They met at 16 and made their home together in the Illawarra when they were still teenagers, after she fell pregnant with the first of the three children they would conceive.

‘‘I thought the world of him,’’ Barbara said.

Without a driver’s licence, she was stuck at home when he went out.

She noticed he was secretive and would guard his mobile phone. 

He became angry and verbally abusive when she told him she needed help with the children, and objected to him taking off for the night.

He called her ‘‘bitch’’, pushed her and spat on her, then would leave while she stayed home and cried.

She became too embarrassed to make eye contact with her neighbours, who surely heard his yelling.

He gave her a weekly allowance to cover the household expenses. It wasn’t enough, and her weight dropped to 58 kilograms from missing out on meals when there was insufficient food to go around.

She realised with ‘‘heartbreaking’’ clarity that the carefree skater boy was growing ever distant.

‘‘That’s the hardest thing, to see a person change that much,’’ Barbara said. 

‘‘But I didn’t want my family to be split up. 

‘‘I felt it would be better to stay and work on things.’’

They got married, but it didn’t help.

He became less interested in working and only wanted to stay home, or visit his friends’ houses.

One day, he beat her so badly she couldn’t close her mouth. 

He used a closed fist to hit her multiple times to her face and head while their children yelled at him to stop.

‘‘I think the kids got hurt more from seeing me like that,’’ Barbara said.

‘‘I’ll never forget it. That’s a lot of guilt that I’ll carry for the rest of my life.’’

In the hospital emergency room, she felt everyone’s eyes on her. It was obvious she had been abused. She was embarrassed. 

The violence hurt, inside and out, but it made her realise she had to leave her relationship.

Barbara was connected to Family Services Illawarra support workers through a police domestic violence liaison officer.

She has been assisted  through the Staying Home, Leaving Violence program, which helps women and children escaping domestic violence to remain safely in their homes.

The service draws on assistance from police and courts to remove the violent family member, and can include help with upgrading home security, court support and advocacy, counselling and referrals to legal and other support services. 

‘‘I feel sad not to be able to give my kids a family with a proper mum and dad,’’ Barbara said.

‘‘But I think what we’ve got now is a million times better than staying in a situation like that.’’

* Barbara’s name has been changed. 

According to Brothers Against Domestic Violence Program co-ordinator Brendon Fitzgerald, the rehabilitation journey of a domestic violence offender starts in tears.

"We have up to five or six blokes in a session bawling, worried they'll never see their kids or get their families back," he said.

"All of them are depressed, some are suicidal, some are coming off drugs and they don't see a light at the end of the tunnel."

Mr Fitzgerald believes the man-to-man mentoring service provides a safe space for violent offenders to be honest and vulnerable - two key components he believed essential for successful rehabilitation and prevention.

"Men are full of bluff and bravado until they get down man-to-man and talk about what's what," he said.

"From what the men have said to me we're the only place that they can talk about their problems away from the pubs, clubs and taverns; these are the only social spaces men have sometimes and they're places linked to violence," he said.

Brothers Against Domestic Violence (BADV), run by the Illawarra Men's Koori Group, is targeted at indigenous offenders or those at risk of offending, with members attending voluntarily or on work development orders.

The BADV program and Mr Fitzgerald's role will cease to exist from December 19 due to a lack of ongoing funding.

The program receives no government funds and depends on the Healing Foundation to continue its programs, which include a school intervention program for boys in years 5-6.

"We haven't got the capacity to keep applying for funds, we don't have dedicated grant writers like other organisations so we miss out," he said.

Over its eight years, the program has too many success stories to count according to Mr Fitzgerald.

"Local police have told us the domestic violence rate in the indigenous community here has halved," he said.

The rate of recorded domestic assault for indigenous women is more than six times higher than for non-indigenous women, according to a 2011 NSW Bureau of Crime Statistics release.

The same report said the overrepresentation of indigenous Australians as both victims and offenders of domestic assault had not changed over the past decade.

Domestic violence and masculinities researcher Dr Michael Flood said these types of programs had merit in terms of changing attitudes about violence against women.

"Mentoring programs for men are one useful strategy for intervention as men will listen more readily to other men and take more notice of other men's values due to sexism and gender inequality," he said.

"But these groups have to prioritise safety to women and children and hold perpetrators to account."

- BRIANNA PARKINS