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THE fear in Mel B’s face is palpable as she is beaten, dragged across the room, thrown to the floor, punched and nearly strangled.
I was deeply shaken by her performance in the Women’s Aid video highlighting domestic violence, and it made me well up. I can’t deny it triggered some unpleasant memories, too.
Ulrika Jonsson with Stan Collymore in 1998[/caption]
It has been well documented that I was in one such well-known relationship when Premiership footballer Stan Collymore dragged me to the floor and kicked me in the head in a Scottish pub in Paris on the eve of the 1998 World Cup.
Thankfully, it happened in a public arena — by chance with a camera crew present — or I genuinely believe I would not be writing this today.
I never spoke about it publicly, apart from writing down the facts in my autobiography. However, there are some important points to glean from it and to tie in with the state of affairs today.
People did, without doubt, look at me as if I was stupid for ending up in such a relationship. Women from any walk of life could find themselves in the situation, which is why the Women’s Aid film is so crucial.
One in three women globally — that amounts to 736million — are subjected to physical and/or sexual violence. And what we don’t know yet is what the figures will look like post-pandemic.
After a year of being locked up with your abuser and with fewer places to turn to, due to cuts, we are potentially dealing with a whole other silent pandemic.
Mindsets may have changed but the figures appear to be worsening. By the time I was thrown to thsse floor 23 years ago, I’m ashamed to say it was the third time in my life a man had raised his hand to me.
By the time I was thrown to the floor 23 years ago, I’m ashamed to say it was the third time in my life a man had raised his hand to me.
Ulrika Jonsson
The first time it happened I was only 19. I was accused by my boyfriend at the time of “flirting with his friends” and your unconscious bias might be telling you that I probably was, because we still believe that there is always a trigger, a reason, a justification for the rage against a woman.
But each time that I was the subject of someone else’s loss of control, it was never that which damaged me most. Bruises and broken bones heal. It’s the psychological damage that endures.
Traditionally any women rooted in a relationship of violence were considered foolish for not leaving. In fact, if you were an intelligent woman why would you even find yourself in an abusive situation?
If someone pushes you around, gives you a slap or knocks you about, you’re capable of scraping your dignity and self-respect off the floor and walking out, surely?
But it’s never that simple because attached to the physical violence comes a long list of related crimes. Twenty years ago we didn’t talk about coercion.
We didn’t mention control. No one saw signs of financial restriction, enforced isolation and emotional torment as being on a par with the physical damage inflicted on someone. Which is why I never read the signs myself.
I never connected the two — I never understood that someone controlling my mind, isolating me from my friends and family, eroding my self-esteem, continually keeping me on my toes, was turning a confident, capable, independent woman into a nervous, paranoid wreck.
Mel B in Women’s Aid film ‘Love Should Not Hurt’[/caption]
None of those things ever made me feel like I was in an abusive relationship. But that didn’t make me less intelligent. In fact, my emotional intelligence was high and alert to my surroundings. So much so that I thought it was me who was the issue.
Mel B claims she was in an abusive relationship with her producer husband Stephen Belafonte for a decade — something he strongly denies. Every time we saw her smile and shine on the red carpet, little did we know that she was crumbling inside.
If there were no bruises, there was no problem. I wasn’t forced to endure what she apparently did. I haven’t had to experience a fraction of what many women withstand every day in lengthy relationships complicated by the presence of children and the absence of humility.
EMOTIONAL DESTRUCTION
So when the story broke of my head’s collision with Collymore’s foot and I was asked by domestic abuse charities to speak out, time and time again, I did not.
I did not because I felt that his one flash of hatred and fury felt so minimal, so reduced, so insignificant when I measured it against the suffering of other women who were being pummelled daily.
I would have felt fraudulent, attention-seeking and as if I were exploiting the situation.
I regret that now. I wish I had had the broad shoulders to carry my pain forth and explain that attached to the striker’s foot was a long list of moments in time and incidents when the mental persecution and torment he meted out daily, had damaged me more than his kicks.
I wish I had drawn attention to the fact that abuse comes in so many forms and not just the physical punishment. But the psychological and emotional destruction can often be so much worse.
WHERE CAN I GET HELP?
You don’t have to suffer in silence.
If you are experiencing domestic violence or someone you know is there are groups that can help.
Refuge runs a free, 24-hour helpline on 0808 2000 247.
You can also visit the website or contact Women’s Aid.
My nul Euro points
TONIGHT sees the 65th Eurovision Song Contest.
As a Swede, this musical battle never fails to bring back poignant memories – not least because as a child it was about as exciting as life got, and to have
Ulrika once co-presented Eurovision alongside the late Terry Wogan[/caption]
Abba win in 1974 when I was just six was a dream come true.
Imagine then to be asked, as an obsessive fan, 24 years later to co-present the spectacle (it remains the highlight of my career).
The star of the show, of course, was always Tel – the late, beloved Terry Wogan. To have the honour of standing on the same stage as that great man was nothing short of a mind-blowing, pinch-me moment.
I convinced the BBC to give me the job on account of my stunning linguistic skills (of which I really used very few – apart from counting to 12). I quit alcohol in the run-up because I was so keen to have an alert brain ahead of a live transmission to around 200million viewers.
Terry, on the other hand, insisted on prolonged lunches and turned up for the rehearsal the night before but that was it. And it was OK, because he was the Don. He knew exactly what he was doing.
Which is more than can be said for me. When calling in the votes from the sixtysomething Dutch spokesperson, she said her heart went out to the acts because she knew how they all felt as she’d once taken part herself. She followed this with: “. . . a long time ago”.
This was not heard by the audience. What was heard was me responding: “Ahh, a long time ago, was it?”, which sounded like a dig at her aged looks.
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The audience gasped and booed. But all was forgiven. For the record, I did work again . . .
This was not heard by the audience. What was heard was me responding: “Ahh, a long time ago, was it?”, which sounded like a dig at her aged looks.
The audience gasped, hissed and booed. But all was forgiven. Worth watching the clip back though. Made me squirm.
For the record, I did work again . . .
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