When Abuse Happens to Men: What Alex Skeel’s Story Teaches Us About Coercive Control
Alex Skeel’s case shows how coercive control can trap men in abusive relationships. Learn the warning signs, trauma impacts, and why male victims often stay silent.
Some young men tell me they could never be abused because they’re men. But abuse is not about gender strength or weakness; it is about power, fear, and control.
For many men, abuse does not begin with visible injuries. It begins with anxiety, self-monitoring, isolation, and the quiet decision to keep the peace at any cost. It can look like changing behaviour, avoiding certain conversations, or becoming smaller and quieter to prevent conflict.
Alex Skeel’s story is an example of what coercive control can become when it is unchecked. But his case also helps us understand something broader and more common: abuse can make a person shrink their world, edit their behaviour, and live in a state of constant caution.
Coercive control matters
Coercive control is more than conflict or jealousy. It is a pattern of intimidation, restriction, humiliation, threats, and pressure that gradually erodes a person’s freedom and sense of self.
Some people imagine domestic abuse only as hitting or shouting. In reality, abuse may look like monitoring messages, restricting contact with friends, punishing independence, or creating a climate where the victim learns to stay small to avoid conflict.
That is why coercive control is so important to name. It helps us understand that abuse is not defined only by bruises. It is also defined by the loss of autonomy, confidence, and safety. Victims are often not easily able to communicate with their supports, such as friends and family.
What Alex Skeel’s case shows
Alex Skeel’s abuse was severe and publicly shocking, but the value of the story is not the horror alone. It is the way it illustrates how coercive control can intensify over time, making escape feel harder and harder.
A person can become physically weakened, emotionally trapped, and socially cut off long before anyone outside the relationship understands the danger. That is one reason abuse is so often missed: it can unfold gradually, behind closed doors, and under the disguise of a relationship that looks normal from the outside. Eventually it seems normal to the victim who often feels sorry for the abuser, somewhat like Stockholm Syndrome. It may actually be a case of traumatic cognitive dissonance. It’s important for everyone to know that it is not our responsibility to ‘save’ psychologically disordered personalities no matter how sad and tragic their stories are. At the end of the day, cruelty is a choice and there is no excuse for abuse.
This case also helps challenge the stereotype that men are too powerful, too tough, or too ashamed to be victims. Men can be abused. Men can be controlled. Men can be frightened into silence.
How men may experience abuse
Many male victims describe living on edge, watching every word, and avoiding friends or family to prevent conflict. That can look like loyalty from the outside, but inside it often feels like fear.
Abuse may show up as:
Walking on eggshells.
Constant apologising.
Withdrawing from friends, family, or social life.
Feeling anxious before going home.
Changing routines to avoid criticism or conflict.
Defending a partner’s behaviour even when it feels harmful.
These patterns can be easy to dismiss if you are looking for only the most obvious signs of violence. But coercive control often works by making the victim doubt their own perception. It can be subtle and nuanced, which can often be hard to pinpoint.
Trauma responses are not weakness
From a trauma perspective, it is important to understand that victims often adapt in ways that help them survive at the time. They may appease, minimise, rationalise, withdraw, or become hypervigilant.
These responses are not weakness. They are coping strategies under pressure.
A man may stay because he is isolated, ashamed, emotionally attached, worried about children, concerned about retaliation, or afraid that no one will believe him. He may think he needs to help fix the perpetrator. It’s not the responsibility of victim-survivors to fix disordered personalities. The question is not “Why didn’t he leave?” The better question is, “What made it feel unsafe or impossible to leave?”
Why men stay silent
Men often face a double barrier: they must first name the abuse, and then they must overcome the fear of not being believed.
Social expectations can make it harder for men to disclose victimisation. Some men worry they will look weak, foolish, or less masculine. Others fear that family, friends, or professionals will minimise what is happening or frame it as a mutual conflict rather than abuse.
That silence does not mean the abuse is less serious. It often means the victim is carrying both harm and shame at the same time.
What support should sound like
If you care about a man who may be experiencing coercive control, the most helpful response is calm, private, and non-judgmental.
You might say:
“I’m glad you told me.”
“What’s happening sounds painful.”
“You do not deserve to be treated this way.”
“We can think about what feels safe next.”
Avoid pushing him to leave before he is ready. Avoid language that blames him for staying. And avoid comparing his situation to someone else’s as though it should be easier because he is a man.
The most healing message is not “Why didn’t you leave?” It is: What is happening to you is real, and you deserve support.
Closing message
Abuse is never about deserving it, and it is never about whether someone looks strong enough to withstand it. Coercive control can strip away freedom in any relationship, and recognising it early can save a life.
Alex Skeel’s story is a reminder to look out for the underlying pattern that many victims recognise: life becoming smaller, quieter, and more controlled until the person barely recognises themselves anymore.