“Why Doesn’t She Just Leave?”

Why That’s the Wrong Question — and What We Should Be Asking Instead

It's the question that follows every domestic violence headline, every court case, every heartbroken conversation between friends: “Why didn’t she just leave?” It is asked with good intentions, and sometimes with judgement. But as a trauma-informed counsellor who has spent years walking alongside women rebuilding their lives after abuse, I can tell you this question misunderstands the problem from the very first word.

New Australian research is finally catching up with what survivors and the professionals who support them have known all along. Anglicare Sydney recently found that the immediate cost of leaving a violent relationship — bond, transport, utilities, temporary accommodation and the basics needed to set up a new household — has risen sharply over the past decade, pricing safety further out of reach for women who are often already financially controlled by their abuser. As the researchers behind that study put it plainly: we have been asking the wrong question. It isn’t “why doesn’t she leave?” It’s “why is it not possible for her to leave?”

“Why doesn’t she leave?” is the wrong question. The real question is “why is it not possible to leave?”

That single reframe changes everything about how we, as a community, should respond. So let's talk honestly about the reasons women stay — not because they are weak, foolish, or in denial, but because leaving an abusive relationship is one of the most complex and dangerous decisions a human being can face.

1. Leaving Is the Most Dangerous Time

Domestic violence researchers call it “separation assault.” Abuse is fundamentally about control, and the moment a woman attempts to leave is the moment that control is most directly threatened. Government death reviews consistently show that separation — actual or intended — is present in a disproportionate number of intimate partner homicides. Women who stay are often making an accurate, split-second risk assessment, not a passive one.

2. Money Is a Weapon

Financial abuse is one of the most under-recognised forms of coercive control. Many women in abusive relationships have no independent bank account, no access to savings, no credit history in their own name, and no way to pay a bond or a removalist. The rising cost of rent, utilities and basic setup only widens that gap. Leaving isn’t just an emotional decision — for many women, it is a logistical impossibility without support.

3. Children Change the Equation

Custody fears, school disruption, and the terrifying reality of co-parenting with an abuser after separation all weigh heavily. Many women stay, at least for a time, believing it is the safer path for their children — and sometimes, given how the system handles post-separation contact, they are not wrong to be afraid.

4. Coercive Control Rewires the Nervous System

Abuse rarely begins with violence. It begins with isolation from friends and family, erosion of confidence, and a slow redrawing of what feels “normal.” Over time, a woman’s nervous system adapts to survive — hypervigilance, self-blame, and a fawn response designed to keep the peace and stay safe. This is not weakness. It is the body doing exactly what trauma trains it to do. Undoing that pattern takes far more than a single decision to walk out the door.

5. Faith, Family and Community Pressure

For many women, especially in faith communities, there is real pressure — spoken or unspoken — to keep the family together, to forgive, to pray it through. I want to be direct here: no faith calls a woman to remain in danger. God’s design for her was never abuse. Part of my work is helping women separate authentic faith from the misuse of faith as a tool to keep them silent and staying.

6. Belief Systems Formed Long Before the Relationship

Many women carry old beliefs — laid down in childhood, in earlier relationships, in cultural conditioning — that tell them they are responsible for keeping others calm, that conflict is their fault, or that they don’t deserve better. An abuser exploits these existing “stones” rather than creating them from nothing. Real healing means identifying and removing those old, false beliefs — not just physically leaving a house.

What This Means for How We Talk About Abuse

If we want to genuinely support women, the shift starts with language. Retire “why doesn’t she just leave?” It centres the wrong person and implies a simplicity that doesn’t exist. Replace it with the questions that actually help:

• What is stopping her from leaving safely — financially, legally, emotionally?

• What support, housing and financial pathways can we build so leaving is genuinely possible?

• How do we hold the person using violence accountable, rather than placing the burden of solving abuse on the person experiencing it?

• What does she need to feel safe enough to take the next step, in her own time?

Restoration, Not Rescue

At The Rebuilt Movement, our approach is trauma-informed and grounded in professional practice, but it is also deeply human. We don’t position women as helpless, and we don’t rush their timeline. Leaving is rarely one decision — it is often many small ones, made as safety, finances and support finally align. Our role, and the role of every service, employer, friend and family member, is to remove the barriers in her way and walk beside her as she rebuilds — not to ask why she hasn’t already gone.

I restore people back to their original condition — before trauma, before abuse, before the world told her who she had to become to stay safe.

Dawn Williams is a registered social worker and counsellor, founder of The Rebuilt Movement, and a #1 Amazon bestselling author working with women rebuilding their lives after domestic abuse and major life transitions.

FOR MEDIA ENQUIRIES

Dawn Williams is available for interview on domestic violence, coercive control, trauma-informed recovery and the barriers women face when leaving abusive relationships. Contact details available on request.

IF THIS RAISES SOMETHING FOR YOU

1800RESPECT: 1800 737 732 (24/7 national domestic, family and sexual violence counselling) — Lifeline: 13 11 14