This is a post in response to something I wrote yesterday, "The Bitch is Back (and that, apparently, is me)." If you did not read that post, you might want to (click here) as it provides the context for what follows.
First, I appreciate your comments on the blog and through email. I know that I didn't need any validation from the "incident" yesterday, but you have given me that anyway and I appreciate it. It's good to know that I'm not alone in the experiencing what I experienced. Thank you.
What I didn't elaborate on specifically in the original post below is that the rude "the-rules-don't-apply-to-me" behavior happens ALL THE TIME in this particular area. All the time. All.The.Time. I had spent that particular day working pretty hard at being "nice" to others, ignoring their lack of awareness (of other people) . . . or at least striving to get along with them, around them. Most people did the same. Most people, but not all people. By the time I had the altercation with the rude woman, I was fed up with that rude/self-absorbed behavior. I work hard at trying to be civil . . . I have my moments when civility takes a brief vacation . . . , but I do try. :-)
However, after getting into my car from the altercation with the husband, I started to cry. These were not just tears of anger or fear . . . but deep sobs. My spirit felt bruised and battered. Battered. Even today, when I retold this story to my sister, I started to cry. This blog is not the time or place to explain my past, but the past was absolutely present in that encounter. In retrospect, I felt ignored, unseen, and devalued by the experience ... the experience with the woman, to be sure, but more significantly, the experience with her husband.
I don't need some man to step in a defend me through this life -- I'm perfectly capable taking care of myself -- but I wondered driving home that afternoon what it was about me that said to that husband that could treat me as he did (under the guise of defending his wife). I was reminded of all those years and all those experiences we, as women (typically) have to endure (just take a look at the Sexism video posted below, if you are unsure what I mean by what women have to endure sometimes). We apologize to keep the man happy, to keep the peace, to avoid confrontation, to not bruise his ego, to perpetuate the myth that everything is OK. I did that yesterday. I apologize to just make him leave me alone. I was angry with myself for apologizing to him. I betrayed myself by apologizing. I knew it when I did it. Yet, I didn't want to be in a confrontation with a strange man in the middle of a parking lot over something relatively inane.
While I don't need a defender, I drove home wondering what was wrong with me that there was no one there supporting me. I walked away from that encounter feeling even more invisible, even more vulnerable, and even more alone.
But this my friends is what the survivorship of abuse looks like. For those of you dear readers who have been in an abusive marriage, or in a workplace with an abusive boss, or in an abusive familial situation, you know the truth I state here: we pretend the abuse doesn't happen, that it didn't happen. We take on the responsibility when we are not responsible. We know that others will blame us for the problems . . . because they always do, we assume (because that's what we've been told). We apologize for being hurt, for being abused. We wonder, "what's the use in fighting?"
Elle has a great post up today about "Open Secrets" and how families deal with them. Read it. It's that good.
This subject has gotten off subject. I'm ready to move on to another subject, but I'm reminded of what the husband said to me, "you have no way of knowing what she's going through." Yes, he was right. I didn't know. But you know what? He had no idea what I had been through.
