Awareness of domestic violence has not been overtaken by #MeToo. Here's why.

When Kaylee Kapatos posted on Facebook this month that she was a survivor of domestic violence, using the #WhyIStayed hashtag, her friends' response was choked.

Only the previous week, she had posted on the subject of sexual assault with the hashtag #WhyIDntReport and had received what she had called an "extremely positive reaction".

"It's totally different," said Ms. Kapatos, 25, life co-ordinator at Michigan Technological University. "People just do not want to talk about it."

Over the past year, the #MeToo movement has transformed culture, in many ways outpacing sexual assault and harassment to become a transcendent force for women's empowerment. Discussions have been held on what women have trouble going out about, how they should calculate the risk of mundane tasks such as sell an article online or run, and why it's important to believe women when they tell their story.

But how does domestic violence, one of the most common causes of women's suffering in the hands of men, fit into this conversation?

October is Domestic Violence Awareness Month. We interviewed experts and survivors about why the conversation about domestic violence differs from sexual assault and what needs to be changed to make domestic violence count for its own cultural calculation.

Victims of domestic violence often have serious security problems that prevent them from sharing publicly.

In 2018, the national hotline against domestic violence and its youth awareness effort, loveisrespect, recorded a 30% increase in calls, text messages and discussions compared to the same period of time. 39, last year – a larger increase than usual.

"We believe that #MeToo is one of them," said Katie Ray-Jones, executive director of the Domestic Assistance Line Against Domestic Violence.

She thinks that victims of domestic violence identify with the national conversation, but that they feel safer talking confidentially than sharing publicly on Facebook or Twitter.

Contrary to what is usually written about sexual harassment or disclosure of a past sexual assault without naming the author, simply identifying online as a victim of domestic violence could expose a ex as an aggressor.

"People have the feeling that they might be related to the identity of their abusive partner," Ms. Ray-Jones said. "But also, think of a time when someone has protested against domestic violence and where his character has not been murdered one way or the other. "

When survivors speak, they face "widespread stigma".

After the #MeToo movement became viral, the National Coalition Against Domestic Violence created its own hashtag, #SurvivorSpeaks.

"It was really a thoughtful look at what we heard, namely:" We are very grateful that we are talking about sexual assault and #MeToo, but what about us? ", A said Ruth M. Glenn, chief executive of the coalition. and president.

Ms. Glenn stated that she had found regular use of the new hashtag, but that it had not changed, contrary to what #MeToo did. "Survivors know when and if they will get help," she said. "Right now, there is still a bit of stigma in heavy jobs."

She said that there was an additional layer of blame for the victim in domestic violence relationships because the abuse lasted for months and years in what people consider a consenting adult relationship.

"People really have a hard time understanding, why is not she going?" Said Ms. Glenn.

Ms. Kapatos, who broke up with a boyfriend from the university who said she was jealous, controlling and threatening to kill herself if she left, tried to answer this question with her Facebook message.

"I stayed because I was afraid he was hurting," she wrote. "I stayed because I thought he loved me. I stayed because I thought I could fix it. I stayed because I thought it was normal.

She has just six "likes".

#MeToo has shown the strength of multiple charges, but victims of domestic violence usually speak alone.

The #MeToo movement showed what can happen when women agree to stop being silent. But in most cases, men were not held accountable until several women spoke out.

It's hard to duplicate in cases of domestic violence, where there is a victim in an isolated relationship who is unlikely to know about past abuses, said Ebony Johnson, founder of the Next Chapter, Corporation, a group of basic support that works with victims. of Sexual and Domestic Violence in Maryland and Washington, DC

Ms. Johnson, a 39-year-old veteran who works for the Department of Housing and Urban Development, is a survivor of both. She was raped by a stranger at the age of 15, she said. As an adult, she divorced after her husband strangled her and threatened to kill her. She then received a protection order against a boyfriend who mistreated her.

Ms. Johnson stated that the boyfriend had been sued in a spousal abuse case at a previous marriage, but she only learned that after he became violent at respect. The man has since remarried.

"Imagine if I contacted his wife and said," Oh my God, he abused me; I just want you to be careful, "said Ms. Johnson. "She'll think I'm crazy, unless it happens to her."

Victims have not seen others hold domestic abusers accountable.

There is another missing element in the conversation around domestic violence: public outrage.

Whether we like it or not, experts say, it often takes a well-known case of celebrities to start a cultural movement. For domestic violence, this happened for the first time in the 1990s, when O.J. Simpson was accused of killing his ex-wife, said Paige Flink, general manager of the Family Place shelter in Dallas.

"It's as if it happened to ordinary people, it was not as real as when it happened to a celebrity," she said.

But Mr. Simpson was acquitted at his criminal trial. Singer Chris Brown was largely forgiven after pleading guilty to the 2009 killer assassination of his girlfriend at the time, the pop star Rihanna. This year, Rob Porter, the Secretary of Staff of the White House, resigned after two former women accused him of physical abuse, but President Trump spoke of bringing him back.