Breaking taboos: Empowering the vulnerable

Sit down where your kind is not allowed to sit. Demand a seat at the table when the discussion is about you. Take up space. Talk about sex. Talk about race. Talk about bodies. Talk about disability. Love whomever you love and say it loud and proud. Talk about rape. Mention sexual abuse. Talk about real history. Take a knee even though it makes someone uncomfortable. Call out the euphemisms, like “collateral damage,” that cover cruelty with a nice or confusing glaze.

Each of these actions represented at one time a shocking shattering of a taboo. Each of these actions was undertaken by people whose personal empowerment had been suppressed. The thing they have most in common is that disempowered people took the one thing they could do and used it “unfairly” against their oppressors.

Creative Commons image by Paul Wicks

Disempowered people “took advantage.” They found that one thing where they had an advantage—breaking a silence, being physically inconvenient, being visible on national TV—and they damn well used it. In each case, they were told that was a line too far, that good people support their struggle BUT “This kind of shocking action just drives people away,” or “It does more harm than good.”

And thank the gods someone eventually didn’t listen and took their personal power up and used it anyway. Breaking taboos like those has been a key part in the ongoing process of saving the soul of humanity.

Last moon’s post turned out to be one of my most controversial ever, because I did just that. I broke a taboo. It was uncomfortable, and I felt the resistance of the taboo while I was writing. But I had found myself in a small walled pit in my life, a dark place with only one way out. I took the one thing I could still do, the one place where I am not disempowered—this blog—and I used it to break a silence that had gone on too long.

That taboo is against speaking out about private psychological abuse within families. Several of my most supportive readers were shocked and expressed disappointment that I had taken that step. No one showed that they fully believe me, except those members of my family who have witnessed the abuse and who are still fighting so hard just to survive this crisis that they aren’t reading blogs right now.

I’ll admit it stung. I wasn’t expecting much of a response. People don’t leave a lot of comments on personal blogs, mine or anyone else’s. And I’ve had negative responses before. I’d be a pretty bland writer if I hadn’t. But the fact that that was the one post that disappointed and even offended some people shakes my belief in the moral arc of the universe somewhat.

Really?? Keeping silent about private family matters is that important? Even when it’s been going on for ten years and the person being abused has been directed to keep silence about it? Even when every descrete method has been tried? Even when “just leave” truly isn’t a physically possible option? Even when it’s hurting kids?

I didn’t mention names, though anyone very close with my family probably knows who I was talking about. That’s because most people close to my family have either witnessed a sample or two of the insults and verbal attacks I’ve been receiving for more than a decade, seen my responses or felt the tension.

I’m sorry we all have to live in a world with this sort of thing in it, but it is not my job to keep silence about it. I did for many years at the request of family members I love and respect. Part of that request was a promise that the situation would be handled, that my children and I would be protected. It wasn’t handled, and my eleven-year-old and I have taken the brunt of the results.

Now we are just beginning to deal with this long-term psychological abuse pattern realistically as a family because others saw the devastating effects on a child and how it could have physical and health consequences. Because we’re now handling it, I will probably not continue to talk about it publicly. But I decided to write this second post, because the taboo of silence is so disturbing.

Writing about it was something I did because it was my only point of empowerment. Otherwise, I am disadvantaged in the situation in every way. I’m a disabled woman. My voice when I speak is often considered “shrill” and thus discredited because I’m a woman, while a man can raise his deeper voice with less consequence. I was traditionally dismissed in my family because I showed emotion, rather than keeping a cool exterior. I can’t drive, so it is much harder for me to just leave a situation and impossible for me to dramatically stomp out and win by absense. My kids have developmental/neurological disabilities that make caring for them and protecting them complicated.

I had a lot of strikes against me. But I had one thing where I am strong—writing.

And I used it when I was pushed to the limit and my kids were significantly affected. Using it in this case required breaking a taboo and that has made some of my readers uncomfortable.

Had I been able to just take my kids and drive away from verbal attacks, had I been able to raise my voice and talk over others like a man, had I been able to buy and pay for attractions to keep my kids away from the conflict and abuse… in short, if I’d had a lot of the advantages the person attacking me has used against me, I doubt anyone would complain.

But I don’t have either the ability to drive, a man’s privilege or much money. I have the gift of writing and a blog I’ve built up over many years as a way to be heard. So that’s what I used when in a moment of desperation and need.

I hope this explanation helps some who felt the understandable tension around this taboo breaking. I certainly meant no disrespect of you, my readers. I am very thankful for your presence and for those who read, when you have the time and energy. It means a great deal and helps to combat the isolation of this day and age.

I do hope you will stay with me. If I lost a few on that last post, they probably weren’t looking for my kind of writing. Many of you have written to me over the years, saying that you love my posts and my writing because of how “real” I keep things, how I look at deep issues both in my life and in the world. I hear you and this is part of “keeping it real.”

I talk about injustice when it’s there, but I generally avoid pointing fingers. In fact, the blog I’ve been trying to publish for the past two months, the one that was supposed to be out last month but is instead accompanying this post is about the importance of curbing our urges toward hate speech against an entire nationality, no matter how extreme the circumstances. That’s why a lot of you read my posts, for the realist, yet non-judgmental take on things.

I appreciate that and the principles are still applicable when something is personal. But individuals are truly individuals and their actions have consequences. Avoiding stereotypes about an entire group is very different from avoiding criticism of an individual. Putin… yeah, have at him, as far as I’m concerned. The same goes for individuals closer to home, who have demonstratively used power and privilege to hurt or demean others.

Yes, sometimes there are two sides to a story, but part of being real is being able to own one’s own part in conflict. I have and I do. I’ve been in regular arguments. I’ve even yelled insults at someone in a moment of intense anger. I wish I didn’t and I apologized, even if I still think they deserved it. But a sustained campaign of verbal and psychological abuse over years is not the same as arguments or heated moments.

And just because writing empowers me, that doesn’t mean I have absolute power here because of it. Readers are free to dismiss, criticize or just plain not believe what I write. But it is probably no accident that writing about private family psychological abuse is something patriarchal society tells us is wrong and “too far.” Writing things like this corrodes the patriarchy.