Stalking and harassment after a break-up: when “no” does not stop the contact

“I just wanted to see if you were all right.”

The message arrives at eleven at night, three months after the break-up. It is not the first this week. Two days ago his car was parked outside the shop where you do your Wednesday shopping; yesterday he messaged a friend of yours to say you looked “very tired”. None of it can be reported as a threat. Each thing on its own can be explained away. Together, though, they create the feeling that you are never truly alone any more — and that feeling slowly changes you.

Stalking and harassment after a break-up is one of those forms of violence that the people around you find easiest to play down. “He still loves you.” “He isn’t doing anything to you.” “Don’t respond and he’ll stop.” Sometimes he does stop. Often he does not, and the person on the receiving end is left alone with the question of whether they are overreacting. In this post I will describe what stalking is, why it happens precisely after a break-up, what it does to the person experiencing it, and where to find help. But first, to be clear: this post is not a tool for assessing how dangerous your former partner is. No post can do that. If you are afraid for yourself or your children, call the police on 113 in Slovenia, 112 if you are in immediate danger, and for a conversation and advice the SOS helpline for women and children who are victims of violence on 080 11 55 in Slovenia.

When concern turns into stalking

After a break-up almost everyone looks at their ex’s profile now and then, sends a message they would have been better off not sending, or drives past the old street. That is part of grieving, and it is not stalking. Stalking begins when three things come together: repetition, being unwanted — the other person has clearly shown or said that they do not want contact — and an effect of fear or anxiety on the person experiencing it. What someone “means” by their actions is not the point. The point is that they continue even though they are unwanted, and that they restrict the other person’s life.

It is more common than people think. A 2014 survey by the European Union Agency for Fundamental Rights, involving 42,000 women from every member state, found that 18 per cent of women had experienced stalking since the age of 15. Not all stalkers are former partners, but research consistently shows that former partners are among the most common and among the most persistent. Men experience stalking too, and that is talked about even more rarely.

In Slovenia, stalking is a criminal offence in its own right under the Criminal Code. That means there is no need to wait for a physical attack or an explicit threat for the behaviour to count as serious — repeated following, monitoring and harassment that make the other person afraid are prohibited in themselves.

What it looks like

Stalking has many faces. Some are obvious; others hide easily behind an appearance of concern or coincidence:

• Constant contact — calls, messages, emails, letters, gifts, even after you have clearly said you do not want them.
• Turning up — outside your work or home, in the shop, at your child’s training; “chance” meetings that keep happening.
• Remote monitoring — following your profiles, fake accounts, tracking devices, access to your accounts or location through your phone.
• Harassment through others — asking friends, relatives or colleagues about you, spreading rumours, making contact through the children.
• Threats — against you, people close to you, themselves (“if you leave me, I don’t know what I’ll do”), even against pets or property.

The technological side is especially insidious. A phone you once shared, joint accounts, passwords he knows, a tracker hidden in the car — the researcher Delanie Woodlock has described how technology allows an abuser to be “everywhere”, even when physically nowhere. How to check your phone and accounts is covered in Digital abuse: control through phones and social media.

Why it happens precisely after a break-up

The psychiatrist Paul Mullen and his colleagues Michele Pathé and Rosemary Purcell described several types of stalker in their Australian research. The most common group were the rejected — people who had been in a close relationship with the victim and who would not accept that the relationship was over. Their behaviour is a mixture of a wish for reconciliation and a wish for revenge, which can alternate from one day to the next. In this group, stalking often went on longer than in others.

A break-up stirs something very old in each of us. The brain responds to the loss of someone close in a way similar to withdrawal — I wrote about this in Why we think about an ex for so long after a break-up. Most people bear that pain, grieve, sometimes go back and leave again — as described in Why we go back to exes. A stalker, however, does not bear the pain but turns it into action. Often it is someone who was already controlling within the relationship: checking your phone, deciding who you saw, getting angry at every independent step. The break-up takes that control away — and stalking is an attempt to get it back.

That does not mean every stalker was violent before. But it does mean it is reasonable to take stalking especially seriously after a relationship in which there was violence or control.

Why it isn’t “romantic”

Films and songs have taught us that persistence is proof of love: whoever truly loves never gives up. That story is harmful because it blurs the line between longing and control. Love accepts a “no”, even when it hurts. Stalking does not.

There is another, more serious reason not to take stalking lightly. An American study by Judith McFarlane and colleagues in 1999 examined cases of women killed by a current or former partner. For the great majority of these women, stalking had occurred in the year before the killing. This does not mean that stalking usually ends that way — mostly it does not. But it does mean that stalking after a break-up, especially after a violent relationship, is a warning sign to be taken seriously and discussed with professionals, not judged on your own.

You cannot assess how dangerous your former partner is with an online questionnaire. That is the job of the police and specialised organisations, which have particular knowledge and tools for assessing risk. You do not need proof that you are in “enough” danger to call. It is enough that you are afraid.

What happens inside you

In one of the first studies on the consequences of stalking, Michele Pathé and Paul Mullen described how deeply it reaches into a victim’s life. People reported constant tension, sleeplessness, nightmares, changes to their routes and habits, changing jobs or homes, withdrawing from friends. Many had symptoms of post-traumatic stress.

The body learns that danger could be round any corner. Hypervigilance sets in — constantly scanning your surroundings, jumping at every phone notification, checking the cars in the car park. That is not overreacting; it is a nervous system doing exactly what it was made to do. But in the long run it is exhausting. People start to shrink: they no longer go where they used to like going, they stop posting, they do not answer unknown numbers, they stop seeing friends so as not to put them in an awkward position.

Alongside this there is often self-doubt. Because those around you say “it’s nothing serious”, you begin to believe the problem lies with you. That doubt is part of what stalking does — much as with manipulation, where someone else gradually takes over your version of reality.

A conversation many people will recognise

This is how a conversation between two friends might sound (composed, not a real person):

“He was outside my work again. He said he just happened to be nearby.”
“For the fourth time this month?”
“Yes. But he doesn’t say anything. He just stands there.”
“How do you feel when you see him?”
“As if I can’t breathe. I check the rear-view mirror the whole way home.”
“Him not saying anything doesn’t mean it’s nothing. You’re afraid — and that’s reason enough to talk to someone about it.”
“I don’t want to overreact. He’s still my children’s father.”
“He can be both. And you have the right to go to work without being afraid.”

Her friend didn’t tell her what to do. She told her something more important: that her fear was not an overreaction.

What helps

There is no single rule that applies to every situation. But specialised organisations and the police often recommend a few steps:

• Say it clearly once, then no more. If it is safe, say once, preferably in writing, that you do not want contact. After that, do not reply — not angrily, not “one last time”. Any response, even a negative one, can reinforce the behaviour.
• Keep a record. Dates, times, what happened, screenshots, names of witnesses. This is valuable to the police and the courts.
• Tell the people around you. Colleagues, neighbours, your children’s school. Not out of shame, but because they can warn you and act as witnesses.
• Secure your digital life. New passwords, two-step verification, checking shared locations and devices.
• Make a safety plan with a professional: what you will do if he turns up, where you will go, whom you will call. How to put one together is described in A safety plan for abuse: what it is and how to put one together.

In Slovenia the police can also issue a restraining order prohibiting someone from approaching a particular person or place. Whether and how to take legal action is best discussed with the police or with an organisation that supports victims of violence.

An exercise: a log that lightens the load

Recording incidents does two jobs. The first is practical: evidence. The second is less obvious: once it is written down, you do not have to carry it all in your head. You can do this exercise today.

1. Choose a safe place for your notes. Not on a device your former partner has or had access to. It could be a notebook kept somewhere else, or a new email account with a new password.
2. For each incident, write down five things: the date, time, place, what happened (word for word, without interpretation) and who else was there.
3. Keep evidence separately. Screenshots, messages, call lists. Do not delete them, even if you never want to see them again — move them to a folder you do not open every day.
4. Add one line about yourself. How you felt, what you changed in your day. That is not for the police but for you — so you can see how much this is costing you.
5. Close the notebook and do something that brings you back into your body. Go for a short walk with someone you trust, or slowly drink a glass of water and name three things you can hear. The log is not a place to stay in.

Where the line blurs

I want to be fair in the other direction too. Not every contact after a break-up is stalking. People who share children have to communicate — and a few messages about the schedule or who is collecting the children are not harassment, even if the conversation is tense. Nor is it stalking if a former partner tries once or twice to apologise or asks to talk, and backs off when they hear “no”.

But this post may also reach someone who recognises themselves on the other side: who cannot stop writing, who “happens” to drive past, who cannot help checking. If that is you, it is a sign that the pain of the break-up is looking for a way out through actions that harm someone else — and you. There is help for you too: from your GP, on the crisis line, or in individual therapy. The first step is to stop making contact, even when it is hardest.

Children and shared contact

It is hardest when you share children with your former partner. Contact cannot simply be cut off, and handovers become an opportunity for control, pressure and harassment. Advice on good co-parenting — as described in Co-parenting after separation: how to stay a team when you are no longer a couple — applies to separations without violence. Where there is violence or stalking, the goal is different: not cooperation, but safety and predictability.

That may mean written communication instead of calls, handovers in a neutral place or in the presence of a third person, and involving the social work centre. It also holds that joint sessions with a former partner — couples therapy or joint conversations where you would have to sit in the same room — are not an appropriate form of help where there is violence. Specific contact arrangements should be discussed with the social work centre and a lawyer.

Where to find help

• Police: 113 in Slovenia, 112 in immediate danger. You can report stalking even if there has been no physical violence.
• SOS helpline for women and children who are victims of violence: 080 11 55 in Slovenia — free and anonymous; they can also help with a safety plan and direct you to counselling services or safe houses.
• Klic v duševni stiski (crisis line): 01 520 99 00 in Slovenia — every day from 7 pm to 7 am.
• Samarijan confidential helpline: 116 123 in Slovenia — 24 hours a day.
• Social work centre (center za socialno delo) — for questions about children and contact.

I am not a specialist in violence myself, and assessing danger is not the task of therapy. But once a person is safe, individual therapy offers room for what stalking leaves behind: the constant tension, the lost trust in your own perception, the slow return to places you had to give up.

What to remember

• Stalking is repeated, unwanted and causes fear — however the other person explains it.
• In Slovenia stalking is a criminal offence; you do not have to wait for a physical attack to report it.
• After a violent or controlling relationship, stalking is a warning sign to take seriously — danger should be assessed by a professional, not an online test.
• Say it clearly once, then don’t respond; keep a record and tell others.
• Help in Slovenia: 113, 112, SOS helpline 080 11 55, crisis line 01 520 99 00.