Close Enough to Miss It: Understanding Proximity and Power in Rural Responses to Domestic Abuse
By Leah Vejzovic, LMSW, North America Regional Manager, Safe & Together Institute
When people picture rural life, they often imagine safety—open spaces, familiar neighbors, and a slower pace. But as I learned working with families in rural Iowa as a Behavioral Health Intervention Services (BHIS) provider, proximity doesn’t always equal protection.
One of the families I worked with lived on a farm miles from town. The children were quiet and reserved, often occupied with chores when I visited. I rarely had a chance to see them alone—except at school, which quickly became the safest environment for open conversation. On the surface, everything looked stable: hardworking parents, close family ties, community involvement. But that surface calm masked the kind of control and silence that’s harder to name, harder to document, and even harder to intervene in—especially in small communities where “everyone knows everyone.” It wasn’t until I viewed their situation through a perpetrator pattern–based lens that I saw the full picture.
The Paradox of Proximity
At our virtual Coercive Control & Children conference in December of last year, Dr. Anni Donaldson spoke about what she calls “the paradox of proximity.” In tight-knit rural communities, the very closeness that fosters belonging can also block access to help. Survivors may hesitate to seek support because they fear gossip, community backlash, or that their disclosure will reach the person causing them harm. And perpetrators often weaponize aspects of rural living as a part of their pattern of coercive control.
But proximity doesn’t just affect survivors—it affects helpers, too. The same professional asked to offer support may have grown up with, gone to church with, or currently socialize with both the victim and the perpetrator. Or they may have cultural obligations or ties to the community that impact how they work with families. Dr. Donaldson noted how this overlap can create confusion, loyalty conflicts, or even fear of reprisal within helping networks themselves.
From my own experience, this rings true. It’s not that rural professionals don’t care—they care deeply—but caring is complicated when professional and personal circles overlap. The “right thing” to do isn’t always clear, and the cost of getting it wrong can feel higher when the community is small and unforgiving.
What Perpetrator Patterns Look Like in Rural Contexts
When we use the Safe & Together Model’s perpetrator pattern–based lens, we start to see how geography and community structure can amplify certain tactics of coercive control:
Isolation disguised as distance: Long drives, unreliable transportation, property cameras, and limited cell service become part of the control system. A partner can easily monitor movements under the guise of “safety” or “tradition.”
Community reputation as leverage: In small towns, image matters. Perpetrators may use community standing—“no one will believe you, everyone knows me”—to silence survivors.
Economic and land-based control: In agricultural families, the business is often the home. Leaving may mean not just losing a relationship, but losing housing, income, animals, and identity tied to generations of work.
Limited service options: When there’s only one school counselor, one pastor, or one social worker, it’s easy for the perpetrator to intercept support—or for survivors to worry that seeking help will expose them.
These are not “rural problems.” They are contextual variations of perpetrator behavior, and we need to name them as such. Without a perpetrator pattern–based approach, systems risk seeing these dynamics as cultural quirks or logistical barriers rather than deliberate tactics of control that shape the child’s daily functioning.
What This Means for Practice
Rural practitioners are often resourceful, multitasking professionals who wear many hats. But being close to families doesn’t automatically mean we’re seeing clearly. Proximity can create blind spots—especially if we’re not systematically documenting who is doing what to whom and how those behaviors are affecting children.
For example, with the farm family I shared about, I was the third provider to work with their family. I had to be brought in from “outside” because the perpetrator’s father was the former county sheriff and other community providers had struggled to hold him accountable due to their connections with the family and their position of power in the community.
A few practice shifts that align with the Safe & Together Model can help:
Name the behavior, not the setting. Don’t assume remoteness or “farm life” explains isolation. Ask how travel, communication, and social connections function within the family system and who controls them.
Map the community relationships. Identify where loyalties, shared spaces, or power imbalances might complicate safety planning. This includes professionals’ own connections. Recognize how perpetrators may utilize these relationships as a part of their pattern of behavior or to evade accountability.
Create confidential access points. Schools, medical appointments, and faith communities may be the only places where survivors or children can safely speak. Coordinate discreetly with those trusted contacts. Equip these informal networks with resources like the Ally Guide or the Choose to Change Toolkit.
Train for ethical proximity. Agencies should openly discuss how to manage dual relationships, confidentiality, and bias in small communities. Avoid assuming “informal awareness” is a substitute for structured case assessment. For example, child welfare, law enforcement, and others with statutory power should have explicit training on how to navigate being sent to the home of a family friend.
Document the impact on children. Capture how isolation, control over resources, or community pressure affects the child’s relationships, schooling, and sense of safety—not just incidents of physical harm.
Seeing Rural Families Clearly
What’s different isn’t the violence—it’s the visibility. Without deliberate, pattern-based documentation, the isolation built into rural life can easily extend to the professional’s understanding of what’s happening and play into the hands of the perpetrators.
When I think back to that farm family, I often wonder how many of their daily experiences never made it into case notes—not out of neglect, but because they blended into what “normal” looked like in their community. The chores, the quietness, the distance—it all seemed ordinary until I learned to see through the lens of pattern, impact, and accountability.
Rural families deserve the same nuanced understanding we apply in any setting. The Safe & Together Model challenges us to see proximity not as protection but as a factor to question—because sometimes being close enough to help also means being close enough to miss what matters most.
Additional Resources
Safe & Together Institute’s domestic abuse–informed trainings
Safe & Together Institute’s upcoming events
David Mandel’s book Stop Blaming Mothers and Ignoring Fathers: How to Transform the Way We Keep Children Safe from Domestic Violence
