One day when I was in my twenties, I used my midweek lunch break to meet with an off-duty Garda that I knew socially. I arrived at our lunch with a folder full of sheets of paper. On them were printed a chronological list of times the man I had been in a relationship with had insulted and threatened me. I had call logs of him texting and calling me incessantly, lists of times he had called my parents’ house at four in the morning to scream insults down the phone, and the times he threatened to tell my colleagues…

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