Men subjected to intimate partner violence (IPV) is the subject of increasing attention, although it has been discussed as early as the 1970s (Douglas et al. 2012). Most of the knowledge on this topic stems from survey-based studies that asked men to self-report violent acts (Douglas et al. 2012), and there are comparatively few published in-depth interviews on men’s experiences of being exposed to IPV (however, see, for example: Allen-Collinson 2009; Flinck et al. 2008; Migliaccio 2002; Rosen et al. 2005). Parallel to the research on men’s exposure to IPV, previous research has investigated women’s use of IPV toward male partners (for literature reviews on the subject see, for example: Bair-Merritt et al. 2010; Carney et al. 2007; Swan et al. 2008; Williams et al. 2008).

Michael P. Johnson’s work on different types or categories of IPV is perhaps one of the most influential theoretical contributions concerning men’s experiences of IPV (Johnson 1995; Johnson 2006; Kelly and Johnson 2008). The major differentiating factor between Johnson’s categories is the degree or nature of control accompanying the physical and/or sexual violence exercised by one or both partners in a couple, and the focus is thus shifted from a singular, violent act to its context of control. Johnson’s violence typology includes four main categories based on the behavior of both members of a couple (Johnson 2006; Johnson and Ferraro 2000; Kelly and Johnson 2008): intimate terrorism (IT), violent resistance (VR), situational couple violence (SCV) and mutual violent control (MVC).

IT encompasses relationships in which one partner is both violent and controlling, by the use of physical and/or sexual violence combined with multiple control tactics, in a way that either explicitly or implicitly aims at gaining general control over the partner, who does not use control, but who may or may not use violence (Johnson 2006). SCV, on the other hand, entails one or both partners using violence and control on a particular occasion or event, but this type of relationship is not rooted in one partner’s overall control of the other. Violence in this category is not likely to escalate, lead to physical injury or result in long-lasting fear of the violent partner. Consequently, these couples are also less likely to need police and shelter services than those in IT relationships (Johnson and Leone 2005). VR is defined as one partner being physically violent but without using control, whereas the other is both physically or sexually violent and controlling. The use of physical violence emerges in specific situations as a violent response or reaction to the other partner’s ongoing violence and control. This resembles self-defense which, however, does not entirely overlap with the various kinds of situations in which VR may occur (Johnson and Ferraro 2000). Finally, in MVC relationships, both partners use multiple control tactics as an overarching pattern accompanied by violence resembling that in IT (see above). Johnson argues that this type of IPV is rare and, citing controversy around it, he has chosen not to discuss MVC in some of his more recent work (Johnson 2010).

It is important to recall, however, that although studies have found differences between the violence categories with regard to the average severity of violent acts and their consequences (Graham-Kevan and Archer 2003; Johnson and Leone 2005; Leone et al. 2007), it is not the violent acts in themselves that separate the categories from one another, but rather the degree or nature of control accompanying them. Any particular act of violence may occur in relationships characterized by IT or, for instance, SCV. Instead, the focus is shifted from individual acts to the power dynamics between two partners (Kelly and Johnson 2008).

Finally, there has been lengthy controversy over whether IPV is gender-symmetrical, i.e. whether women and men are “equally” subjected to violence in opposite-sex relationships or whether IPV is mainly a form of men’s violence against women (Enander 2011). Johnson’s violence typology has been proposed as a solution to this gender symmetry controversy, indicating that men and women are subjected to different forms of violence based on the existing degree of control. More precisely, Johnson posits that relatively few men are subjected by female partners to those IPV types that are embedded in control (that is IT and MVC; Johnson 1995; Johnson 2006; Johnson and Ferraro 2000; Johnson et al. 2014; Kelly and Johnson 2008).

However, researchers have also proposed a stronger integration of gender and power in Johnson’s violence typology (Anderson 2005; Stark 2010; Enander 2011). For example, Johnson argues that SCV is gender-symmetrical. However, Anderson (2005) posits that gender does indeed affect SCV relationships and any other violence category relationships, since performances of masculinity and femininity influence the occurrence of IPV regardless of the levels of violence (Anderson 2005). Furthermore, structural inequalities shape the occurrence of both violence and control, calling for analyses that go beyond the relationship context under scrutiny in Johnson’s violence typology (Anderson 2005; Stark 2007).

The aim of this study is to explore and interpret men’s experiences of IPV in the light of selected current theoretical contributions to the field, with a special emphasis on Johnson’s violence typology. To achieve this goal, a hermeneutic spiral (Ödman 2007) was used as a method of analysis to allow interpretations and connections to be made between the literature and the material, which consisted of interviews with twenty men who self-identified as being or having been subjected to IPV.

Method

Recruitment and Participants

The recruitment of participants was conducted in Gothenburg and Stockholm, two major cities in Sweden. An invitation to be interviewed was distributed through flyers on bulletin boards located in crisis centers for men and in public places (grocery stores, libraries, universities, cafés, etc.), and as an ad on the social media site Facebook, addressed to men living in Stockholm or Gothenburg. The inclusion criteria were that the men speak Swedish, be at least 18 years old and live or have lived in an intimate relationship where they were or had been subjected to psychological, physical or sexual violence. No compensation was offered for participation.

In total, 24 men responded to the distributed invitation, although two of these men responded after the data collection had ended and were therefore not interviewed. Furthermore, one man wanted to know more about the study but was not interested in participating, two agreed to an interview time and date but did not turn up, and another man had experienced sibling abuse. In addition to the responses to the distributed invitation, two men expressed interest in participating after having read about the study in a newspaper (where the third author was interviewed) during the time of the data collection and were included. All in all, 20 men aged between 24 and 73 years were interviewed. The men were asked to bring a filled-in questionnaire with them to the interview, including socio-demographic information and questions related to experiences of violence and control in intimate relationships. With the exception of some of the socio-demographic information presented below, the contents of the questionnaire were not used in this study and it was not discussed during the interview. The survey data on IPV is planned for analysis in a forthcoming study.

Eighteen of the men described violence in opposite-sex and two in same-sex relationships. The length of the relationships varied between one and 25 years. Most of the men had separated from their partners, except two who were currently living with someone who was subjecting them to violence. Eleven of the interviewed men had a university-level degree, five were university students and three had a secondary school degree. Information on one person’s educational background is unknown because he declined to fill in the questionnaire. The participants’ occupational status varied (e.g. receiving a disability pension, working as a salesman, owning a private company, being a public transportation driver or working as an engineer). Two men had moved to Sweden as adults from the Middle East and one from another European country, whereas the rest were born and raised in Sweden. Eleven of the men had children.

Although the aim of the study was to explore men who had been subjected to IPV and the interview invitation reflected this aim, several of the men had used different forms of violence and control towards their partners, as well. This concurs with previous quantitative studies that found that men who are exposed to IPV often use it themselves (Anderson 2007; McKinney et al. 2009; Straus et al. 2009). Hence, the interviewed men’s own use of violence and control towards their partners was also analyzed in this study.

Interview Procedures

Given the explorative aim of the study, semi-structured interviews were conducted by the first author. These interviews were held in conference rooms at the competence centers for IPV located in Stockholm and Gothenburg, Sweden, and took place between September and December of 2012 and 2013. An interview guide with the following main areas was used: socio-economic background factors; the relationship in which IPV occurred; experiences of control and psychological, physical and sexual violence; consequences of the violence and control; and definitional aspects of violence (e.g. whether the respondents defined themselves as victims of IPV). The interview begun with the participant being invited to talk about the relationship in which the violence had occurred. Follow-up questions, such as “Do you remember how that made you feel?” and “What happened before/after that?” were asked. The length of the interviews ranged between 30 min and two hours. Half were transcribed verbatim by the first author and the other half by an assistant. Names, places and similar information that might compromise the participants’ anonymity were omitted during the transcription process. All names used in this study are fictional.

Ethical Considerations

At the beginning of each interview, written information was provided, including general information about the study and contact information for the responsible researchers, as well as for organizations with special competence in responding to men in distress. The opportunity to ask questions was presented at the beginning of each interview. A consent form was then signed by the participant and the interviewer, whereby the participant agreed to be interviewed and for the interviews to be tape-recorded and quotes to be used. The interviewer’s signature committed her to the ethical principles guiding the study, such as the principle of confidentiality. At the end of each interview, the participant was reminded about the contact sheet, in case he would want to continue to discuss his experiences with someone. Help was also offered in initiating this contact if the participant preferred. Ethical approval for this study was granted by the Regional Ethical Review Board in Gothenburg (registration number 337–12).

Analysis

The hermeneutic spiral (Fig. 1) provided the study with a context for reasoning and interpretation (Ödman 2007). At the beginning of the analysis, the researcher begins with a vague, general idea about the text and then proceeds to analyze the meaning of its components in the light of this general idea. Applied to the current study, we departed with an understanding that the men had experienced various kinds of violent relationships that differed from each other based on the type of control present. This perception was predominantly informed by Michael P. Johnson (1995); 2000; 2006) violence typology. First, the transcribed interviews were read by the first author to form a general idea of them, after which the sections referring to the men’s and/or their partners' use of control and different forms of violence were marked (including aims, consequences and forms of control). Within the hermeneutic spiral, the researcher moves in a cyclical, repeated manner between the parts (i.e. the marked passages) and the whole (i.e. the interview taken as a whole), with constant reference to the theoretical literature under consideration (e.g. Johnson’s typology), gradually deepening the analysis (Alvesson and Sköldberg 2008). Having gained an understanding of the marked passages, we then contrasted these parts against the interview to which it belonged: in this way, the marked passages and the interviews were understood in light of each other. Next, we returned to the research literature and made interpretations of the degree to which the data seemed to correspond to the theory that was being considered, which often generated new questions and hence we would again return to the marked passages, anew contrast them against the interview, again consider them in light of the theory and so on. This was continued until a coherent interpretation was reached (Kvale et al. 2009).

Fig. 1
figure 1

Illustration of the hermeneutic spiral. Spiral modified after The Florida Center for Instructional Technology

Full size image

Although this study is placed among theoretical discussions on men’s experiences of IPV, with a special emphasis on Johnson’s violence categories, we were, concurring with Ödman (2007), careful not to force the data into this theoretical framework. Hence, when something did not seem to comply with, or “fit” Johnson’s typology, it was considered as valuable information that led to further theoretical development.

Findings and Discussion

This section begins with an overview of the different types of violence and control that the interviewed men were subjected to and used themselves. The data is subsequently interpreted in the light of Johnson’s violence typology, presented as analogies based on “fitting” the typology. Finally, the Findings and Discussion sections are followed by a brief consideration of the structural aspects of men’s experiences of IPV.

Setting the Stage: An Overview of the Participants’ Experiences of IPV

The twenty participants recounted a range of incidents, contexts and consequences of being subjected to violence and control. Some of their partners were jealous, disliked their friends, made them pay for things, excluded them from family events or belittled, humiliated and/or called them names. In some cases, the control exercised by their partners went to great lengths, such as in the case of Evan, who explains how Leila, in his own words, “made me just give up the ability to think for myself”:

Evan: The most difficult bit during this whole process was not understanding why I felt so bad.

Interviewer: Right.

Evan: Why I was so sad, even though I was, like, giving everything I had emotionally and adapting to the point that I even cancelled job meetings to be able to be with her, and not understanding it, and there was this constant self-criticism; you blame yourself and, at the end of the day, you feel completely worthless.

Physically violent acts described by the men differed in severity, consequences and frequency, and included being shoved, threatened with a knife, slapped, kicked and hit. One man had suffered severe and repeated beatings in a same-sex relationship. Sexual coercion was reported in one same- and in one opposite-sex relationship. Most of the violent episodes described by the men occurred at home, whereas some occurred in public places such as at a tram stop or during a concert. Some of the men had been injured (e.g. scratch marks, bruises and, in one case, a broken rib), and they had experienced feelings ranging from sadness, anger, fear, powerlessness and worthlessness to being amused or feeling that it had not impacted them that much.

Most of the men had lived in opposite-sex relationships and were thus subjected to IPV by women. Some researchers have argued that if women subject men to violence, then gender is not significant to the study of IPV (Hines et al. 2007). Interestingly, however, some of the men described how their female partners ridiculed and belittled them for not embodying what Connell and Messerschmidt (2005) have defined as hegemonic masculinity, relegating them to subordinate masculinities. In other words, they were scorned for not making enough money, ridiculed for being “weak” and in one instance a woman mocked the participant for crying when she hit him. The women reinforced their verbal attacks by using sexist (“cunt”, “bitch”) and homophobic (“faggot”) language, marking the subordinate masculinities (Connell and Messerschmidt 2005). It thus seems that gender is indeed a useful category of analysis when women are aggressive toward men (Anderson 2005).

During the course of the interviews it emerged that many of the men, in addition to having been subjected to IPV, had also subjected their partners to different forms of violence and control. In fact, a couple of the men discussed their own use of physical violence more than that of their partners. For example, Linus replied to a question about the first violent episode in the relationship by recounting a physically violent act that his former partner claimed that he had committed:

Interviewer: (long pause) Can you remember, um, the first violent episode in your relationship? It might be difficult, but….

Linus: No, not that I remember, but I know she said that I had shoved a little table away, at some point. […] And then, what happened there, I really don’t remember it. But she said that I had knocked over a table, or something like that. So that’s what she said. But I don’t know if that’s violence, but….

Interviewer: (short pause) And what would you, what do you remember yourself?

Linus: That I hit her hand in the… car, we’re in the car and I have the stereo, I remember that.

In the interview that follows this excerpt, Linus continues to respond to different questions about violence in their relationship by describing other physically violent acts of his own, such as having shoved his partner or knocking over a shelf. Other men also reported grabbing, shoving, hitting, slapping, throwing things at their partners, intimidating and humiliating them and/or destroying their property; some of them had used physical violence frequently and others described isolated episodes. Some of the men doubted their partners’ fidelity and went through their mobile phones, showed up at their homes unannounced or called to check where they were, and a couple of participants apparently had exercised extensive control of their partners. Furthermore, one man had sexually coerced several female partners. According to the participants, their male and female partners’ reactions to their use of violence and control ranged from being scared, sad or anxious to little or no reaction at all.

Johnson’s Violence Typology in the Fitting Room

Not a Perfect fit When Perpetrated by Women: Intimate Terrorism

In this study, there was only one straightforward case (Matt) of IT, perpetrated by a man. This case exemplified many of the aspects that IT is hypothesized to include: emergency wards; requiring shelter and extensive medical services; severe, repeated and injurious beatings; actual terrorization; and the systematic, all-encompassing use of coercion and violence (Johnson and Ferraro 2000). Matt’s partner Ola did not allow him to sleep at night or leave the apartment several days a week. Ola also followed him daily at a distance of ten centimeters and did not let him go to the toilet by himself, refused to pay for rent and stole and extorted money from him. Matt felt terrorized, hopeless and imprisoned. While Ola’s use of physical violence was severely injurious, his emotional abuse also caused different, physical reactions:

Matt: I’m scared shitless.

Interviewer: Mm. Yes, I understand.

Matt: And then I get, it gets so that I faint sometimes, my whole body shakes, and then my heart…, like I can’t breathe, and I just, I have to lie down because I feel like I’m going to collapse any second. I can’t catch, I can’t breathe.

Interviewer: Yes... How does he react in that situation then?

Matt: He doesn’t notice anything, he’s so bloody… mad, that he….. He’s seen it, sometimes, when I, like, when I just collapse. He sees that I can’t breathe, that’s when he’ll, I guess, shut up for a while (*laughs*). Then when I start to breathe again, he goes at me again. ‘You’re insane, you’re insane, you’ve got Alzheimer’s, you’re demented!’, he screams at me, like.

While Johnson states that more research is needed in order to investigate how the violence typology is applicable to men in same-sex relationships (Johnson and Ferraro 2000), Ola’s and Matt’s case exemplifies how the concept of IT may indeed be useful to analyze partner violence in same-sex relationships. It is also the most researched violence category when it comes to male same-sex relationships to date (Messinger 2011). Except for this case in which the perpetrator was a man, however, there were no other “perfect fits” with IT in this study, apparently concurring with Johnson’s hypothesis that women rarely succeed in achieving this type of terror, control and violence over men.

Successful Control Exercised by Female Partners: Humiliation and Belittlement

One aspect of IT that does “fit” the experiences of the interviewed men considered in this section was that their partners undoubtedly had established some form of control over them. To characterize a relationship as IT, one needs “to look at a variety of nonviolent, controlling behaviors to identify individuals who behave in a manner that indicates a general motive to control” (Johnson 2006). The presence of overarching control, rather than the nature or severity of the physically violent acts themselves, is what distinguishes IT from the other violence categories in Johnson’s typology (Johnson 2006).

The theoretical grounding of control within IT is often based on the Power and Control Wheel (Pence and Paymar 1993), which includes multiple control tactics, of which the major categories are intimidation, emotional abuse, isolation, minimizing, denying and blaming, the use of children, male privilege, economic abuse, and coercion and threats (Johnson 2006). In this study, the most overwhelmingly common form of these control tactics was emotional abuse: name-calling, belittlement and both private and public humiliation. The men in these relationships were continuously blamed and ridiculed; according to their partners they were ugly, stupid, worthless and were miserable fathers and lovers. Expressing jealousy and threatening to take the children away or turn them against the men were two other relatively common forms of control tactics. One aspect of coercive power is the ability to impose the unwanted on one’s partner, or to remove or decrease that which is desired (Dutton and Goodman 2005). If the men did not comply with their partners’ demands, the latter would sulk, become angry, slap or hit them or throw things around. The men often stopped seeing their families and friends, gave up hobbies, missed work and lost their self-confidence and feeling of self-worth. Some men began to drink alcohol excessively or became depressed or had panic attacks, sometimes requiring sick-listing. In one opposite-sex relationship, in which the belittlement was particularly severe, the man had contemplated suicide. These control tactics were intentional, overarching and effective and it would have been difficult to refer to them as instances of SCV, in which this type of control is absent.

Why the Seams Itch: Physical and Sexual Violence are Unsuccessful Control Tactics

However, other aspects of control characteristic of IT were generally absent among the men in opposite-sex relationships, in that their female partners did generally not establish physical or sexual control over them (Johnson et al. 2014).

With one exception, sexual control was absent in the opposite-sex relationships. Furthermore, while physical violence was often used by the female partners, it rarely constituted an efficient or successful control tactic. Whether physical violence occurred frequently or on single occasions, the interviewed men often felt in control of their female partners’ physical violence and they could respond to it by walking away, holding them back or retaliating to make it stop. Oskar, for example, retaliated by hitting his partner Lisa after the most severe incident of physical violence directed towards him, in which Lisa hit him with a washing-up brush: “[T]hen she was gob smacked, wasn’t she, but I was ashamed somehow that we were in that situation. But at the same time I thought perhaps that this is what it took to make her understand what she was doing to us, somehow”. After his retaliation, Lisa stopped being physically violent, reflecting an amount of control that Oskar had over her physical violence. In another case, Sune felt that the physical violence directed at him had had little effect: “I wasn’t afraid of her physically, because it was just a few times that she, like, hit me, even if she did do so a couple of times.” The men seldom interpreted their female partners’ physical violence as serious or frightening, and it did not seem to pose a genuine threat to them. This might be because the same act of physical violence is often perceived differently depending on the gender of the perpetrator; moreover, previous research has found that men seldom consider women’s physical violence powerful or intimidating (Anderson 2005; Swan and Snow 2006).

The Color is Right, but the fit is too Tight: Men Fear Degradation, but not Physical Violence from Women

Studies often find that men who have been exposed to IPV report less fear in comparison to exposed women (Caldwell et al. 2012; Hester 2012). While some researchers have suggested that this is because men deny or minimize fear (Langhinrichsen-Rohling 2010), the interviewed men were open and willing to discuss fear, often bringing up the subject themselves. Longstanding fear of one’s partner is seen as an expression of IT (Kelly and Johnson 2008). According to many researchers, it is fear that distinguishes a pattern of ongoing abuse from episodic occurrences of physically violent acts (Osthoff 2002; Stark 2010). Furthermore, Johnson sometimes emphasizes terror (which is also implicit in the term intimate terrorism), which can be considered to express an even greater sense of entrapment and danger than fear. Among the interviewed men terror was only expressed by Matt, and this level of fear seems to have been caused by the severe beatings that he underwent: “I mean, I get terrified, because I know how strong he is, do not I? And how fucking much it can hurt.” Physical violence is an effective way to instill terror and cement other controlling behaviors (Dutton and Goodman 2005; Stark 2007), which was seldom accomplished by the female partners of the interviewed men. As mentioned previously, Matt’s partner was a man.

However, while the men were generally not afraid of physical violence, many expressed that they were constantly anxious and afraid of their partners’ ridicule, humiliation and outbursts. They adapted their behavior and avoided telling their partners where they had been and with whom, lying about their whereabouts in an (often failed) attempt to avoid being called names or accused of infidelity. Also, they commonly feared being falsely accused as perpetrators of IPV by the authorities, friends or family. This finding agrees with those of other studies (Flinck et al. 2008; Hines et al. 2007; Migliaccio 2002). In Timothy’s words:”I think it’s really easy for a woman today, to make a false…. like, to report a rape to the police even if it has not happened. I have been frightened of that as well, because I noticed she was controlling me more and more“. When men expressed having been frightened, it was thus generally not related to physical violence, but instead reflected the other types of non-physically violent control that their partners maintained. This is well summarized in a quote from Aiden:.

[M]en who get hit by women, I don’t think they’re ever afraid of the physical violence [...] so no, I wasn’t afraid of the physical bit because I can defend myself against that [...] but it’s more this uneasiness [about when she will erupt] that’s the fear.

The control that the men were subject to was effective and considerable; however, it did not achieve the levels of terror that can be reached by physical sanctions. While it is critical to recognize non-physically violent control, the ways in which the threat of physical violence can further reinforce non-violent control tactics should not be neglected. That is, while researchers have rightfully stressed that IPV victims may experience psychological violence as the worst form of violence (Kirkwood 1993), the added effect that physical violence may have in cementing an overarching control of one’s partner should also be recognized.

Why the Sleeves are too Short: The Absence of Other Intimate Terrorism Markers

Further underscoring some of the reasons why the men’s experiences did not “fit” the IT concept, several of the relationships lacked physical violence and/or the use of multiple control tactics, two aspects that are considered central to this IPV category.

Some of the relationships were characterized by overarching emotional control, but lacked physical violence altogether. Similarly, one large population-based study using latent class analysis found that the most prevalent class including men subjected to IPV did not include physical violence, and the researchers hence named it “Jealousy, verbal abuse” (Ansara and Hindin 2010). Another study conducted on same-sex relationships also defined a category of control that did not include physical violence and the authors suggested that Johnson’s violence typology be extended with a non-violent control category (Frankland and Brown 2013). This aspect was also observed in our study. Timothy, for example, was never physically abused by Eleonora, but recounted that “she sent me between 10 and 60 texts a day for almost nine years”, messages that belittled and insulted him, leaving him humiliated and depressed. Eleonora had established a form of subjugation that did not evolve into physical violence but was nevertheless characterized by control, leaving some ambiguity about how it should be conceptualized or placed within the violence typology.

IT usually posits a combination of control tactics that, together with physical and/or sexual violence, result in coercion. But we found that only one control tactic was used consistently in most cases. As previously mentioned, the men were controlled predominantly by emotional violence (belittlement and humiliation), which was seldom combined with other successful control tactics. In Oskar’s case, his wife’s jealousy affected what he could do and whom he could meet on a daily basis. However: “[W]e never fought about anything else. We never fought about money, about who should do what. We never fought about, I thought we had a good sex life, we never had any other problems.” While Lisa’s extreme jealousy aimed at and succeeded in establishing control over Oskar’s everyday life, it was not combined with other control tactics and this was thus not a clear case of IT. However, it would also be difficult to categorize this relationship as SCV, because the control that resulted from Lisa’s jealousy was overarching, effective and intentional, rather than sporadic and related to isolated episodes with little effect.

It’s not the Right Size, Anyway

In most instances, each relationship might have been assigned more than one classification in Johnson’s violence typology. For example, August was repeatedly sexually coerced by his girlfriend Hilda, who also subjected him to injurious physical violence. Clearly, Hilda had established sexual control of August (IT). Nevertheless, he felt that he was physically more powerful, that they argued as equals and that, while Hilda was afraid of him, he was not afraid of her (SCV). While he felt that he had no other choice than to yield to Hilda’s repeated sexual coercion (IT), he did not adapt other aspects of his life according to her behavior or demands. It seems, consequently, that Hilda’s control over August was not all-encompassing (SCV).

In addition, some of the men would probably have classified themselves as victims of IT, whereas their portrayal of their experiences indicated that they might in fact have been perpetrators of IT (and recipients of VR; see below). For example, Alfred described how he had stalked and humiliated Anna and used physical violence against her, and she was very upset and started to cry. He also belittled and expressed jealousy and suspiciousness of her during the interview. Similar aspects emerged in some of the other interviews as well, in which the men presented themselves as victims, but seemed to rationalize and excuse their own violent and controlling behaviors while overstating and magnifying their partners’ actions in a manner that is otherwise described as characteristic of IPV perpetrators (Anderson and Umberson 2001; Gottzén and Korkmaz 2013; Hearn 1998; Hester 2013). Hence, in a number of the interviews, there was ambiguity as to whether the men were the primary victims or perpetrators in these relationships, further underscoring some of the complexities involved in fitting Johnson’s violence categories to the data.

Violent Resistance

As discussed above, some of the interviewed men might have been the objects of VR from their female partners. Matt also used physical violence on several occasions in order to defend himself, ranging from trying to keep Ola’s hands away to fighting for his life. However, Matt also found other ways to resist Ola’s violence and control, such as hiding money so that it could not be stolen, exemplifying non-physically violent ways to resist a perpetrator of IT.

Describing an occurrence as a component of IT focuses on the general context of the perpetrator’s coercion of and violence towards the victim, whereas VR focuses on the victim’s use of physical violence. This category is valuable in that it draws attention to the use of violence in self-defense or retaliation, which has been overlooked and deserves further attention and research. However, listing it alongside, and thus on the same level as, the other categories within the violence typology diverts attention from the person using coercion and from the violence triggering the VR. In fact, the violence typology in general emphasizes violent and controlling relationships instead of the perpetrators’ violence toward and control of the victims, thus downplaying the perpetrators’ agency on some level. Instead, VR should be recognized as a sub-type of, or as occurring within, (some) cases of IT, as in Matt’s case. This would also highlight the fact that relationships in which VR occur are, by definition, always IT as well.

Finally, resistance and self-defense would also have been meaningful ways to characterize other relationships in which violence and control occurred, but which were not clear cases of IT (or SCV). Several participants described having used physical violence in self-defense or retaliation against female partners who had established emotional control over or been physically violent toward them. However, these actions fall outside the violence typology, since VR is characterized as retaliation against a perpetrator of IT (Johnson et al. 2014), underlining that men’s use of physical violence in self-defense or retaliation occurs in other types of relationships than IT.

Situational Couple Violence

The men in the opposite-sex SCV relationships differed from those who were subjected to an established pattern of emotional control, as described earlier, in that their partners’ use of control and/or violence occurred in a specific situation or argument. This is illustrated by quotes from Emil: “we fought about trivial stuff”, “we went at each other” and “when she shoved me or hit me or… I could try to shove her away, or try to stop her… yeah, sometimes I would also hold on to her and not let her go, yes, absolutely”. Also, the men were not generally anxious or afraid of their partners’ emotional control like the men who were afraid of degradation and humiliation, although they could be during specific incidents, as expressed by Jacob: “[W]hen it started to escalate, that’s when I could feel [frightened], because normally I did not feel frightened like that, she was very kind, very nice, very sweet”. The acts of physical violence could range from injurious and repeated violence to isolated shoves or slaps.

The SCV category included relationships that differed vastly from one another in this study, which has also been noted in other studies (Graham-Kevan and Archer 2003; Rosen et al. 2005). Furthermore, some of the relationships were difficult to categorize. For example, Edgar’s partner Mia suspected that he had raped and sexually abused her young child. The moment she suspected this, she burst into the bedroom where he was sleeping and assaulted him. He was not subjected to physical violence at any other time during their relationship and Mia did not exercise control. Assuming, solely for the sake of the exercise, that Mia’s accusations were correct, Edgar’s behavior could possibly also be characterized as IT toward Mia (and Mia’s actions as VR); however, his actions would not have directly targeted Mia, but her child. In another case, Faraz was shoved twice by his wife during an argument, and he grabbed her arm once and hit the table with his fist. He was unhappy and depressed, feeling that they were not a good match; they argued a lot and later divorced. Finally, Tom was once hit by his girlfriend, whom he immediately hit back, which shocked her and she apologized for her behavior. Neither Edgar’s, Faraz’s nor Tom’s partner tried to gain overarching control, but they fall into the category of SCV due to these singular episodes of physical violence. There is thus a risk that SCV can include “all and nothing” or understate vast differences among relationships in which violence occurs. Moreover, the question arises of when fights or unhappy unions turn into IPV relationships, as well as whether all acts of physical violence should be interpreted as IPV.

Mutual Violent Control

None of the cases in our study fit the MVC category. Indeed, it is difficult to imagine how two partners could simultaneously exercise violence and control of each other, resulting in fear and physical injury. It would seem that the successful exercising of overarching control is, by definition, at least dependent on depriving the other partner of any actual power or control in the relationship. Indeed, researchers are sometimes uncertain about whether or not to classify a relationship as IT or MVC (e.g. Rosen et al. 2005) – two very different categories, the first of which entails subjugation of one partner to the other, and the second of which refers to partners who are equal in power. There is an inherent danger, with subsequent ethical implications, associated with the MVC category in which a victim’s actions carried out in self-defense can be confused “with voluntary acts of engaging in physical fights” (McClennen 2005).

IPV in the Context of Structural Inequalities

One difference between women and men who are subjected to IPV is that women in addition to their victimization also struggle against a society that is likely to disempower them, whereas men may struggle with other issues such as the maintenance of a masculine ideal (Dobash and Dobash 2004; Migliaccio 2001). Although women have gained significant ground in Sweden with regard to being part of the labor force, education and occupying decision-making positions, historical and current forms of gender inequality continue to affect IPV. For example, women can rarely curtail the economic independence of their male partners by preventing them from working or determining their allowance. These are two forms of economic control depicted in the Power and Control Wheel that are better suited to describing men’s control tactics against women. In fact, most of the men who were subjected to IPV in our study considered themselves to be economically equal to their partners or, in some instances, that they had the economic advantage. In other words, some of the female partners exercising physical violence toward and control over their partners were economically dependent on them. However, there were exceptions. Benjamin’s partner Florence, for example, earned more than he did and also owned the apartment they lived in, which made him more vulnerable when she later decided that they should divorce. Nonetheless, when women are violent and controlling, structural gender inequalities generally do not facilitate their use of IPV as in the case of men (Anderson 2005; Caldwell et al. 2012; Dutton and Goodman 2005; Stark 2010; Swan and Snow 2006). Another aspect of the Power and Control Wheel that is difficult to “fit” with men’s experiences of IPV is the use of male privilege as a control tactic against one’s partner. This refers to the micro-regulation of experiences and expectations related to the performances of femininity, such as chores belonging to the private sphere (cooking, cleaning and taking care of others; Stark 2007). In contrast, performances of masculinity are more closely linked to power and the control of others. This, in turn, constrains women’s possibilities to exercise similar control over men’s performances of masculinity, such as “breadwinning, care of automobiles, and lawn-mowing” (Anderson 2009). While women can achieve emotional control over their partners with significant and detrimental effects, as exemplified in some of the interviews in this study, they are not able to recreate gender inequalities to men’s disadvantage while doing so (Stark 2007). In fact, as recounted earlier, the female partners of the interviewed men often used emotional control in a way that quoted and reproduced hierarchies between subordinate (e.g. crying when being hit or being gay) and hegemonic (i.e. being strong and heterosexual) masculinities, instead.

Furthermore, many of the participants expressed that their own actual use of or potential to use physical violence was more threatening and powerful than their partners’ acts of physical violence. The interviewed men often stated that their female partners used physical violence to get their attention, and frequently described it as something that the women were not in control of, but instead used when they were being “hysterical” or “crazy” (typical quotes). Instead, the men often felt that they were in control of their partners’ physical violence. To some extent, differences in body size and strength make it difficult for women to use physical violence in opposite-sex relationships in the same way as men. However, social power matters as well as physical power. This is illustrated by a quote from Linus, when he answers a question about whether he thinks that his wife was afraid of him: “She most probably was, yes she probably was. She knows that I practice martial arts, and that I am much bigger than her, so… And just the fact that you are a man. I think that almost all women are afraid of men, I think so.” Gender organizes the practices of physical violence on a structural level and women and girls are not socialized to use physical violence in the same way as boys and men, many of whom are also trained in the practice of physical aggression in arenas such as the military and sports (Anderson 2005). In fact, the interviewed men commonly reported how they had trained martial arts, built up their muscle size, played some sport professionally or were otherwise physically active, often drawing on this to explain their physical superiority in relation to their female partners. Moreover, acknowledging physical vulnerability in relation to one’s partner entails giving up a position of power. Gender norms are quick to sanction or discount physically violent women, whereas physical violence is often a normalized practice of masculinity; men’s physical violence is generally bestowed with power and considered threatening whereas women’s physical violence is not (Anderson 2002, 2005; Hester 2012; Johnson et al. 2014; Stark 2007).

Furthermore, in a world that grants men access to women’s bodies in the form of sexist advertisements, prostitution, rape and trafficking (Farley 2006; Farwell 2004; Hester 2004), it is difficult for women to achieve sexual power over men, a consistent finding in quantitative studies on sexual IPV in opposite-sex relationships (Ferraro 2013; Swan et al. 2008; Tanha et al. 2010). In fact, some of the interviewed men that were subjected to IPV interpreted their female partners’ non-participation in sexual acts as a form of sexual violence or control. This suggests that the men felt that they had the right to sex, even in situations in which their partners were unwilling. In summary, gender as a pervasive structure affects both expressions and experiences of IPV.

Minority Stress

Structural inequalities other than those related to gender – such as sexual identity – also shape the occurrence of IPV. Stuart was Robert’s first same-sex partner after his long-term marriage to a woman had come to an end: “I have lost my self-confidence, have not I (pause), and then this whole thing about being with blokes, and it’s not very nice to start out like this, with an experience like that and to feel like, because I feel like it’s affected me sexually as well. I feel, yeah, subdued and like at the bottom[.]” Robert struggled not only with the experience of having been subjected to IPV, but also with the fact that it took place in a same-sex relationship in a society where sexual minorities are marked by a position of inequality. Researchers have coined this as minority stress, meaning that homophobic norms influence and shape IPV, aggravating its consequences (Messinger 2011). Matt regularly fled his apartment to get away from Ola, and he took refuge at his friends’ homes, sleeping on their couches and floors while he worked up the courage to go back home. This was the only viable option for him, as there are no shelter services for victims of IPV in male same-sex relationships in Sweden. Furthermore, at the beginning of each interview, both Matt and Robert told the interviewer (first author) that they were homosexual or that they were going to recount violence that occurred in a same-sex relationship. This resembles a kind of “coming out”, described as a response to a culture that assumes heterosexuality as the norm (Messinger 2011). These examples show how inequalities of different kinds affect the consequences of IPV, underlining the importance of including them in its analysis.

Summary and Final Discussion

Our aim was to explore and interpret men’s experiences of IPV in the light of selected current theoretical contributions to the field, with a special emphasis on Michael P. Johnson’s violence typology. The men were subjected to a variety of physically violent acts and they were controlled to different degrees by their female and male partners. Many of the men had used violence and control against their partners as well. While the men’s female partners’ use of emotional abuse constituted a successful control tactic, physical and sexual control was generally not achieved by the women and there were no “perfect fits” with IT (and hence, VR) in the opposite-sex relationships. Instead, one same-sex relationship could be classified as IT. Finally, structural inequalities related to gender and sexuality shaped the experiences and expressions of IPV, highlighting the need for analyses that integrate these aspects.

Findings from the current study suggest that health and social work professionals need to be sensitive towards the possibility that a male visitor has been exposed to IPV. It is important to confirm their experiences, especially considering that male victims may fear being viewed as perpetrators when seeking help (Migliaccio 2002). Furthermore, frameworks dealing with a variety of situations in which IPV takes place and that include knowledge of both victimization and perpetration, which may not be easily distinguished during short visits within health care practices (Gadd et al. 2003) and counseling facilities, need to be developed and integrated in the training of practitioners of different kinds. In addition, as IPV occurs in both same- and different-sex relationships, it is relevant to ask about experiences of IPV when the patient’s partner or “friend”, who may be the perpetrator, is not present. All forms of IPV should be acknowledged, including emotional, physical and sexual abuse. Consultation should take place in a private setting where confidentiality of the visitor is guaranteed, and both the mental and physical consequences of IPV need to be considered (World Health Organization 2013).

It would have been interesting to compare these men’s accounts with women’s accounts of IPV, in order to enable more direct comparisons of their respective IPV experiences, thus possibly further elucidating how gender influences IPV. However, this was not feasible given the time and budgetary constraints of this study. Furthermore, only one member of the couple was interviewed in each case and all information on the partner’s behavior was hence obtained indirectly. Our understanding of some of the relationships might have changed had both partners been interviewed. However, requiring that both parties in a couple agree to participate in an interview on IPV would probably have reduced the number of cases of more severe and controlling IPV. Interviews with both members of a couple would also necessitate careful ethical consideration not to endanger a participant to further violence by his or her partner. Moreover, men who are exposed to IPV may feel shame and be unwilling to discuss their experiences as it may threaten their sense of masculinity (Migliaccio 2001; Migliaccio 2002). While the men in the current thesis seldom expressed shame to discuss their experiences, it could be that those who feel this way did not participate. In addition, the items on IPV included in the questionnaire filled out prior to the interview may have triggered memories that would otherwise not have been brought up during the interview, or pushed other experiences that were not covered in the questionnaire to the background. Nevertheless, the interviews provided a space for recollection and the men were encouraged, using follow-up questions, to remember situations in which violence and control had occurred. Finally, the sample of the current study consisted of 20 participants and no statistical inferences based on this convenience sample are attempted. Instead, our aim is to contribute with theoretical perspectives and qualitative insights on men’s exposure to IPV. While we found similar results to another interview-based study discussing Johnson’s violence typology (Rosen et al. 2005), other studies with other samples may find differing results.

In agreement with our findings, the closest case of IT in another study that included interviews with both members of fifteen opposite-sex couples, consisted of a woman who used physical violence and control against her male partner, but which did not result in fear; they called this pseudo-intimate terrorism (Rosen et al. 2005). Had we also interviewed women for this study, it is possible that we would have had difficulties dividing their experiences of IPV into Johnson’s categories as well, and there might be inherent difficulties in applying this violence typology to interview-based material (c.f. Rosen et al. 2005). Since Johnson’s violence categories are derived from quantitative, survey-based studies that classify couples according to checklists of violent and controlling acts, it is possible that interview-based material would have revealed complexities and nuances involved in relationships with IPV, making them more difficult to categorize. Future studies on whether and how differences in quantitative and qualitative methodologies affect the applicability of Johnson’s violence typology would help illuminate this issue. Also, the definitions of the categories are not always clear – for example, both in this and other studies (see Johnson 1995), physical violence is alternately referred to as a control tactic and as an expression of violence. Furthermore, is it necessary for the physical violence to be frightening, or is anxiety-inducing physical violence together with multiple (how many – two, three or more?) control tactics sufficient for classification as IT? Does the IT definition distinguish between attempted and achieved control? Clarifying the definitions of Johnson’s violence categories would help to clarify these issues.

However, the absence of clear cases of IT perpetrated by female partners in this study also underlines the difficulties women have in achieving the type of control that is enforced by physical and sexual sanctions, suggesting that the dynamics of violence and control differ depending on whether they are perpetrated by women or men (Johnson 2006; Swan and Snow 2006). Another study conducted among women who had used IPV towards a male partner and that considered the role of coercive control, similarly found that women were seldom able to obtain high levels of coercion in their relationships (Swan and Snow 2002). This does not, however, mean that women never batter or (try to) exercise IT, but they do so much more seldom and against another backdrop than men with differing gender theoretical consequences. Similar to male batterers, however, previous work has found that women who use violence in heterosexual relationships display a variety of personality disorders (e.g. borderline personality or previous trauma; Goldenson et al. 2009). Correspondingly, a couple of the interviewed men in opposite-sex relationships who were exposed to more repeated and severe incidences of physical violence maintained that their partners had been diagnosed with personality disorders. However, as the focus of the current study is men’s exposure to IPV, all information on their partners’ behavior was obtained second-hand.

While this study set out to explore men’s subjugation to IPV, as reflected in the wording of the interview invitation, some of the participants seemed to be perpetrators of IPV themselves. In contrast, men who were subjected to IPV were often afraid of being accused as perpetrators of IPV by authorities, family and friends. These findings emphasize the multifaceted aspects of men’s experiences of IPV and encourage the creation of theoretical frameworks to thoroughly include aspects of both victimization and perpetration, taking the complexity of these issues into account. While there were no “perfect fits” with IT perpetrated by women in this study, several of the men had been subjected to IPV by male and female partners, leading to severe negative health and social consequences. Also, regardless of the difficulties in classification, Johnson’s proposition that relationships differ based on the extent of achieved control was also found in this study. Hence, future research should generate theoretical frameworks that take control into consideration but that also revise or go beyond Johnson’s violence typology to depict men’s experiences of IPV, with an emphasis on verbal abuse. Another key contribution of this study is exemplifying how structural considerations provide an additional backdrop to men’s experiences of IPV, in addition to the relationship context that most often is under scrutiny in Johnson’s violence typology. Based on the findings in this study, it is crucial for future theoretical frameworks to integrate gender-theoretical perspectives in order to further elucidate the multifaceted aspects of men’s experiences of IPV.