'My best friend is back with her abusive ex. And I've had to accept it, for her sake.'

When my best friend told me that she and her long term partner were thinking of breaking up I was dumbfounded. They lived together, shared a dog, there had been talk of weddings, she had sent me pictures of engagement rings she liked.

She then told me that the reason that they were thinking about breaking up was because they had been having some really “serious” fights. I assumed that she meant fights about children or moving overseas, but as it turned out, these weren’t those types of arguments.

These were the types of fights where he would punch holes in walls, slam his fists on the table, call her a c–t and a f–k head and scream in her face. She confessed to me that she had previously feared for her safety, that she was tired and that nothing was getting better.

The thing was, even as I expressed surprise, I could actually see him doing those things. I had seen him speak to her in a manner that could politely be described as “completely disrespectful”. He would have tantrums if she corrected him, he would ridicule her in front of people, he would yell at her.

And because she was a professional woman, with a wide friendship group, a loving family, and an air of confidence, we assumed that things couldn’t be that bad. After all, why would an intelligent, economically mobile woman stay in a relationship in which she was demeaned and threatened?

Of course, we all know that family violence doesn’t live within one postcode or socioeconomic group - people of all walks of life can be victims, regardless of race, religion, income, gender, or sexual orientation. It’s just that you don’t ever think it could happen with people that you know, until it does.

Over the next few weeks, things went from bad to worse for my friend. They moved into separate houses. He sent her a barrage of texts and emails telling her that he had always known that he could do better than her, that she was ugly and stupid and that he was glad that they were done. She was a mess, and my perception of her, as a go-getting , proud, sassy woman began to crumble.

Other people approached her with stories of his anger, she heard from friends of friends who had seen him yelling at her in public and had been concerned for her.

And I, and various other friends, had seen these things too. Like the time he had a complete melt down during a game night, and ended up furiously googling answers to questions on his phone long after everyone else had moved on, so that he could prove that he was right. Or the fights that they would have where he would storm off, and then tell people “she’s just being a c--t”.

This provoked discussion within our friendship group about family violence and respectful relationships. We realised that this guy had a problem, and that not one of us had called him out on it.

Male members of our friendship group tried to talk to him, initially daintily side stepping the issues and then, when he gave them nothing, more blatantly suggesting counselling, interventions and the like. He was excluded from activities because some of us could barely look at him.

Then one day she told me that they were back together. He had agreed to see a counsellor to get his anger under control. They slowly rebuilt their life as a couple; and we went from barely being about to look at him, to barely being able to look at both of them.

How could she forgive him for the things that he had said to her and about her, and the emails and text messages full of hateful words? How could she? And how could I and the rest of our friends forgive him for his appalling treatment of her?

In the weeks after they reconciled, I told her that I felt uncomfortable around him. She replied that she had put a lot of thought into her decision and that she was confident that he had changed for the better and would continue to improve.

I didn’t believe her, but I also didn’t want to push the matter. In some respects I am glad that I didn’t push her more at the time, or try and change her mind about reconciling. She might have cut ties with me altogether.

She was passively ostracised by various friends who saw him as her weakness and couldn’t forgive her for forgiving him. I’m ashamed to say that I was one of them. I saw her forgiveness of him as pathetic and weak and after our initial conversation I avoided them both.

However one day, when another friend was having an “I can’t believe she can forgive him” moment, I felt a change. I suddenly realised that we were punishing her for him and for the things that he had done to her. This was profoundly unfair.

For whatever reason, my brilliant friend had forgiven this man. This was her choice. I realised that in the event that she was ever to leave him for good, she was going to need the support of friends and family, and the ability to confide in people without judgement. In the event that it turned out he was a changed man, and that they lived happily ever after, well, that was even better.

It’s hard, but I am making an effort to spend time with them so that if he hasn’t changed, or if she otherwise realises that she wants out, she can tell me without fear of judgement and know that I will be there for her.

Part of that means spending time with him, which is still really hard. His behaviour has definitely changed to some extent, but there are stills occasions when he is rude to her.

These incidents generally take place within competitive settings - when we are watching footy as a group or playing a social game of some type and when he thinks that she has done the “wrong thing” and somehow let him down.

Sometimes he will yell, sometimes it is more that he simply cannot let a point go and has to have the last word with her. These days, I try to call him out on it. I have told him very firmly to “stop it” and to “be quiet”.

This goes completely against my nature. I always prefer to ignore the awkward and pretend things never happened. But I do this so that he knows that there are people there that care for her. And we are watching.

If this post brings up any issues for you, or if you just feel like you need to speak to someone, please call 1800 RESPECT (1800 737 732) – the national sexual assault, domestic and family violence counselling service.