My Soapbox Brings All The Boys To The Yard

I’ve been on a bit of a Twitter rant lately regarding the abuse-cycle and the marginalization of survivors.

This happens from time to time. I hit a limit with “keep the peace, be a gentleman, don’t rock the boat” reactions to attempts at an open dialogue – they are forms of silencing-as-punishment that work to perpetuate the abuse itself. I am exhausted and enraged by the backlash that breaking the silence equates to causing drama; breaking the silence is imperative to validating a survivor’s experience. All survivors deserve to be heard/seen/believed. All survivors deserve to heal. All survivors. This includes men. We don’t like to think about that, we see survivors as women, but men are abused too. Women can be abusers.  We should make room for all survivors.

Everyone deserves healthy/happy/non-hitting relationships. Everyone is worthy of that. No survivor should ever be punished for standing up and saying “No! This is not going to happen anymore!”. Bullying that person for lacking compassion for their abuser is part of the toxic cycle. Reprimanding the survivor with “but they [abuser] can be so kind, you can’t paint such an ugly picture! How can you be so heartless?”

Of course they can be kind! Kindness is key to the cycle. Abusers lavish affection and gifts, they work to control and manipulate, they explode, they are filled with remorse and apologies, and the cycle starts again. Here is an important lesson in life: being capable of kindness is not the same as being genuinely kind. Kindness is not kindness where is it used to facilitate control. Likewise, love is not love where it seeks to fulfill only its own desires. Draining one self worth to bolster another is not love, it is abuse.

When someone hits you, or verbally attacks you, because you “deserve it”, please do not believe them. Conflicts are solved with respectful conversation and open vulnerability from both parties, not fists, not derailing and belittling. Gaslighting is not a sign of affection or open communication.

When you hit someone, or beat them down verbally, to punish them for not doing what you wanted you are stepping into the role of an abuser. No amount of personal trauma excuses the choice to become an abuser. You are accountable for your actions. You are responsible for working your own healing. You can change. You have to change. Or the cycle continues, and you become responsible for that.

I am saddened to see the toxic cycle perpetuate itself beyond the individual relationship and be reinforced by the circle of people who call themselves friends.

I am disappointed that more people don’t see abuse clearly, and instead allow themselves to become an extra hand of the abuser.

I am vocal because it is important to speak out. I stand on my soapbox because my voice is strong enough to raise above the din for people who have not yet found the strength in their own voices. I don’t claim to speak for them, I speak so a safe place can be created, so that it becomes acceptable to speak. I will not be party to a system that victim blames and guilts survivors into thinking they deserve(d) to be treated without respect.

I am filled with compassion for broken people, but “I hurt because I am hurting” is not carte blanche to hurt others. And every person who perpetuates that abuse, who buys into the manipulation and punishes the person breaking free and grasping for something healthy, is equally accountable.

Abuse only stops when we all break the cycle.

 

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Jellies!

Jellies! by Keller Holmes
Jellies!, a photo by Keller Holmes on Flickr.

We spent the day at the Monterey Bay Aquarium, because the Monterey Bay Aquarium is amazing in general, and because they had a special jelly fish exhibit.

Side note: Jelly fish make me bounce with glee.

Needless to say, the day was magical.

I believe I said the following more times than I can count:

“Honey! Look at that!”

*Gasp* “There’s a giant sea turtle!”

“Joe! Look at those jellies!”
(This one made Joe respond with “wiggle wiggle wiggle wiggle”, a now highly repetitive and endlessly entertaining joke we share with two of our cherished friends.)

I stood in a forest of kelp and felt the ocean breathe. I stood within a few feet of sharks, and sea turtles, and otters, and fish. I watched in silent awe and wonder as jellies all the colors of the rainbow undulated before my eyes. And I felt at home.

I want to live underwater. How do I get gills?

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The Things I Learned from Surgery

There is a lot less time to freak out about surgery when the date is changed to 3 hours from right now!

IVs sting. And itch. And leave green bruises on the back of your hand.

Tiny incisions through your abdominal wall still hurt like holy-mother-of-god, and you need to take the opiates! (After 3 days, opiates make my skin itch! So I also learned I am strong enough to survive on high doses of Ibuprofen.)

You will over share while on painkillers, but don’t worry, it will only make you and your friends closer. (If you’re really lucky, you may even get other people to over share and blame it on your painkillers. This is really win-win for everyone.)

You will be humbled by the love and support of your friends who go out of their way to take good care of you and you will adore them all a little bit more than before (and next time you’ll just ask to hang out, instead of orchestrating minimally invasive procedures).

A week after surgery will have you making ridiculous comparisons like:

Joe: Are you feeling better?
Me: Yes! I feel like I’ve been pummeled by fists instead of trampled by horses.
Joe: That’s great!
Me: I know!

And:

Me: It’s like all the poop I couldn’t poop is now trying to make up for lost time!
Joe: That’s probably what was making your lower back so sore.
Me: Spinal Poopingitis!

Painkiller induced naps are essential to recovery, even after you’ve gone back to work.

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