Internalised Victim Blaming
One day last week, my husband got home and asked me how my day was. Ordinarily, it’s an innocuous question. This day, it was loaded. We had just posted something big on the blog. Something I had been carrying around for years, and he for decades: his story of surviving gay conversion therapy (what others might call ‘sexual orientation change efforts’ or the ‘LGBTQA+ conversion movement), which of course involved him coming out as bisexual. That kind of thing can make you feel a little vulnerable. Brene Brown tells me that vulnerability is courage though, so I was mentally feeling like a badass, while emotionally feeling a little…meh.
I rambled, as I tend to do when I’m feeling overwhelmed. As I rambled, I explained my fears that people would make it about them when it wasn’t, or that it would be seen as an attack on churches when it isn’t…that it was, in fact, a call for churches in general to wake up to damage that may be invisible to them and to become safe places for LGBTQA+ people. But I was scared that it would be taken the wrong way, and I was pre-empting the responses. Then my husband said something that made me sit up and listen.
He said, “Babe, that sounds like internalised victim blaming.”
Yowza. He didn’t tell me what to do about it. He just let me sit with it. And sit with it I have.
I wanted to take a moment on this blog to pass on that little lightbulb moment. Victim blaming happens. We see it all over the news in all sorts of horrendous situations. It happens when people try to cover up institutional abuse. It happens when judges take the side of a neat, tidy, middle class perp and offer un-earned leniency or when people say the victim was asking for it. It happens in all sorts of places. It’s wrong on all counts.
But it also happens inside us. We blame ourselves. When someone has been the victim of any type of abuse, be it psychological, spiritual, physical, or sexual, it might be hard to realise that we are internalising the victim blaming – that we are blaming ourselves for things others might say or think, or pre-empting how they’ll react. I’m inviting you to notice it. In particular, I’m inviting survivors of religious abuse to take a moment to do so. Because noticing matters. It can be so healing.
Over the year that I’ve been writing this blog, it has gathered together a unique readership: we come from all over the world. We are mostly Millennials and Gen X’ers. We have been raised in and around churches, but have found ourselves at odds with doctrines or power structures that we weren’t allowed to question, or that crushed our spirits. Many of us are spiritually curious. We are Christians in and out of church, many of us are agnostics who have been burned by church, or atheists who have walked away from their childhood faith. So many of us are closet progressives who are wondering if we can be called “Christian” and still sit to the left of Judo-Christian conservatism.
I like you. You are my people. I blog for you. And me, but I’m one of you so there’s that.
A lot of us, sadly, have left groups that were toxic to us. I have a feeling a lot of us have suffered some type of religious abuse. So here are some things you need to know [1]:
Religious abuse is real. It can involve psychological manipulation or various types of harm inflicted on a person through the teachings of their religion.
It is often perpetrated by people in positions of power within the religion, but I’d argue that it can include lateral violence (whereby the abuse becomes part of the culture of a group or religion and is then inflicted by peers as well).
Wikipedia, the font of all wisdom as we know, says “It is most often directed at children and emotionally vulnerable adults, and motivations behind such abuse vary, but can be either well-intentioned or malicious.”
It’s confusing as heck, because sometimes it is well-intentioned and is interwoven with empowering moments or talk of a benevolent, loving God. A lot of us have heard church referred to as a “Family.” That can be so promising but so traumatic at the same time. All of this amounts to what can be well-intentioned and damaging at the same time.
Regardless of the intent, the effects are real. Long term damage may include “the victim developing phobias or long-term depression. They may have a sense of shame that persists even after they leave the religion. A person can also be manipulated into avoiding a beneficial action (such as a medical treatment) or to engage in a harmful behavior.” Depression, anxiety, PTSD and dissociative disorders are among the other mental health issues that may arise from religious abuse. So it is serious. It shouldn’t be fobbed off.
It’s not that uncommon. You might be surprised how many people relate to it. A recent study took a sample from a College campus in the States and found 12.5% of participants had experienced religious abuse.
An expert in the topic, Ronald Enroth, wrote a book called “Churches that abuse”. In it, he proposed 5 categories of abuse (Thanks wiki *again.* for the summary [1].)
“Authority and Power: abuse arises when leaders of a group arrogate to themselves power and authority that lacks the dynamics of open accountability and the capacity to question or challenge decisions made by leaders. The shift entails moving from general respect for an office bearer to one where members loyally submit without any right to dissent.
Manipulation and Control: abusive groups are characterized by social dynamics where fear, guilt or threats are routinely used to produce unquestioning obedience, group conformity or stringent tests of loyalty. The leader-disciple relationship may become one in which the leader’s decisions control and usurp the disciple’s right or capacity to make choices.
Elitism and Persecution: abusive groups depict themselves as unique and have a strong organizational tendency to be separate from other bodies and institutions. The social dynamism of the group involves being independent or separate, with diminishing possibilities for internal correction or reflection, whilst outside criticism.
Life-style and Experience: abusive groups foster rigidity in behavior and belief that requires conformity to the group’s ideals.
Dissent and Discipline: abusive groups tend to suppress any kind of internal challenge to decisions made by leaders. (end wiki quote)
You can imagine that all sorts of ploys would be needed to maintain that sort of control. The book is excellent. Read it if you need to. But consider the ways in which mind games, gaslighting and manipulative control methods would be needed to create such an environment (Even if it started out, or is still to some degree (of cognitive dissonance, I’d argue) well-intentioned).
Research has shown the people who depart from such groups often show symptoms associated with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. In fact, complex PTSD is one of the points laid out in something called “Religious Trauma Syndrome [2] Mensline Australia has published a list of things to watch out for in terms of religious trauma [3]. Some of these cut pretty close to home, so I’ll leave it to you to jump over to that page if you feel the need. But why am I talking about this in an article about internalised victim blaming. Well for one thing, we need to understand the harm is real. For another thing, this:
Someone raised a point to me a few months back that really made me think: he said “people who have been gaslit (made to question their own mind) in abusive situations are often chronic over-explainers.”
Again. Yowza. When my husband mentioned the term “internalised victim blaming” it connected for me, instantly. When you’ve been made to question your own mind, you over-explain because you need to be believed. When other people have blamed you or made you question your own nature or worthiness, you can blame yourself too. Long after their voices are absent from your life, you still hear them. As long as this goes unchecked, the damage can continue. And you deserve better than that. We all do.
I lay all these things out for a few reasons: Firstly, I want you to know that you aren’t alone. Secondly, I want you to know that internalised victim blaming isn’t uncommon. But thirdly, that doesn’t mean what happened to you was your fault. And it doesn’t mean you have to continue to listen the voices that blame you. Even if those voices are from your own mind, or echoes from memories you’d much rather forget.
I’m a strong believer in therapy. I’m a strong believer that the company of positive people, intentionally chosen to support and empower you, is therapeutic. I’m a strong believer that meta-cognition, or the act of noticing your own thoughts, can help free you from the prison built by trauma.
I didn’t know that internalised victim blaming existed until this week. Or perhaps I did, I just hadn’t given it words. I didn’t know that victims of gaslighting were often chronic over-explainers until recently. I’ve noticed now. So if this is you, too, then I want you to know that you don’t have to blame yourself or explain yourself to anyone. I want you to notice that internalised victim blaming can sometimes mean feeling the pressure of what you are sure people are thinking even when it isn’t said to you. Hey – no one can read minds.
You don’t have to blame yourself or be responsible for what others think about you.
You don’t have to avoid God just because church was traumatic.
Not all churches are traumatic but that doesn’t meant you have to step inside if you just can’t bring yourself to.
If you can’t be a Christian inside church at the moment, then you can be a friend of mind and we can follow Jesus together, and grapple with the big questions, and get into the philosophical and hermeneutical mess of life knowing God’s shoulders are big enough to carry it if we stuff it up.
I just don’t think God would be nearly as hard on us as we are on ourselves sometimes. The irony in fearing hell is that sometimes you can live it anyway. I hope that, in noticing with me that internalised victim blaming and chronic over-explaining is a thing, we can release ourselves from that kind of hell.
Hey people – take care of yourself this Christmas. I’m aware this can be a triggering time of year for some. Make sure you check in with yourself and exercise some self-care if you need.
Peace!
Kit K
R U O K? Some Thoughts
TRIGGER WARNING: This post deals with mental illness and suicide. I’m being kind. I’m advocating care and not just awareness, but if you are feeling fragile – then the place to be is calling your local hospital or GP and getting in fast. If you can’t fathom doing that, then call a friend, demand they drop everything and come over to make you herbal tea until you can fathom it. If you ARE okay – read on.
Cruelly, ironically, today is “R U OK?” day. This week, I’ve read that a minister and mental health advocate died by suicide the day he buried a Christian woman who died by suicide. The news headlines in Australia are still covering the death of Danny Frawley, a football personality who had been open about his mental health struggles before dying tragically in a single-car collision this week. The first thing I did when I woke this morning, after wrangling two moody toddlers out of their dirty nappies, was check in on a dear friend who is going through a hard time. I can’t tell you the profound relief I felt when they sent me a snapchat that clearly depicted chairs in a doctors waiting room.
I’m all for awareness. But I hate it too. Because too often it stops at awareness not action. We all know about breast cancer. How many of us know how to do a breast check, or what the signs are when something is abnormal? We all know about prostate cancer and Movember that raises money and awareness for men’s health issues like depression and that very cancer. But how many men skip that part of the check-up because it’s awkward to ask a doc to, well, you know. R U OK? Day is a great initiative that encourages people to notice any changes and ask “R U OK?” but my big heart-break is this: How many of us actually went to the website and got any tips on what to do if someone wasn’t okay? How many of us are prepared if the answer is “No.”?
People with depression, anxiety, and other mental illnesses do need our support. They do need us to be aware. But they also need us to know what to do. Bowling up to them in the lunchroom and asking “Are you okay?” because its the day for it isn’t the response they need.
Here is what they do need:
Go to the website first. The R U OK website shows what to look for that might prompt you to ask if someone is okay. It notes things like any changes in routine, changes in mood stability, sleep patterns, concentration, engagement with activities they love, and things like work relational or financial stress. There’s more. Go to the website and have a look. Once you know what to look for, its a little easier to spot when something is going wrong for someone. Mind you, sometimes we don’t spot it. That’s why it matters to keep checking in on your loved ones all year round. Not just today.
Listen and take time to hear whats going on, but don’t rush to chime in with advice. Pro-tip: Do not, I repeat DO NOT, send someone motivational memes if you think they are at risk. That is not likely to help the situation. Do something practical instead – something that makes them feel safe, cared for, and like they are not alone. It might be dropping around with coffee and a chat. It might be making dinner, dropping it over and hanging around to ask if everything is okay. If they start to open up, don’t rush in with your advice. This is a time to hear what is going on, empathize, and help them consider getting professional help. Because let me tell you, from someone who knows, advice like “Oh you just need to…” or “This meme always helps me” has (in the past) just made me want to rage-cry or swing punches. Imagine feeling like you are a 90 on the subjective units of distress scale and someone hits you with that. I know you mean well. But if someone is in real mental health distress and you aren’t a professional, then leave the advice to them. Your job is to love, listen, bring calm, and get help.
Know the phone numbers for your local mental health triage service (usually a hospital near you). If you don’t know that, then phoning the persons GP and saying “I need an emergency mental health assessment for X” will get you in the door ASAP. If it doesn’t, insist. If it still doesn’t, just go to the emergency room. Don’t take no for an answer if you believe a person to be at risk. If you can’t get someone to get in the car and go, then Beyond Blue has a hotline you can call to get immediate assistance. (If you are in another country, you might have to find out what your local mental health support hotline are. They are there, and they are usually free.
Don’t just listen and run. You might need to be the one who gets the ball rolling and gets this person physically in the door with the help they need. You might need to alert next of kin, or arrange a group of supportive friends to continue to love and care for this person until they are back on sure footing. If they are in crisis, then nothing is simple for them. Call their mother, or best friend, or doctor, or whoever they would normally call. Do it for them if that is what they need.
Never treat mental illness as a weakness or as something that’s “in their head.” Its a life-threatening illness in many cases. So treat it seriously, with care, empathy, dignity and respect.
If you are Australian, I’d strongly recommend doing a Mental Health First Aid course. I did this one a few years ago and it is wonderful. Highly recommend.
Don’t assume that your Christian friends, or your strong friends, or your funny friends are not going to struggle. If you notice any of the warning signs (listed on the R U OK website I linked above) then check-in with them. Adhering to faith doesn’t protect you from mental illness. It can just cover up deep feelings of darkness without ever addressing them. Worse still, it can make someone feel shame for suffering a mental illness. It shouldn’t. It absolutely shouldn’t. Strength of personality can often mean that a person doesn’t know how to reach out because they perceive that they are the strong ones everyone else turns to. Humour can deflect away from dark thoughts.
Hey – I’m a funny, strong, Christian woman. I’ve felt all of these things. It is a double-edged sword, let me tell you. So if you are reading this and you are okay, check on your people.
If you are reading this and you are not okay, call your people. If I am one of your people, call me. Even if we have already spoken today. You aren’t a pest. You are valuable. You aren’t weak. You aren’t faulty. You aren’t hopeless (even if it feels like it right now). Let the right people get you through this thing. Call your doctor and your best friend in whichever order you need to.
Peace (which is always a throw-away sign off but today I mean it)
Kit K
Finding Kindred When You’ve Lost Community
It’s hard to make friends when you are a grown-up. One of the blessings of childhood seems to be that friends are a touch easier to come by. You meet them at school, at sporting matches, parks, parties, jobs. But as we age, we seem to bunker down into the world of routine. We meet people through work, then fail to keep in touch with the majority of them (Facebook notwithstanding) when we move on. This is despite our best efforts. We might meet people through sport, or common interests but that’s sort of it. That is one reason why leaving a church is hard. I’m sure its even a reason many people over the years have stayed, or stayed longer than they should, at a church that was toxic or damaging to them.
Like it or not, a church is a social club of sorts. You join one, you make friends there. You have a common interest, a similar way of seeing the world. You meet through activities run by the church and the fact that you keep running into each other at church events manages to sustain the relationship to a point. So what happens when you leave the church and lose that community?
Let me tell you from experience: hurt. Hurt is what happens. Anger happens. Misinformation often happens. I’m currently watching from a distance as someone I know had her support network disappear overnight. I’m not sure of the particulars of her case, but I’m sure the dynamics would be the same: hurt, anger, disbelief. Potentially rejection and the shattering of an illusion. I’m looking at Josh Harris (author of “I Kissed Dating Goodbye”) and given his recent renunciation of faith, I’d say he is going through a lot of this too.
So what do you do when something happens and *poof* up goes your support network in a puff of smoke and you find yourself all alone? This is my 100% unqualified, non-exhaustive list. But I’ve experienced this and I wanted to offer a little wisdom if I could be so presumptuous.
Find a good therapist. I’m putting this first on the list because frankly, I think everyone needs one. Science is starting to catch up with just how profound the physical effects of stress or emotional upheaval can be. So a good therapist (emphasis on the word *good*) should be in everyone’s bag of tricks. It’s especially important when it comes to reinventing your social circle or your community of trust for one good reason though: if you’ve just been through a situation that wounded you so deeply and turned your world upside down, you need to vent to someone and learn some strategies to get your resilience game on point. If you go looking for friends at the same time as you go looking for someone to vent to, and you don’t have positive mechanisms for emotional recovery in place, the two worlds may collide and you may become that person who always wants to bitch about the people who let you down.
Don’t get me wrong. You need to do that. Just do it constructively so it doesn’t poison or define your new friendships. When my husband and I started redeveloping our tribe, we knew our story was pretty dramatic. We also knew there would be a lot of curiosity about it. We had to decide who was in the very small, trusted circle of people we confided in and who was in the circle of people we just got to know from a place of fun, shared interests, and doing life together. We also got a good therapist. Oh boy! She is worth her weight in gold, and the three-hour drive to get to her. (It’s also a night off kids though so I’ll be honest, sometimes I’m more excited about that than therapy.)Understand, it’s different in adulthood. Friends don’t just fall in your lap. This takes effort, and sometimes that means confronting a bit of social anxiety! I used to do things like invite other mums to the park. That way our kids could play, there could be something there for us to talk about (i.e kids and playing) and I could leave at any time. Through that, I got the feel for who was easy to be around and who I could connect with. We also joined groups – things like playgroups, writing groups, book clubs, and theatre groups. Through them, we have met some amazing people.We also had a look at our Facebook friends list. On it, there were a few people we had often thought “Yeah, I bet we would get along great.” So we took the plunge and invited them out for dinner. (Risky move, seeing if it went terribly, it would have been just hideous!) Thankfully, the conversation came very easily! But still, the friendships we cultivate in adulthood do require cultivating. You don’t have a long shared history. You have to invite them to things. You have to put in the effort to work it. It’s 100% worth it because loneliness and social isolation are killers for mental health. All I’m saying is that it needs to be approached proactively.
Look for common interests. I remember chatting to this couple that makes “cool” look completely effortless. Like, these two were just so insta-perfect its not funny. I figured they were out of my league, socially. (Cue massive social anxiety!) But as we chatted in the foyer of our new church (which was scary at first! Whole other story in that…), we realized we both had an interest in the Middle East. My hubby was like “Great! You guys should come over and we can cook Middle Eastern food and watch movies about the Middle East.” I was petrified. This sounded like the perfect recipe for awkward. I usually invite new friends out for dinner at first so I can fake digestive distress and RUN HOME TO CRY if it’s awkward.Fast forward two years and they are among our closest, bestest friends. Yes, I just used the word “Bestest.” We actually didn’t end up talking about the Middle East at all though, and as it turns out that was absolutely fine.
Be ready to correct wrong beliefs about friendships. The tough truth of the matter is that, if you lost a church community overnight and had all your friends disappear with it, you might have been gifted with trust issues, God issues and friend issues all in one. I’m not going to trivialize that, because that is big. You’re going to need time to heal from that. You know that therapist in point number 1? Well! He/She is there for a reason. Depending on the reason for you leaving a church or changing churches, you may be going through some pretty deep personal upheaval. It can be easy to throw the baby out with the bathwater and lose sight of what was real and what wasn’t. Perspective will come in time, and hurts will heal in time. But while you walk that journey, you can’t just hide your heart from the world in the hopes you won’t get hurt again. Inevitably. you will be the one who inflicts the damage of loneliness on yourself if you do that.But just because your old pond somehow became poisoned doesn’t mean there aren’t good people out there. Over the years, I have had to confront some false/unhelpful beliefs I had about friends, and replace them with new, helpful paradigms to think about friendships through. It takes time, and a bit of conscious reflection, but its doable. Perhaps with the help of some good books, or good therapy, but it is doable.
Take courage friend. Put yourself out there. Do it proactively. Do it bit by bit. Do it so you feel like you are in control and not in over your head or unsafe. Do it so you’ve got something to talk about (like kids, or a hobby, or a book, or whatever). Do whatever you need, but do it. If you put yourself out there, there is a pretty darn good chance that beautiful connections will be made: connections that can be deepened over time and cherished for a long time to come.
I’m sorry that you’ve been through such a tough time. My hope for you is that you discover resilience you didn’t know you had, that you go deep and rid yourself of unhelpful beliefs about yourself, or friendships, or life, or God, and that this time of pruning old branches results in rich new growth in your life. It sucks. It’s hard. It hurts. Nothing will ever erase the difficulty that you are going through right now…
But its just possible that you will look back on this time in years to come and see it as the making of you – a time when beautiful friendships were formed, when you realised how strong you are, how resilient you are, and how much life truly has to offer when you are pushed out of your comfort zone.
Wishing you peace and strength
Kit K
Hey, if you like what you read, feel free to follow my socials. Facebook, Twitter and Instagram
K Thx Bye