Jane Eaton Hamilton

"At the bottom of the box is hope." – Ellis Avery.

Tag: same-sex

Blaming victims for domestic violence: how psychology taught us to be helpless

I’ve been battered and raped. For those of you interested in preventing violence, here is an important article:

Blaming Victims

And, from Judith Lewis Herman in her book TRAUMA AND RECOVERY:

“It is very tempting to take the side of the perpetrator. All the perpetrator asks is that the bystander do nothing. He appeals to the universal desire to see, hear, and speak no evil. The victim, on the contrary, asks the bystander to share the burden of pain. The victim demands action, engagement, and remembering …

“In order to escape accountability for his crimes, the perpetrator does everything in his power to promote forgetting. Secrecy and silence are the perpetrator’s first line of defense. If secrecy fails, the perpetrator attacks the credibility of his victim. If he cannot silence her absolutely, he tries to make sure that no one listens. To this end, he marshals an impressive array of arguments, from the most blatant denial to the most sophisticated and elegant rationalization. After every atrocity one can expect to hear the same predictable apologies: it never happened; the victim lies; the victim exaggerates; the victim brought it upon herself; and in any case it is time to forget the past and move on. The more powerful the perpetrator, the greater is his prerogative to name and define reality, and the more completely his arguments prevail.”

Full Grown Batterers

JEHnudeD

Jane Eaton Hamilton sketch 2014

Of all the topics I’ve had at my fingertips, perhaps none has been as difficult for me to write personally about as being battered over 18 years.  I remain highly embarrassed that I went through this; I ought to hand in my feminist credentials and have them retroactively scrubbed.  I ought to hand in my lezzie activisit credentials while I’m at it.

Yes, I’m a feminist.  Yes, I’m an activist.  Yes, I was battered.  Yes, I stayed.

Yes, I accepted a certain base-line of violence into my marriage and would have gone on staying the rest of my life.  That’s the dumb truth of it.  I adored her; I would have stayed with her forever.

Never Say I Didn’t Bring You Flowers

 

 

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