moving out of his parents’ home or planning a wedding—Yevhen saw it as pushiness, became irritated, and refused to share his vision. Despite living together, he also avoided creating a shared household budget. Since Maryna had just finished university and had no stable job, she had to rely on her parents financially.

Imposing his opinion as the only right one

Due to constant misunderstandings and Yevhen's emotional distance, Maryna was on the verge of breaking up with him. However, when she unexpectedly became pregnant, she abandoned the idea. Her pregnancy only highlighted other problems.

"When I found out I was pregnant, he took control of all medical decisions—choosing the doctor and arranging appointments. He was so insistent that I had to register with the doctor he selected. At the same time, he questioned all medical recommendations and tests required by evidence-based medicine," Maryna says.

It reached the point where he secretly replaced her vitamins with others, which worsened her condition due to side effects.

The COVID-19 lockdown brought new challenges. Yevhen outright forbade her to leave the house, even for medical check-ups.

"He believed that if women in the past gave birth without ultrasounds, tests, and vitamins, then I didn’t need them either. He said I could get infected at the clinic. It was a mix of hypochondria and overprotectiveness," Maryna said.

Yet, when she suffered from stomach pains, Yevhen ignored the woman's requests for medicine and instead scolded her for her diet.

Formal marriage to simplify bureaucracy

The late returns of her husband annoyed Maryna at first, but in the end she became indifferent to them. In the midst of their crisis, her dreams of a wedding ceremony and celebration faded into the background. The couple got legally married only a month after their daughter’s birth, solely to simplify paperwork.

"There was no deeper meaning in that event," Maryna admits.

The birth of their child unleashed new toxic patterns in Yevhen’s behavior. Out of jealousy of their daughter, he physically assaulted Maryna for the first time in the maternity ward. The rift between them deepened as they clashed over parenting. Yevhen opposed vaccinations and baby formula, even though Maryna initially struggled with breastfeeding.

"He blamed me for being incompetent, accused me of hating our child, and questioned what kind of mother I was if I couldn’t breastfeed naturally. We managed to get some vaccines at the hospital and agreed to buy others on our own. For an entire month, he forbade me from taking our daughter outside, so we ‘walked’ on the balcony," Maryna said.

Meanwhile, he periodically "suggested" that she leave the child with him, arguing that she was "young, beautiful, and promising," so she could have more children later.

"It worried me, and I cried, but I didn't consider taking the child and leaving him. I was too scared to be alone with a baby in my arms," Maryna shares.

The financial situation was also difficult. The cost of vaccines, baby clothes, and formula fell on Maryna, who was on maternity leave, while Yevhen refused to contribute. Life became a constant emotional rollercoaster—periods of intense criticism and conflict alternated with moments of calm and apparent acceptance from Yevhen. 

With the start of the full-scale war, the family moved to his parents' private home for safety reasons. At that time, their daughter was starting solid foods, and Yevhen asked for his mother’s advice on everything.

"He didn’t listen to me when it came to our child. But he didn’t respect his parents' authority either. If their opinion matched his, it was correct, but if not, he always believed he was right," Maryna said.

As their daughter grew up, Yevhen’s criticism of Maryna as a mother intensified.

"I played, talked, and walked with her the ‘wrong’ way. If I needed to go somewhere, I had to wait for him to come home from work or time it so that I could leave and return before he got back. But I rarely even took her to the store because I was afraid he’d find out," she recalls.

Hidden recorders and cameras

Over time, Yevhen began threatening Maryna with video evidence of her supposedly mistreating their child. He told her that if she ever considered divorce, he would submit materials to the authorities and ensure the child stayed with him. At first, she didn’t take it seriously, but later noticed that he left one of his cell phones at home with the recorder on.

"When he was home, he would blatantly film me. If our child refused to eat porridge, he would comment that it was over-salted or stale. My paranoia grew to the point where I searched for hidden cameras everywhere—even inspecting mosquitoes," Maryna shares.

Her anxiety and distress affected their daughter, and Yevhen recorded every child's tantrum.

"He only captured the sound, so what was happening with the child remains unclear," Maryna says. As their daughter grew older, Yevhen turned her against her mother, playing the "good cop."

"Mom is bad because she says it's time to take a bath and clean up the toys, while dad allows more playtime. Mom insists on eating porridge, while dad gives candy instead," Maryna recalls.

According to her, for a while, when Yevhen returned from work, he would ask their daughter whether Mom had mistreated her and whether she had behaved well.

"But what does ‘mom mistreated’ even mean for a child? Eventually, as soon as the door opened, she would run to him shouting that I mistreated her, without even understanding what it meant for him. And I was terrified that he was recording it all," Maryna says.

It was only when her husband escalated to physical violence against her that Maryna shared her misfortune with her family. The breaking point was when he broke her finger. After seeking medical help and reporting it to the police, she returned home with her parents and sisters only to collect her belongings. "I didn’t have to think long about what to pack—I had already been replaying this scenario in my head for six months," she says.

A shelter as a safe haven

By that time, she had consulted a lawyer who reassured her that Yevhen had no legal grounds to take their child away. She filed for divorce and, fearing for her safety, turned to the Lubny City Social Services Center. There, specialists referred her to a domestic violence shelter with a confidential address. Maryna and her daughter stayed there for three months.

"I received tremendous help. I arrived feeling nervous, intimidated, and completely lacking confidence as a woman, a mother, and a professional. But I left as a completely different person, no longer affected by his provocations," Maryna says.

Although her three-year-old child had no experience interacting with strangers, according to the survivor, the shelter specialists quickly found an approach to connect with her.

"From the very first day, I never felt like I was in a specialized facility. It felt more like I had come to visit old friends and simply changed my surroundings. For my daughter, each staff member became a friend in some way," she said. Thanks to the specialists' recommendations, Maryna was able to find a job in her field—something she had stopped hoping for, as she had "lost faith in her abilities."

This experience, as Maryna points out, taught her to prioritize self-care—her feelings and needs.

"In my previous relationship, I was unhappy but kept suppressing my own needs, and that was a mistake. You want to break free from the cycle of violence, but you can’t because, in the end, you lose yourself. That’s why support in such cases is invaluable," she says.

The shelter in Lubny operates under the project "Cities and Communities Free from Domestic Violence". The project is being implemented in cooperation with the Ministry of Social Policy of Ukraine with the support of the governments of Canada and the United Kingdom as part of the UNFPA, the United Nations Population Fund in Ukraine, program to combat and prevent gender-based violence.