“Sometimes, unless you’ve lived through something, you don’t quite understand.”

I thought I’d gone about this backwards. I read Hope first, which focuses on the time since Rosie Batty was named Australian of the Year in 2015. This book, first published in September 2015, explores Rosie’s childhood, the violence Greg Anderson chose to perpetrate against her and her son, and Rosie’s relationship with her son, Luke.

It would make more sense chronologically to read this book before Hope but for me, accidentally reading them in the wrong order was a blessing of sorts. When I read Hope, I knew the basics of Rosie’s story. I don’t know if you can be Australian and not know who Rosie is. I didn’t know what I didn’t know, though. If I’d read this book first, I don’t think I could have read them back to back.

This is one of the most infuriating books I’ve ever read. Don’t get me wrong; it’s not because it’s not well written. Seeing the series of events that led up to Luke Batty’s murder and the opportunities that were missed by the police and the child protection and court systems laid out one after another, and knowing where it was leading had me seeing red. This book includes so many red flags, I started wondering if that’s what it should have been called.

“And so began a cycle of threats and fear that would continue until the day Greg died.”

Rosie did everything she could to protect her son. She called the police and provided information to them about Greg’s whereabouts when there were warrants out for his arrest. She cooperated with child protection. She attended court date after court date. To say that Rosie and Luke Batty were failed by the system is an understatement.

“If I downplayed the violence and threats, no one took them seriously. But if I became hysterical, I was written off as a melodramatic - or mad - woman. Decades of exposure to family violence had muted the official response to it, and I was suffering for that.”

If I was Rosie, I’m sure I’d be a big ball of rage. Rosie, though, went into action mode. From the first time she spoke to the media to now, Rosie has been advocating for change.

“My template in life when confronted with tragedy had been to push down the sadness, draw on my reserves of country English stoicism and do what must be done.”

Rosie’s insights should make this a must read for anyone working in a helping profession. Readers who have experienced domestic or family violence will identify with Greg’s behaviours and the agonising position Rosie was in.

“It’s an important marker in the life of anyone who has suffered family violence to have someone explain the different types of violence that exist, for the terror you’ve suffered to be given a name, and to be assured, most importantly, that none of it is your fault.”

This book is heartbreaking. It’s also a testament to a mother’s love for her child and her concerted effort to protect him.

Content warnings are included on my blog.