I’m uncomfortable with the word ‘victim.’ For me, the word conjures up an air of helplessness and weakness – words I do not attach myself to easily. However, in the eyes of the law, I am indeed a victim. I was sexually abused as a child and now I am fortunate enough to be going through the judicial system in the hope that a formal verdict in a court of law will affirm my ultimate aim of being believed. I only say fortunate, as I know a lot of victims of non recent abuse don’t and never will, get as far as I have with the judicial system.
I don’t know what to expect from the court process other than being able to move forward one way or another…perhaps living a more peaceful life free from the chains of a vile human from my past, an extraordinarily long police investigation as well as a three and a half year wait for court with two false starts.
Along the way on this journey when I have needed a bit of a boost, I have intermittently sought people out with similar experiences to me that are telling their story, finding their voices. I’ve virtually met some amazing people and been able to reduce some of the isolation of my experience and feel inspired by the strength of others – men and women alike.
What I wasn’t prepared for, maybe naivety on my part, was the shocking and systematic hate there is towards victims, particularly female victims of sexual abuse. Reading the threads following inspirational sharing of personal circumstances and being met with the abhorrent, judgemental negativity spouted against the #metoo campaign for instance, only helps to reinforce why I stayed silent for so long.
Views lacking compassion and in no way acknowledging the perpetrator for being the causation of rape or sexual abuse is frighteningly common. Instead there are so many ‘should’s’ placed on the victim – that somehow they should have stopped it, not provoked it and spoken up straight away. Black and white thinking with no empathy. Fault being laid at the feet of the victim who has to explain the “whys.” Why did you not scream? Why did you not tell anyone? Why did you put yourself in that position if you knew what he/she was like?
So, in my attempts to seek hope and human connection with others in similar circumstances, I found myself feeling appalled by how people like me, were being written about in such a derogatory tone.
Here are some snippets of fairly common vile ramblings:
“You’re not a victim if you wait 15 years to say something”
“These women were too weak to speak up”
“Don’t wait until it’s a Twitter movement and add your name to the list so you can get publicity or attention”
“Men are just doing what men do”
“Well if you’re flaunting it in men’s faces…”
“They’re just after money all these years later”
“Too many women put themselves in dangerous situations”
“You should yell and tell”
“It’s not like she was raped”
“Just tell someone at the time not to touch your ass again”
“The time to stand up and speak out was when it was happening”
I could go on and on but you get the idea. Shaming someone in itself is manipulative, using controlling and coercive behaviour which will normally raise self doubt and fear in the receiver. Furthermore, victim shaming can still perpetuate negative behaviour in society – that somehow sexual abuse or harassment is okay in certain circumstances. It’s never okay. Ever.
When I was being sexually abused as a child, I believed I was protecting other close family members by staying quiet. I was preserving their feelings as “they wouldn’t understand.” This was the essence of how I was groomed. So I conformed. I found a way to cope by achieving a dissociative state when needed. Or, in my imagination, I was literally off with the fairies. Trying my best to stay in the imaginary garden with exquisite winged beings, warm sunshine on my skin, brightly coloured rainbows and surrounded by alluring beauty.
Every bit of time spent with friends and their families I used as a pleasant escape. On the outside appearing like a ‘normal’ child who loved music, making up dance routines, playing on my skateboard, making dens and having midnight feasts on sleepovers. I didn’t want to tell anyone about the bad stuff for fear of the good stuff ending.
I’m not so sure the bad stuff would have stopped even if I had told anyone. The fear of not being believed was too great a risk to take and I just wanted to enjoy the freedom of whenever I escaped. I spent most of my childhood in an adapted form of myself to suit the adults around me as that seemed the safest option. As the years went on and my abuser left our lives, I felt free…at least for a while. Whilst I knew what had happened to me was wrong, I also believed that there was something wrong with me – something I must have done to cause the abuse. That I was the only one.
I wasn’t the only one. But it would take more than 23 years to learn this.
I did nothing to attract my perpetrator. I made myself as ugly and plain as I could as a coping strategy. The truth is, what I looked like didn’t matter. It was all about control. I was vulnerable and opportunity surrounded me.
For keyboard warriors who victim blame, perhaps it’s hard to believe that “good people” like the neighbour down the road, the actor, the politician, the vicar, that nice dad at the school gate, the teacher, the person who relentlessly raises money for charity, has been accused of something so terribly heinous. Does it feel uncomfortable to believe something so bad of someone you like or perhaps idolised in person or from afar? I get it. Of course it doesn’t feel great.
I mean…Rolf Harris for goodness sake. A man who could draw the most amazing cartoons and caricatures whilst singing funny tunes and rhymes, making me reel up with laughter as a child. In my early 20s, he pulled on my heart strings when his love of animals was televised on Animal Hospital. I cried along with him as he held the paw of a dog who was being put to sleep by a vet. My initial thoughts when the news broke about him being arrested was “no way.” However, I know only too well that it’s possible for a person to be a child abuser and a charming manipulator who is also an upstanding member of the community.
As a society we are conditioned to believe that those who commit sex crimes still have to be and look a certain way – usually men with comb overs, a bit unkempt and socially inept. When the truth is, the potential for those to commit these crimes are in every town and neighbourhood hiding in plain sight. A scary thought.
Keyboard warriors who victim blame do so from the comfort of their own homes, trying to shoo the victim back into silence either by out and out maliciousness and ignorance or a more subtle conditioning that the victim must have contributed to the cause of the crime by their own actions or at the very least should have stopped the crime from happening in some way…a warped belief that the world is good and just and that bad things happen to people that must have done something to deserve or attract it. Perhaps that way it helps the belief that nothing bad will happen to that person as they wouldn’t be “so stupid” in the first place to be in that position, or if they were, they would scream, shout, scratch or kick the offender.
I can only speak for myself in the reasons why I felt I couldn’t tell anyone about the abuse but I would like to be one of the voices who now can turn a very difficult life changing experience into a positive for others who are seeking support, trying to be a tiny ripple in a massive ocean of unhelpful victim blamers.
So, to all keyboard warriors and people who find themselves victim blaming, I offer you empathy. I understand why it is so hard to believe, in the wave and furore of daily breaking news items, that there are so many people in the world who have committed sex crimes and more and more outpourings of pain and traumatic experiences from victims. These disclosures haven’t in any way peaked as the truth for many is only just starting to be uncovered. For too many, it never will.
The only way to reduce these crimes is if we all become more self aware and are able to show empathy to victims. To understand their journey and context around, what is often very sadly, minimal physical evidence of a crime being committed. To allow them a voice so that they are not swallowed up into an abyss of shame that helps no one as it means these crimes will carry on in our homes and in our communities. We all need to open our eyes to the horrid truth and place the blame firmly back in the laps of the perpetrators.
Next time you see or hear a victim share their story, notice your reactions. Let any judgemental thoughts pass and imagine what it would be like to be in that persons shoes…just for a moment. Be the empathy that is the antidote to a victims shame and eventually there will be hardly any way for those who commit sex crimes to hide in plain sight, or hide at all.
I live in hope ♥
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