As a young woman, in my late teens and early 20s, I struggled to make sense of the things that happened in my home when I was a child.
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I had a habit of collecting newspaper articles, sometimes the headlines were big and splashy, screaming out things like "why did she stay?"
Mostly they were small, one-paragraph footnotes, like "murder-suicide in apartment" or "woman dead in home".
I cut these articles out and kept them, I guess because I felt I knew intimately who these women were.
I could easily picture what may have been the reality of their everyday lives – the broken ribs, the dislocated jaws, the burst eardrums; the constant walking on eggshells around a man who in one moment professed a love beyond death and in the next slammed their head against a wall.
I kept those articles because they angered and disgusted me; with their gross misconceptions about violence against women; their readiness to blame the victim and pass judgment on her; and their extraordinary eagerness to offer up excuses for violent abusers and murderers.
Almost every article I read, over so many years, denigrated my mother's courage and strength, and perpetuated a culture that excuses, trivialises and downplays violence against women and their children.
And in truth, I also kept those articles, because I was looking for answers, reasons, to help me make sense of my experience.
I guess I was hoping to find some sort of confirmation, somewhere, that the violence at home was not something my mum, my sisters or I were responsible for.
That it wasn't our fault. It wasn't my mum's fault. He was to blame.
I recently came across an article in a "reputable" publication.
The headline screamed off the page: "Mother's secret life as a prostitute revealed after she was found murdered in a rented flat 600 miles from her home."
The headline completely removes the male perpetrator from the equation. Instead, we're made to focus on her job as a sex worker, as if that should somehow stop us from feeling compassion for her, or sorrow for her grieving family, her children.
To place shame on a murdered woman is reprehensible and unjust, and it has a far-reaching influence.
Tasma Walton is an actress, and Our Watch ambassador.