An observant eye, a kind word or a chat over the fence. They can be the difference between despair and hope for people in abusive relationships.
And that's all the more important now, as support services brace for the sadly traditional rise in family violence over the holidays.
Do you know what to do if you have concerns that someone you know, or meet, is facing violence?
"Watch, listen, be there for someone … there are so many things we can do," domestic violence survivor Kylie says.
She should know.
'Her belief in me saved my life'
Kylie and Emily met as first-time mums.
"I remember glancing at her and thinking, gosh, she's much younger than me, I'm not sure that we have a lot in common," Kylie says.
All names of domestic violence survivors, and Emily, have been changed in this story for legal reasons.
Eighteen years later, not only are they still great mates, but Kylie credits Emily for giving her the space and the confidence to escape an abusive relationship.
"I longed to be a mum, and so I married in haste — a man I thought I loved that we could build a workable life together," she says.
"It turned out to be a nightmare, not the fairytale I was thinking."
Two weeks after marrying him, Kylie says, the abuse started.
"I discovered that he was a secret gambler, that he was a narcissist, that he was cruel and detached," she says.
"And that there was a golden rule in our relationship — that he held the gold and I had to follow the rules."
It would result in years of physical, financial, emotional and social abuse.
At this point, without knowing it, Kylie had begun to develop a rare debilitating condition.
"I think he knew that whatever illness, undiagnosed as it was at the time, meant that I was more dependent on him," she says.
"He certainly kept calling me a passenger and saw no value in what I was bringing to the relationship.
"And when our child was born with special needs, [the abuse] increased ... his retaliation was very fierce."
Emily says she reached out to help Kylie as a fellow first-time mum, years before she realised how crucial that help was.
"I think that you sort of can sense when people are struggling a little bit, when they start becoming absent from things that they are normally attending … you begin to wonder what's going on," she says.
"You reach out to them and try and help in any way you can, without them even telling you what's going on."
The way Kylie tells it, far more important than talking about her situation, were Emily's countless caring gestures.
"She developed a way of caring for me that was beyond words," she says.
"So, the doorbell would ring during a particularly tough week. And at night, I'd go to the doorstep, there'd be a beautiful meal that she'd made for me that said more than flowers or words could.
"[That] said, I believe you, and I care about you, and you're important — and so is your child — and I'm here."
Years later, she is free of her abuse, and is a passionate advocate for survivors, imbued with an energy that belies her condition.
Kylie credits her friend for her new life.
"Her belief in me saved my life, because I had been so brainwashed to believe that I deserved what was going on," she says.
"He would often say, 'no one will believe you'. I really didn't trust anyone with my story, but I trusted [Emily], and she never jumped in and said 'Oh, oh, you know, my partner's doing X'. She was always just there listening, supporting, encouraging. I'm so grateful."
Reflecting on her friend's description, Emily says she's "quite astounded" by the impact her actions had.
"But I'm grateful that she is in my life and that I was able to help her in that time in some small way, even though I didn't know I was doing that," she says.
Emily says some friends can give a push at the right time, and others can listen without judgement.
"It's just listening with your heart to what people are going through and trying to do the little you can, no matter how small ... like that meal or ringing up to just see how they are for their day," she says.
"It could be all the difference for them, but you don't know that at the time.
"It's reaching out and being open."
Holidays associated with rise in violence
Kylie knows all too well what this time of year means for victims of violence.
"Christmas and new year are the killing season in Australia," she says.
"This is when more women and children will be harmed through family violence, and some may die. And we can prevent this."
Tania Farha, CEO of Safe and Equal — the peak body for family violence organisations — braces for danger over the holidays, like every other support worker for women and families facing violence.
"Violence is always a choice. I think it's really important to say that," she says.
"But we know things like alcohol can impact the severity and frequency of violence. So that's one thing that we know about risk, and why risk gets elevated at this time of year."
The official data is mostly state-based, but it's the same story everywhere.
In Victoria, police figures show December 2021 had the highest rates of family violence of any month in more than five years.
Queensland saw 112 per cent more family violence assault incidents on New Year's Day than any other day in the year, according to figures from 2019/20.
And this is all on top of steadily rising rates since the pandemic began — across the year, across the country.
So what can people do if they fear someone they know, or meet, is in this situation?
"All we're asking people to do is to start the conversation and to ask people if they're okay," Ms Farha says.
For some, even small 'neighbourly interactions' are crucial
A few years ago, Kat was growing increasingly isolated in an abusive relationship.
"I started moving around the shadows … on the outskirts of society," she says.
She was using drugs to try to deal with her abuse, and says that when she reached out for support and police became involved, "I was discredited and not taken seriously because of my drug use and dependence."
"Police continued to target me, and I never received the support I needed for the family violence I was experiencing — I was placed in prison to 'dry out'."
Kat now says it was small, casual interactions with neighbours that proved crucial to leaving an abusive partner.
"It was just like those really neighbourly interactions," she says.
"They started very small, and I think over time you build on relationships naturally.
"They would invite the kids around, we would have chats over the fence.
"It wasn't so much that they helped me leave my family violence situation, but they gave me a sense of comfort and confidence that I was then able to move further to seek help."
Kat is now advocating for changes to the system to better support criminalised survivors.
She says it's important a person asks a victim-survivor what they need from them, rather than making that decision themselves.
And in her case, the fact the neighbours did not call the police was vital.
"I assume that they would have heard lots of scenarios where there was violence taking place and they never called the police, which I found beneficial," she says.
"For people in my community, because I am a criminalised woman, it's just not safe … in my experience when police did become involved, it actually escalated the situation, and created further harm and violence for me."
Ms Farha says she can understand Kat's position.
"We know that some people, particularly criminalised women, Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander women and women from refugee and migrant communities are at risk of misidentification by police and broader discrimination within the justice system," she says.
"However, it is important that if someone is in immediate danger, people should call 000."
Ms Farha says that if people want to start a conversation with someone they're concerned about, it should happen alone, away from the suspected abuser.
"It's really important for people to know that disclosing violence is never easy," she says.
"So approach all conversations with kindness and compassion. Don't ask questions like, 'why don't you just leave?' … explain to them violence is never their fault. Let them know that you believe them.'
"You also don't have to be an expert to help somebody, and you don't have to manage it on your own. You can help them access professional support and assistance, or you can call on their behalf."
"Most importantly, believe people and let them know that you're there for them for as long as they need."
Kat believes fear and judgement prevent people from reaching out to others, and says she makes a point of picking up hitchhikers and talking to people on the streets to create "really human approaches, and just allowing space and connection".
"Just knowing that you've got that support there, is what meant the world to me," she says.
