Just gonna write. I've been MIA for a long time -- raising two little boys, working, living life. Too much to cover in some sort of weird little catch-up post. But I have things I need to process and things I need to write about, so I'm going to use this spot. I haven't ever been much for journaling, and besides -- at this point in digital life, my hand cramps from writing 3-5 sentences in a Valentine's card. So hand-writing is out.
But I can type. Lord knows I can type. Oftentimes with emotion, mostly fury and seething righteousness, but certainly with a speed that can (mostly) match the insanity in my head. So that's my vehicle. Microblogging over on Twitter (@strangeHeatherr), and longer processing over here. And I have virtually no followers, so this is really just for me to see what I'm thinking on "paper" and use that to order my brain a little bit better.
Right now, I'm just trying to make sense of several big church scandals (namely the Hillsong mess with Carl Lentz, and the RZIM mess with Ravi Zacharias). And there's no sense to be made. Truly. Too much power, too much assumption of being untouchable, too much human-worship, and you end up with lots of sin and corruption.
But more than that, I'm thinking about my own abuse for years at the hands of my pastor-father, and the complicated things that play in there. He was no media darling, but I still felt some of those same feelings described by the victims in these scandals and that victims of abuse (especially sexual abuse) feel, regardless of perpetrator.
"If I came forward, how many people would be hurt? Lose their faith?"
"What would I accomplish anyway? He's bigger and more powerful than I am."
"I would be wrecking my family."
"No one would forgive me."
"There's probably nobody else being abused."
And so you convince yourself not to say anything. Deal with it quietly. Try to avoid public confrontation (though there was no choice but to confront within my family unit, and we did). Because it doesn't go well for the accuser. Anyone else still remember Christine Blasey Ford's treatment during her (very believable) accusations? Did anyone actually see that as Brett Kavanaugh being on trial versus her being on trial? Which of them had to move, hire security, go underground? Which of them got rewarded with the top prize of their profession? It certainly didn't go the way of the accuser.
So we victims stay quiet. What's the point of bothering? In my case, the only thing that justified talking about those abuses, was to protect my sisters living with the same man. One sister had one devastating experience. The other was saved from actual experience, but was brought into the fold of the family skeletons at much too young an age (12), in order to allow her to fend for herself while the other sisters had left the toxic nest. My mother, also, had to come to her own reckoning of those things that had happened under her roof, on her watch. And she missed the signs. When confronted, she asked her 19-year-old daughter for marital advice. I refused to play that role. That question was one they would have to wrestle with. I'm guessing they didn't, or at least kept those conversations incredibly well-concealed.
So, I guess that's the answer. That's why people come forward -- to prevent more people from being abused, traumatized. To prevent bad behavior from escalating into really scary stuff. And to try and make their experiences mean something -- that someone else doesn't get hurt like they did. Blech.
No comments:
Post a Comment