I used to believe if I were loving enough, kind enough, and not-a-bad-person enough, that people wouldn’t treat me like shit. Well, I can’t even say I used to believe it; I struggle with changing this belief. This belief that I won’t be targeted if I’m good enough has been a big part of my survivor subjectivity. It’s a self-protective belief; nobody wants to think of themselves as accessible to bad or abusive treatment. I have had to ask myself, though, if this belief (and the way I function based on it) actually helps me. What do I get out of it? Am I actually ever protected from anything? Street harassment? A rude person in line at the grocery store? Gaslighting? Shit happens. Bad shit happens. Untenable shit happens, and plenty times it’s because our fellow humans are ill equipped to treat us and themselves well.
I have wrestled with this most recently due to the loss of an intimate relationship. After we dissolved the relationship, my former girlfriend told me that I was a gaslighter. I apologized and checked in: “I apologize for harming you. Please tell me what I’ve done, so I can address and change my behavior.” I never got a direct answer. I was told, “You have those tendencies, Lenée.” Again, I apologized and asked for specifics so I could rectify my behavior. I did not call names, shout, or declare her a liar. I wanted to do my best to resolve and account for my actions. I apologized for specific harm and identified ways to do and be better. I did everything that I could think of, so I didn’t perpetuate fucked up behavior towards someone I loved very much. She said I bullied her into making choices that she didn’t want and that I did not properly give emotional support or care when needed. I apologized, and offered her space and time away from me. She said she wanted to talk through things some more when she felt ready. Within 24 hours of this conversation, though, I felt that the healthiest thing was to terminate contact with one another — if I were gaslighting her, what interactions did we need to have? How could processing such a painful thing together be a good idea? It didn’t seem wise or healthy to stay in touch at the time. I told her what I thought. She agreed, and our separation entered its final stage.
Why am I sharing all this? Because I did not believe I did anything wrong. I did everything “right.” I used the anatomy of an apology as my roadmap. I employed methods of abuser/ primary aggressor accountability. I was reflective and I searched myself for evidence that I was out of integrity with who I say I am/ said I was. I respected that my ex wasn’t required to explain shit to me, even if she’d wanted to discuss things in depth. I did everything in line with every self-care/ self-recovery resource I had, from bell hooks’ Sisters of the Yam to consentculture.com and Self-Care Haven. I went through my therapy notes and journals. I asked my old therapist if I had ever displayed any patterns of abuse/ primary aggression or gaslighting. You know what I found? That, not unlike other survivors of sexual violence and childhood sexual abuse, I have consistently struggled with letting other people take up all the space in a relationship, specifically when they speak to being hurt by me. I’ve lain down, silenced myself, made myself tiny and ‘good’ so they wouldn’t have anything resembling a reason to be mad or lash out at me. The dynamic between the two of us had shifted. I was super uncomfortable, for reasons that didn’t have a lot to do with the actual situation at hand. I had some analyzing to do, to ensure that I engaged the feelings that corresponded to what was happening. I also needed to look at what happened, and when and how.
It seemed to me that, as soon as I spoke candidly about the dissolution of our courtship, my ex had a lot to say about my behavior. Behavior that had more or less been the same throughout the relationship. Behavior that seemed to endear me to them, up to this point. I think of this as warehousing: your bad behaviors, the other person’s hurt feelings, that time you did something fucked up, et cetera are placed in a warehouse on a shelf. When the other person (I call them the warehouser) feels it’s time for you to be called to the carpet, they start emptying out the warehouse. Things from ten hours ago, ten days ago, or ten years ago may be brought up. These are usually issues and concerns that were not discussed in full, or brushed off altogether by the warehouser when they happened. On the receiving end, you are shocked, caught off guard, embarrassed, and looking for a way to fix it immediately. The problem with this: there’s often so much distance between the offenses themselves and the moment in which they are addressed that you may not fully recall what happened. This puts the warehouser at an advantage; if they’re looking to fuck with your head or punish you, you’re pretty likely to go along with it. You’re still reeling from the revelation that you are A Terrible Human Being. If the warehouser is into overwriting your memory or reality, then there’s not a lot you can do to “win” the argument. You’ll be A Terrible Human Being, no matter what you say, do, or have receipts for. That’s just how it goes. So, as a response to that, you may make yourself smaller. You may wish to seem innocuous, because non-threatening people don’t present any kind of danger to others. The non-threatening person is always the innocent bystander. Innocent, meaning good, meaning without fault in the situation. Good enough. The “right” kind of victim, because the “right” kind of victim gets the support and services they need, don’t they?
Which brings me back to my original point: being a good enough, kind enough, small enough, not-a-bad-person-enough type of human being won’t save me from folks who are determined to treat me poorly, whatever their reasoning. If it’s true of respectability politics, then why can’t it be true of people who aren’t good or even decent to us? Being good, small and non-threatening, or respectful doesn’t stop someone who wants to treat you like shit or kill you. Being “good” (read: college educated and waiting to begin gainful employment) didn’t save Sandra Bland, being a seven-year-old child didn’t save Aiyana Jones, being an elderly woman didn’t save Eleanor Bumpurs, and so on. Because we live in a world where abuse is normalized and sometimes celebrated, and boundaries don’t tend to mean shit unless the person with power creates them, it’s safe to say we cannot live without someone somewhere treating us badly. I know, it sucks. I know, it hurts and brings up old hurt, and will continue to hurt. There’s something I’ve found that’s kind of liberating about all this, though: changing my beliefs about being “enough.”
No matter how “respectable” I am, every person I encounter is not going to treat me well. Regardless of what I do (or don’t do) to help or support a person, they may decide that my support isn’t right for them, for whatever reasons. That’s their shit. I can flatten myself all I want; if they’re coming after me, they’re coming. Ain’t shit I can do to change that. There will be people who don’t like direct conversations, people who are reality averse, and all that. Well . . . that’s their choice to be. I can’t force anyone’s hand, nor can I magically woo them into “acting right.” None of us can, really. Folks shift their behaviors, opinions, etc. at their own pace and for their own reasons. Waiting for change isn’t necessarily going to get anyone what they need, either. I am learning the importance of being satisfied with whatever actions I take, as long as I have been thorough and intentional in my process. It doesn’t make me “right” or allow me to occupy some moral high ground. It just… is.
