Domestic Violence Line - 1800 656463
WHEN Newcastle woman Angela Ivancevic looks back at the photos of what her husband did to her face, it isn’t the black eyes or the bruised jaw that traumatise her the most.
It’s the distinctive imprint of his wedding ring that he left on her forehead during the savage attack.
‘‘I can take a punch, after all this I know that, but he just kept punching me and kicking me,’’ Ms Ivancevic said.
‘‘In the photos, you can see the imprint of his wedding ring on my head, that’s the most heartbreaking part, it was a symbol of love and promises he made me and he used it against me.’’
Ms Ivancevic, 31, is sharing her horrific story at the urging of older sister, Jackie Gillies, a professional psychic who is married to former Silverchair drummer Ben Gillies and stars on pay-TV series The Real Housewives of Melbourne.
The Gillies have supported Ms Ivancevic in her recovery from the violence and abuse she suffered at the hands of her now former husband, Peter (Pece) Stojanovski.
‘‘I told Angela she really needed to tell the truth, and that’s what she’s done,’’ Ms Gillies said.
‘‘My sister’s a nurse, so her life has always revolved around helping others. By doing this, she will raise awareness about domestic violence and encourage other victims to come forward.’’
‘‘I think telling her story is what has finally set Angela free,’’ added her musician husband.
Stojanovski was Ms Ivancevic’s first boyfriend when the couple got together in 2009.
Ms Ivancevic believed she had met the man of her dreams so, following an engagement nine months later and a wedding shortly after, she was excited to live happily ever after in Dapto with her ‘‘prince charming’’.
The abuse started with a small kick, a punch, a push – enough to hurt Ms Ivancevic, but not enough to convince her to call the police or split up her young family.
It wasn’t until a few years later, when she was cowering in a cupboard hiding from her husband – bleeding and bruised and believing she wouldn’t survive the night – that she called for help.
Like many violent relationships, Ms Ivancevic’s husband incrementally abused her over the years, working from small cruelties to eventually repeatedly stomping on her head while she begged him to stop.
First, Stojanovski started to dictate what Ms Ivancevic could wear, which escalated into bizarre requests.
‘‘He made me cut up all my tights because he thought they showed off too much,’’ she said.
‘‘Then I wasn’t allowed to hang my underwear out on the line in case anyone saw.
‘‘It was all these funny little things but I loved him so I kept saying to myself ‘this is how things are now’.’’
It escalated into financial control when Stojanovski grew tired of his high-paying job as a mechanical fitter – flying in and out of Western Australia – and forced Ms Ivancevic to return to work five weeks after having their son.
‘‘I was still recovering from giving birth for the first time when he made me go back to work; I was still leaking milk,’’ she said.
‘‘I’m a nurse, so I was on my feet all day; I tried to argue and that’s when it got really bad.’’
On February 16, 2013, the final vicious attack came, which left Ms Ivancevic’s face unrecognisable, her eyes closed over from bruising.
‘‘It was after a wedding,’’ she said.
‘‘He’d fallen asleep on the floor, so I woke him up.
‘‘When he jumped up, it was like something out of the Lion King – it was just pure evilness.
‘‘He just kept hitting me. I ran into the cupboard he pulled me out three times and kept kicking and hitting me.
‘‘I was screaming over and over: ‘I’m the mother of your son!’ but he just said: ‘I don’t give a f---’. I knew if I didn’t get out, I would be dead.’’
As she struggled out onto the road, with Stojanovski hurling beer bottles at her from the balcony of where they were staying at Hawks Nest, Ms Ivancevic remembers being grateful her toddler son wasn’t home.
‘‘My son wasn’t there, thank God, he didn’t have to see his father hurting me,’’ she said.
‘‘I didn’t want him growing up thinking this was normal, it’s part of the reason I got out.’’
The police eventually found Ms Ivancevic, who begged not to be taken to the emergency room, because she was too embarrassed her hospital colleagues would recognise her.
With an AVO in place and her tight-knit Croatian-Serbian family by her side, Ms Ivancevic resolved never to go back to Stojanovski.
‘‘He had locked the door,’’ she said.
‘‘I couldn’t even get clothes for myself or the baby; he took all my money for the mortgage and left me $20 to live on.
‘‘He kept saying ‘let’s go to WA and start over’ but I just couldn’t.’’
Stojanovski was convicted of assaulting Ms Ivancevic in April, 2013 and received a six-month suspended sentence.
With the support of family and friends, Ms Ivancevic rebuilt her life, moving to Newcastle, taking up mixed martial arts and returning to her job as an emergency nurse.
‘‘Because of my job, I see [domestic violence] every day,’’ she said.
‘‘I’ll never forget one young girl who came in after being dragged down 15 stairs by her hair, her face nearly ripped off.
‘‘I just want to say to them ‘you are so much stronger than you think, know what you’re worth’.’’
Ms Ivancevic is determined to share the horrific photos of her injuries to remind the community of the realities of domestic violence.
‘‘I want people to see it really is that bad; when people see those photos, they cry,’’ she said.
‘‘But I always remind them that I’m not a victim, I’m a survivor.’’
Domestic Violence Line - 1800 656463
Originally published as Former Dapto woman's domestic abuse survival story by Illawarra Mercury.
