My Journey Through Domestic Abuse as an Irish Traveller Woman

By Mary McDonagh 

Hello, my name is Mary McDonagh, and I’m 40 years old. I come from the Irish Traveller community I have 6 children, and today, I’m sharing my story in the hope that it will help domestic abuse agencies and support groups understand a little more about the unique pressures and expectations women like me face from a young age. 

The Role of a Traveller Woman 

Growing up as an Irish Traveller girl, our roles were very clearly defined. From a young age, we were taught that our place in life was to cook, clean, and take care of the children—whether they were our siblings or someone else’s. It was all seen as training for the future, preparing us for the day we would marry and take on these same responsibilities for our own families. There was no choice. It was simply the way things were. 

But for me, it wasn’t easy. My relationship with my mother was strained—if I’m being honest, we hated each other. My father ignored the situation completely, turning a blind eye to what was happening in our home. As Travellers, we moved often, and when I was 14, my life changed forever. 

Falling into the Trap 

We moved into a field with a family that would become my in-laws. I was just 15 when I got engaged to a man much older than me—he was 24. At first, he seemed kind. He told me that if I married him, no one would ever hurt me again, that my mother wouldn’t hit me, and that he would protect me. As a young girl with nowhere else to turn, I fell for his promises. 

Soon, though, the control started. He wouldn’t let me visit my friends, claiming their single brothers made it dangerous for me. He wouldn’t let me wear low-cut tops or bright clothes, saying he was only protecting me from other people’s judgment. I believed him. I thought once we were married, things would be different, that I’d have freedom in my life. But I was wrong. 

The Reality of Control and Abuse 

By the time I realized what was happening, it was too late. I didn’t love him. I didn’t want to marry him. But I had run away with him briefly, and because of that, I was shamed. My family’s pride was on the line, and I felt I had no choice but to marry him and restore their reputation. 

After the wedding, the control became unbearable. He knew where I was at all times, monitored who I spoke to, and determined how I dressed. He cheated openly and rubbed it in my face, and if I dared to react, he would hurt me. I endured two miscarriages at the age of 16, and he blamed me for them, calling me a murderer. The physical abuse was bad, but the mental torture was worse. 

For 20 years, from age 15 to 35, I lived in fear. The isolation was suffocating. I had no close family, no friends, and no way to reach out for help. As Irish Traveller women, we weren’t allowed to mix with the outside world, and I was made to believe that if I ever spoke to someone, I’d be in trouble. The police weren’t an option, and I was constantly reminded that in our community, this behavior was considered normal—he wasn’t the first to beat his wife, and he wouldn’t be the last. 

Reaching Out for Support 

After fleeing a 20-year abusive marriage, I was put in contact with a Romani Gypsy Traveller Liaison Officer who, along with a colleague, put me in touch with a local domestic abuse support service. They gathered my details, provided emergency accommodation, and added me to the housing waiting list. 

While this gave me temporary security, my case was quickly closed, and I was left to navigate the aftermath alone. After enduring two decades of physical, emotional, and mental abuse, I was in no state of mind to handle everything on my own. No mental health support was offered, and once again, I felt lost and isolated. 

However, as time passed, I found the support I needed myself by contacting a Women’s Therapy Centre. They provided a counsellor for me as I so desperately needed to begin healing mentally and emotionally. 

This experience opened my eyes to the gaps in the system, particularly for survivors of prolonged abuse. Though the road was long and often lonely, I have emerged stronger, using my journey to raise awareness about the importance of comprehensive support for survivors—both immediately and in the long term. 

My Hope for Change 

My hope is that by sharing my story, domestic abuse agencies, advocates, and the wider public will begin to understand the specific struggles faced by women in the Irish Traveller community. The cultural isolation, the fear of bringing shame to one’s family, and the normalization of violence all create barriers that make it even harder for women to seek help. These aren’t just personal issues—they are deeply ingrained cultural challenges that require a different kind of approach. 

Education and Awareness 

One of the biggest changes I hope to see is greater education and awareness, both within and outside the Traveller community. Many people in the outside world don’t understand the intense pressure and control that Traveller women face, or the limited opportunities we have to seek help. By raising awareness, agencies and support workers can offer more culturally sensitive approaches that don’t alienate or further isolate women. 

For example, in many cases, Traveller women don’t reach out because they fear the consequences of speaking to someone outside their community. They are often told that the police or doctors will not understand their cultural background and will judge them or their families. Abuse is seen as private, and there’s a deep shame attached to “airing dirty laundry.” By educating those who provide support services, we can break down some of these barriers, creating safe spaces where women feel understood, rather than judged. 

Tailored Support Services 

I would love to see more specialized services designed to support women from the Irish Traveller community—services that take into account our unique cultural challenges. Too often, the one-size-fits-all approach doesn’t work. Traveller women need access to support that considers the intense family dynamics, the pressure of maintaining a “good reputation,” and the fear of retribution if they speak out. This means offering culturally specific counseling, legal advice, and safe housing that address the particular needs of Traveller women. 

Support Within the Community 

Another area where I believe change is needed is within the Traveller community itself. There is a cultural silence around domestic abuse, and many women suffer because they believe that what’s happening to them is normal or that they have no other options. We need to break this cycle of silence. More needs to be done within the community to challenge the normalization of abuse, and to create an environment where women feel empowered to speak up without fear of shame or exclusion. 

Community leaders, advocates, and elders have the power to be voices for change. By encouraging open discussions about abuse, and showing that there is no shame in seeking help, they can help to shift the mindset. This could also involve engaging with men and boys from a young age, teaching them about healthy relationships, respect, and the importance of consent. 

Legal Protections and Accountability 

In addition to community change, I believe that legal protections for women experiencing domestic abuse must be strengthened. Many women, like me, have felt too afraid to go to the police, believing that no one will listen or that it will only make things worse. Police and legal systems must be better equipped to handle domestic abuse cases involving culturally sensitive situations. 

Law enforcement should be trained to recognize the complexities of abuse within isolated communities like the Traveller community and to understand the many reasons women feel trapped. They must work alongside specialized social workers and advocates to provide the safety women need to step away from their abusers without fear of further repercussions. 

Empowerment and Financial Independence 

Lastly, I believe that empowering women to become financially independent is one of the key ways to help break the cycle of abuse. For many years, I was financially controlled, unable to make decisions or provide for myself without my husband’s permission. I had no control over my own life, and that made it even harder to leave. 

By providing women with access to education, skills training, and job opportunities, we can give them the tools they need to stand on their own two feet. When women have their own financial resources, they are less dependent on their abusers and more likely to leave toxic relationships. I want to see more programs dedicated to helping women develop these skills, so they can regain control of their lives.