'I realised he could kill me

After James Barr’s ex became abusive, the comedian ended up living in fear of his partner. He believes we need to talk more about domestic violence in the queer community

- James Barr

I first met Scott* in a nightclub. I had been in an on-off relationship with another guy who wasn’t really committing. I broke up with him and then, within a month, bumped into Scott. I felt like he was able to be vulnerable with me in a way that my ex hadn’t; we had lovely, deep chats. And he was hot, so yeah, that helped! We spent a lot of time together.

We looked after each other; he bought me thoughtful gifts. We spent our first Christmas together and it was like: “Oh, so this is what love is!” Love is this thing that gay people often really aspire towards. To finally have that opportunity to do what straight people do and have a monogamous relationship where we were a team was amazing. I felt really lucky.

I believed at the beginning that I had found someone who was a soulmate; someone sweet and kind; someone I was going to marry. I genuinely didn’t notice any red flags. And that’s because – and this is an important part of abuse – people can be completely normal until they’re close to you.

It started off small. We’d play Mario Kart a lot, but he didn’t like losing. If I beat him, then he would literally beat me. Or if he lost a card game, he would punch me and it would hurt. I didn’t find it funny and I’d call it out. He’d say, “It’s just a joke, it’s nothing.” At this stage it wasn’t excessive enough for me to recognise it as real violence, but looking back now I can see that it was, and that it was a precursor to a more serious threat.

Then it escalated into other things. He would get angry if he had burnt something when we were cooking, or if I accidentally dropped a potato in the sink – small things like that would become a trigger for a violent reaction. He would push me or punch me. There was an occasion where he put his hands around my throat. I’m honestly not sure why.