People want credit just for showing up. They want credit for being sympathetic and what they determine is helpful. They want to be showered with praise and award for taking two lazy seconds out of their day to give half-assed advice about something they do not understand, with someone they have not spoken to for more than two seconds.
Never question the abuse of the well-intentioned.
And once they have privileged you with their attention, you cannot speak up about how they were actually hurtful. They recommended that I see a therapist, because they sympathetically recognized I was hurting (as though I’m a witless child who cannot see it myself).
And don’t you dare tell them about the realities of unequal outcomes and social privilege. Oh no no no no! That makes me once of those filthy “SJWs” or trolls. Don’t you dare tell them that good therapy takes money out of pocket, and is inaccessible to many. Don’t you dare tell them that therapists are predominately heterosexual cisgendered white women from middle class and up backgrounds, who often lack the lived experience of oppression and discrimination against their identity that is needed to understand those suffering from it.
Don’t ask them to educate themselves about impact vs. intent and how you may mean well, but may actually commit unconscious aggression upon someone. Don’t tell them that telling me to see a professional and be emotionally invalidating, because you’re telling me that I am broken and need to be fixed. If you say that, then prepare to be lectured and scolded and blamed for “not trying hard enough” or “having the wrong attitude” or “being too sensitive” or “meditate instead.”
Don’t send them resources that show how bad therapy can be a form of secondary trauma and can exacerbate existing trauma. Don’t tell them that therapists can be invalidating and gaslighting and victim-blaming. Don’t tell them that you have that lived experience. Therapists are all perfect, so that means I’m remembering my experiences wrong, or I interpreted them wrong. They were right and I am wrong.
Don’t tell them that you’re scared to walk into a room like that again. I just need to “work up to.” Don’t tell them your experiences. Don’t tell them how you feel. Don’t you dare invalidate them! They were trying to be helpful, don’t you understand?!!?!
So I stay quiet, as I should. Do what I’m told. I’ll be a good little human being. I won’t make a fuss. I’ll thank someone for their helpful intentions and advice. And I’ll pretend I’m not dying inside. I’ll pretend to be fine with the ridicule. I’ll internalize the pain. I’ll learn to enjoy the slings and arrows, the sticks and stones, all of the broken bones. And when a punch to my feels like a kiss on the cheek, I’ll know that I’ve finally become what I was supposed to be. And never again will I dare to question what anyone else says or thinks.
2 comments
I relate to this so much. some girl even tried to tell me that I wasn’t suicidal and spent (I am not kidding) an hour talking about how much worse she had it. and if one more person tells me to try therapy I will actually punch them.
That’s definitely another issue I could rant about. Either it’s the lazy people, who want credit for showing token sympathy. Or it’s the “I’m more oppressed than you actually” types that have to invalidate other lived experiences of hardship so they can feel oppressed.
You know what oppression really is? You have no voice and no choice. If you try to speak your truth, you’re shut down and told how wrong you are. Or worse, you’re punished for saying even the slightest thing.
If anything, she was committing that sort of oppression against you by trying to silence your emotions and interpretations of your experience in favor of hers.