How a chance meeting in a Brisbane car park helped this mother heal from domestic violence

Shelley Kay clearly remembers the moment she met the woman who would change her life.

It was August 2023 and the mother of two was getting back on her feet after ending an abusive relationship.

She'd travelled to Logan, in Brisbane's south, to attend a meeting at a women's help centre — but she couldn't find a car park.

Eventually she found a spot blocked by two wheelie bins, which she promptly removed, before dashing to her appointment.

When she returned, a strange woman wearing a purple shirt was waiting for her.

"She said, 'is this your car?'" Shelley recalls.

"I said… 'yeah'.

"'Then she goes, 'well you better move it, or I'll slash your tires."

Shocked, Shelley started crying.

Then the strange woman started laughing.

"She said, 'would you like a cup of tea?'" Shelley recalls.

The stranger was Jo Westh, a domestic violence support worker who travels around Queensland providing support to women feeling violence.

And so began a unique friendship between the two women.

"She's been in my corner ever since," Shelley says.

Cups of tea and emotional support

Jo Westh started charity 4 Voices during the pandemic to support marginalised women experiencing homelessness and domestic violence.

The charity's distinctive purple vans and matching marquees are stationed outside Centrelink offices or courts several times a week across Brisbane.

Volunteers offer cups of tea and emotional support to women and men walking past.

"We typically deal with people in crisis," Jo says.

"They might be somebody that has fled domestic violence that is living on the streets, or someone that's experiencing domestic violence, but has not made the decision to leave."

The vans are equipped with mobile phones, printers, scanners and a much-appreciated coffee machine so that volunteers can help with resumes and financial assistance applications.

It's a starting point for women who may otherwise feel overwhelmed in a formal setting.

"There's rarely a person you talk to that hasn't been touched by domestic violence," Jo says.

Jo, too, can clearly remember the day she met Shelley Kay.

"She was a gorgeous looking woman … she presented so confidently," she says.

"Little did I know what was going on behind that."

Finding the strength to leave

Shelley first asked her former partner to leave 10 years ago.

"I woke up one morning and he cut one side of my hair off. I picked up my hair off the floor and I went to the police station," she says.

"That afternoon his stuff was on the front lawn."

Like so many people experiencing domestic violence, Shelley found herself eventually reuniting with her ex.

The financial pressure of supporting two young children as a single mother was weighing on her.

Over the course of their relationship, she says she was subjected to varying levels of abuse and coercive control.

Years later, she asked her former partner to leave again.

"I had women say I shouldn't leave; I can't afford to live without him. In the end, it came down to my mental health," she says.

Slowly, Shelley started rebuilding her life. She moved to more affordable housing. Her non-verbal autistic son started speaking again.

Shelley says Jo was by her side for every step.

"Jo had her arm around me the whole time."

'Maybe there is hope'

Jo says situations like Shelley's are unusual for domestic violence survivors.

"She's incredible because she actually told this man who had been abusing her for many years to leave — and he did," Jo says.

"That's the strength of character we're talking about."

The charity worker and former chief executive of Orange Sky Laundry says most women suffer in silence for years and struggle to break free from violent situations.

Those who do leave often face the very real prospect of homelessness, poverty and even returning to their abusers.

"The published [domestic violence] figures are the tip of the iceberg," Jo says.

Jo's distinctive purple van still pulls into Shelley's driveway a few times a week. She frequents the south Brisbane house so often she has a spare key.

It's clear the two women have a strong admiration for each other, despite the unusual circumstances of their meeting.

"Shelley's story is so important because other women can think that maybe there is hope," Jo says, cup of tea in hand.

Shelley agrees.

"It's a long road, but I feel like I'm finally nearly there."

If you're affected by family or domestic violence, please contact the confidential hotline 1800RESPECT.