
Trigger Warning: This article is of a sensitive nature and mentions abusive relationships and domestic violence. If you need help or access to services, please see here: Muslim Mental Health: The Services and Organisations You Can Contact
*Names have been changed to protect privacy.
Coercive control is a form of domestic abuse that involves controlling, isolating, and intimidating a partner or family member to maintain power over them. This can include isolating them from family and friends, depriving victims of basic needs such as food, and monitoring their behaviour. Some charities, such as Amina Scotland, reported that victims even had their access to contraception controlled and had to ask permission to wash and brush their teeth.
It also happens to be one of the most hidden and misunderstood aspects of domestic abuse – and this is often exacerbated by societal norms within patriarchal cultures that push victims into silence and acceptance.
The charity Women’s Aid has described coercive control as being bound by “invisible chains,” which feels like an apt description both of the campaign of controlling and belittling that victims face, but also the way they are forced to become dependent on the perpetrator, who chips away at their self-esteem and independence over time. Victims can feel bound to their abusers’ whims and are often gaslit into thinking that they somehow deserved the abuse.
Of course, behaviour like this has been inflicted upon women since time immemorial, but it is not just us as a society that has been slow to tackle this widespread issue; the law is far behind as well. Despite it being only 10 years since the UK criminalised this form of abuse under the Serious Crime Act 2015, with a maximum sentence of five years, it was surprisingly one of the first countries in the world to do so.
Still, though, many victims don’t feel the legal system is a safe space for them. Figures from the Met Police revealed that between 2021 and 2025, 59 percent of domestic violence cases were withdrawn before they reached the courts.
While coercive control occurs in all communities, in some patriarchal cultures, there is a cultural gaslighting that takes place where coercive control is not seen as abuse, but rather normalised and enabled by community expectations. In fact, tolerating it is seen as a badge of honour and a sign of being an obedient and pious wife. There is also sometimes the attitude that if the abuse is not physical or sexual, it is not real abuse – reinforcing the silence and secrecy under which many victims are forced to suffer.
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This is something that resonated with Fatima,* 35, who met her husband on a Muslim matrimonial site. “When we were first getting to know each other, everything was amazing – he was charming, bringing me flowers. Soon, I was head over heels,” she reports.
“Then the controlling started. It began with little things that I didn’t really notice at the time, but now realise were red flags. He didn’t like me seeing certain friends because they were ‘too outgoing.’ Then he started saying that, as a wife, I need to dress more modestly and would regularly make comments about my weight. He made me delete my Instagram, which I used for my make-up artist job, because he said, ‘Only sluts do it.’
After the couple got engaged, the controlling behaviour escalated.
“He’d video call at 7:30 pm every evening, and I had to be waiting at home. I wasn’t allowed to be out at that time. If I missed his call because I was in the loo or having dinner, he would go ballistic. I couldn’t even pray. Sometimes he would call earlier or later on purpose to catch me off guard, so I was really nervous.
“He changed plans for our married life, like saying we’d have to live with his parents or the engagement was over. By then, the wedding hall was booked. I’d lost my confidence, and the idea of being single and starting from square one again scared me.”
After they got married, the controlling behaviour escalated, and the relationship turned violent.
“His first words after we got married were, ‘Now I own you.’ I wasn’t allowed to work, see my friends or leave the house. I’d cook and clean all day and have the leftovers for dinner after his family had eaten. He wanted me to get pregnant straight away so that I couldn’t leave him.”
When Fatima was pregnant with their second child, she was beaten so badly that she had a miscarriage. Her doctor put her in touch with a local domestic violence support organisation. She is now in the process of getting divorced.
“I didn’t realise that the controlling stuff was abuse, I thought he was just being possessive and moody. If I had understood the warning signs early on, I would never have got married.”
Fatima’s story is a harrowing example of not only how coercive control can lead to more extreme, physical forms of abuse, but also how controlling and repressive behaviour in itself is abusive.
Muslim women’s charity, the Sakeenah Foundation, said approximately 95% of victims who contacted them about domestic abuse also experienced some form of coercive or controlling behaviour.
“Our internal data shows that coercive control is present in almost all the cases we handle. Approximately 95% of victims who contact us report experiencing some form of coercive or controlling behaviour, even if they initially reach out for support regarding another issue,” explained Sakeenah Foundation, which supports survivors of domestic abuse.
“In many situations, coercive control has been occurring long before physical violence or other forms of abuse become visible. This aligns with national research, which shows that coercive control often forms the foundation of an abusive relationship, gradually limiting the victim’s independence, confidence and safety. These figures highlight how widespread and damaging coercive control is.
Many victims come to us feeling unsure about whether what they have experienced is abuse, especially when it’s been normalised within their family or community. Victims are often dealing with layered forms of abuse, such as coercive control combined with spiritual manipulation or honour-based threats.
Coercive abuse is not specific to one community. However, in some families, certain behaviours may be misunderstood as cultural expectations rather than abuse. Traditional gender roles, patriarchal norms and ideas surrounding family honour can sometimes create an environment in which controlling behaviours are minimised or even justified.
These attitudes have often developed over generations, where discussing abuse outside the home was typically discouraged, and victims were expected to “keep family matters private.”
Coercive control doesn’t just occur between spouses; it can also happen amongst siblings and between parents and children. In cultures where there is a tradition of living with extended families and in-laws, there can be multiple perpetrators.
In many families, especially in multi-generational households, there can be complex dynamics involving power, expectations and traditional responsibilities. These dynamics sometimes create opportunities for coercive behaviour to develop.
There may even be multiple perpetrators acting together, which can make the abuse more difficult to recognise and escape.”
According to the domestic violence charity, Safer Lives, some of the signs of coercive and controlling behaviour include:
Saira,* 28, explained her experience of coercive control at the hands of her mother-in-law.
“I was 18 when I had an arranged marriage, and my mother-in-law dominated the whole family. She wanted my husband to marry her niece in Pakistan, and she resented that he didn’t, but she also resented having another woman in her house. I could do nothing right. Anything could trigger her anger, even not putting away the plates the way she wanted, so I felt like I was always walking on eggshells around her.
The worst thing was when she stopped me from seeing my family and friends. My mum had died, and I used to look after my younger siblings. I worried about them a lot, and she wouldn’t let me see them. I would have to psyche myself up for several days to build the courage to ask to go home, and I would literally be shaking in fear, not knowing whether she would say yes or get angry. I didn’t have enough money for a chocolate bar and wouldn’t leave the house for weeks.
When guests came over, she would criticise my clothes and the food I made and then complain how incompetent I was. I would feel so small and humiliated.
They registered me with their GP, who was a Pakistani lady. When I tried to discuss the abuse, the first thing she told me was how wonderful they are and how she was a good friend of my mother-in-law, which meant I couldn’t get medical advice because I knew it would get back to her. When I spoke to an aunt, she said this was normal, and it was because I hadn’t tried hard enough to win them over. It’s only now that I realised it was abuse.”
The insidious nature of coercive control means that often the foundations of abuse are set before the abuse escalates, and the victims are already caged by their abusers. As a society, we need to recognise that coercive control isn’t just words or actions, but real abuse and needs to be dealt with in the same way as other forms of abuse.
As Fatima*, whose experience of coercive control from her husband soon turned into physical assault, puts it, “We need to stop telling women to have sabr before it’s too late. Violence leaves bruises, but we need to see the bruises that words and actions leave first.”
If you are facing domestic abuse, you can contact Sakeenah Foundation for support or explore our list of 11 Services to Turn to if You Are Experiencing Abusive Behaviour in Your Home.
If you’re struggling with your mental health and need someone to speak to, you can also find support through Muslim Mental Health: The Services and Organisations You Can Contact.
If you fear that you are in danger, we would advise you to call the police on 999.
Alia Waheed is a journalist specializing in writing about issues affecting Muslim women in the UK and internationally. Her work has been featured in The Guardian, The Observer, Glamour, Cosmopolitan and Grazia among others and she was shortlisted for a British Journalism Award and The Write to End Violence Against Women and Girls award for Best Feature. Issues she has covered in the past include the dangers faced by women using Muslim matrimonial sites and the murder of primary school teacher, Sabina Nessa.