A Domestic Violence Story
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Giovannie Espiritu and child (Photo courtesy of Giovannie Espiritu)
I grew up with a vision of love and relationships shaped by romanticized media and cultural expectations.
Like many young women, I was taught to idealize the concept of a perfect partner and to believe in the importance of purity, submission, and devotion. These ideals are deeply ingrained in many cultures, and they often place a woman’s worth on how well she fits into the mold of a “perfect” wife, defined by her ability to please and serve her partner. This mindset, cloaked in a religious framework, can be damaging, particularly when it erodes a woman’s sense of personal autonomy and self-worth.
When I met him, I believed we shared the same values, especially around faith. I had internalized the belief that, once a woman is committed to someone, she belongs to them, that her desires, her body, and her choices are no longer hers to control. This belief was reinforced by the pressure from the church to "be a good wife" and conform to traditional gender roles. I felt an overwhelming sense of guilt and condemnation if I didn’t.
I don’t know exactly when I reached my breaking point. It was likely when he struck our one-year-old child with a belt under the guise of Biblical discipline. I had tolerated the abuse, the manipulation, and the control for so long, but discovering that everything I thought I knew was a lie, along with seeing the violence extend to my child—that I couldn’t handle.
The drives back and forth from San Francisco to the remote town we lived in were getting more dangerous each time. On those winding mountain roads, he would swerve the car if I said anything he didn’t like, if I disagreed or questioned him. He’d yell about respect, about how I didn’t have any for him. He’d remind me that, according to God, he was the head of the household, and I wasn’t listening to the Spirit. He claimed I was falling into darkness because of my connection to acting and the people I met in class. In his eyes, I was listening to the devil.
Despite all his talk about leadership, he didn’t have a job. I was the one making money, although it wasn’t something I had initially sought out. I had stumbled into voice-over work after a chance encounter with a telemarketer who told me I had an interesting voice. At the time, my “husband” had quit his job, convinced that the Lord was coming soon, while I was home trying to care for our toddler. Not knowing how we were going to make ends meet, I looked up "voice overs" on the internet and sent in a ridiculous recording to a talent agency in San Francisco called Stars. They called me in, signed me on the spot, and sent me to a last-minute audition. I booked a role that same day for a video game called My Street, earning more in two hours than I would make in an entire month. It felt like a sign from God. The agency encouraged me to take acting classes, where a classmate eventually gave me a book titled Free Yourself from an Abusive Relationship. I don't know what incident in particular prompted her to give me that book. There must have been signs. I remembered that it was rather curious that my OB-GYN once gave me a domestic violence pamphlet at one of our check-ups, but I didn't think much of it and threw it away.
I had to hide the book and read it when he wasn't around. It had a checklist of traits of abusive relationships. I checked off every single box, except for choking and physical violence. There hadn’t been direct hitting, so I thought it didn’t count. But then I recalled the time he hurled a log at me after I spilled a dish. I managed to move out of the way just in time, and the log hit the door frame instead, leaving a dent. Even then, I convinced myself that it didn’t count because it hadn’t actually hit me. But the fear I felt every day—the fear of angering him, of making the wrong move—that was real, and it was constant.
The book warned that the most dangerous time in an abusive relationship is when you try to leave. That thought weighed heavily on me, but at that point, I didn’t care about anything else except the safety of my child. I knew that I couldn’t stay any longer. I just wanted us to be safe.
Leaving was terrifying. There were moments when I doubted if I could do it, but I knew I had to try. The control he had over my life, over my body, over my choices— I couldn’t let my child grow up thinking that this was what love or partnership was supposed to look like. He was in the shower when I took my child and left. I called my mom, asking for her help, and we stayed with her while we tried counseling. However, after the second session, he refused to go back, and I continued therapy alone. I eventually gave up on the relationship too.
The emotional scars from years of control and manipulation don’t heal overnight. I still suffer from lack of self-esteem, CPTSD, and all forms of anxiety. When a culture tells women that they are the property of their husbands or partners, it erases the right to bodily autonomy. It creates an environment where consent, choice, and personal agency are ignored in favor of obedience and submission. And the damage this does—psychologically, emotionally, and spiritually—can last for years.
When a culture tells women that they are the property of their husbands or partners, it erases the right to bodily autonomy.
As I share my story during Domestic Violence Awareness Month, I want to emphasize that abuse comes in many forms. It’s not always about physical violence; often, it’s about control—control over your thoughts, your body, your choices. When a person takes away your ability to decide for yourself, when they manipulate your emotions or impose their will on your life, that’s abuse. And it’s never okay.
If you are in a situation where you feel controlled, manipulated, or silenced, please know that you are not alone. There is help available, and there is a way out. Your body, your mind, your choices—they belong to you, and no one has the right to take that from you.
If you need help, click the link below for the National Domestic Violence Hotline.
Giovannie Espiritu is an award-winning director and sought-after acting coach, honored as a Telly Award Winner and named one of Las Vegas Weekly's 2024 Women Inspiring Vegas. A proud recipient of the prestigious "100 Most Influential Filipina Women" award by FWN, she is currently directing the highly anticipated rom-com series Maid to Shine for the FilAmTV Network. Her IRL and reel life mantra: “Break Hearts Wide Open and Create More Moments of Joy.”
