On NZd's Culture of Abuse Part 2

This post will focus on what makes abusers, and how we can change this.

Recent police data shows that the majority of those directly affected by violent crimes in Aotearoa are women (54%), and perpetrators are overwhelmingly male (76%).  And violence resulting in injury is perpetrated by a higher percentage of men (87%) against a higher percentage of women (65%).  While these stats also reflect that men are also victims, and women perpetrators, they are the minority.  3/4 of all violent crimes, and almost 90% of serious violent crimes (resulting in injury) are perpetrated by men. 

Crimes of a violent nature are overwhelmingly a male problem.

There is no 'male' or 'female' brain.  Just brain.

Why is this? It is often blamed on the 'male'* hormone testosterone, but this is a simplistic argument.  Metastudies have shown that in spite of popular opinion, there is little difference between the male and female brain.  Studies that have been touted as 'proving' difference based on gender have for the most part been discredited.  This is due to size (some referenced studies with as few as 12 participants), inconsistency in results, or showing too marginal a difference to be of note.  The only studies which have consistently shown any difference between men and women regard spacial visualisation abilities.  And even so, the difference is less than 5%.**  So testosterone and 'male brains' are not likely the culprits.

If it's not nature, then surely it's nurture.

Aotearoa's 'culture' of the 1960's (when my Mother was born) was all about rugby racing and beer.  And this illustrates an important point.  Because rugby, racing and beer were just for men.  We may have won the right to vote before other nations (thanks to the temperance movement) but, prior to 1961 women weren't allowed to drink in public outside of hotel bars.  Women could not be professional jockey's until 1978 and we did not have an international women's rugby team until 1991.  Although this was recognised as quintessentially 'Kiwi' culture, for decades our culture excluded women.

So many of us have grown up with an image of New Zealand in which our women were rendered invisible.  While this is changing (slowly, we still have more 'John's' in the boardroom than women...) we still have a long way to go in terms of gender equality.  And we constantly seem to be roadblocking that by creating new trends that mark gender.

This new tradition does not serve us.

We live in a time of gender reveal parties.  Where the first question many of us are asked when we discover we will become parents is 'Would you prefer a girl or a boy?'  When you can get blood tests that can determine your babies gender from just 10 weeks into your pregnancy.  Before these tiny humans are even born, their gender is considered the most important thing about them.

Even if like me, you've tried really hard to avoid this.  As a feminist with a strong desire to build a better world for the next generation I have worked hard to avoid gender typing.  But kids don't live inside a vacuum.  Etta was teased by other girls at Kindy for wearing 'boy' clothes.  Now, at not quite six she and her friends are already struggling with physical intimidation by boys in the playground.  I've sat in school assemblies where playground violence has been quietly attributed to 'the boys'.  And even while this may be true, and even while they were being told it was wrong, telling them this is what boys do is not helping.

Even though it mightn't seem so, it's as bad as saying 'boys will be boys'.

Because when we say this, kids hear us.  They hear that this is what we expect from them.  And because gender is talked about as an important defining part of who they are, they want to meet those expectations.  They want to play the part expected of them so they can be a 'good' boy or girl.  So if we tell our boys they are rough, unemotional and not good with words, and we tell our girls to be pretty, they will work hard to be what we say they are.  And this doesn't serve anyone, particularly our kids.

There are many things our violence rates illustrate about what is wrong in our culture.  To me though, the biggest one is that boys need to be allowed, and taught how to manage their emotions and that it's ok to cry***.  In Aotearoa particularly, men are expected to be staunch, to be strong, to not cry.  Sometimes it feels like the only emotion are boys are expected to express is anger.  On many occasions I've seen men I know struggling to process emotion go straight to anger.  And how can we expect any different?  If they are not taught to feel and manage other emotions, where else can they go?

 Voices like John Kirwin's and Mike King's are so important.
What would help even more if someone came out about addressing their anger.

I expect our ever increasing male suicide rates might answer this question.

It doesn't feel nice hurting people.  Yes, there are certainly sadists out there who get a kick out of it, but I believe they are the minority.  Acknowledging that we have hurt someone is hard.  For anyone.  Particularly hard if you don't know how to deal with your emotions.  Statistics show that many perpetrators of abuse were abused themselves.  For those people, they not only have to process their mistakes, but they have to process what happened to them.  It's a lot to process.  I am not justifying abuse as a course of action here, I am simply saying that we need to do more to support our men emotionally.  Equality is a two way street.  Why shouldn't men have the same tools as women?  Not having them is literally killing them, and in the process, us.

So what can we do to change this?

There are many small things we can do to change this culture of abuse, within our own homes, families and communities.  It will take time to change, but it won't change at all if we don't do anything about it.  Here are a few simple things we can do to change this culture.

• Educate ourselves on our countries history.  Use this education to help us acknowledge the impact colonialism had, and still has on Māori.
  
• Educate ourselves on what abuse looks like.  There are plenty of resources online, and many courses you can do.  Can you recognise systemic abuse?  Can you recognise fiscal abuse?  Can you recognise emotional abuse?
  
• Educate ourselves on the links between sexism, racism, abelism and abuse.  Understanding this will help us teach our children differently (hopefully).
  Good on ya Kanoa!
  

• Vote for political parties that acknowledge this issue and are willing to do the work to make relevant changes in law reform, mental health outreach and support, and equality.
  
• Support your local woman's refuge however you can.  Equally, support programmes that support men in accessing and managing their emotions.  Do not assume all programmes out there are helpful, or that if someone is attending one they will be 'better'.*****  This is not a simple problem that can easily be fixed.
  
• If abuse has happened in your family try and work through the shame.  Seek help to address proactive ways of managing what has happened through counseling, or talking with people that you trust.  We need to erase the stigma around abuse.
  
• Make sure your children understand what emotions are, why they are feeling them, and things they can do to manage those feelings.
  
• Do not tolerate violence in your own home (where possible).
  
• Realise this is not a black and white issue.  There are many sides to any story, and while all are relevant, resolutions should focus on respecting boundaries set for safety.
  
• Act with kindness.
  
• Share what you learn with your loved ones and children.

* Women produce testosterone too... Just in smaller amounts.

**Please read Delusions of Gender by Cordelia Fine for more info.

*** The flip side of this is, of course, that girls need to it's ok to be strong.  It's ok to go against the grain and they shouldn't be punished for it.  The other thing those stats illustrated is that females are more likely to suffer a violent assault than men.  Sadly, other data shows that girls who grow up in a home where their Mum is abused by their Dad are six times more likely to experience sexual abuse, than girls who don't.  Equally, a young boy witnessing his mother being abused is 10 times more likely to abuse a future female partner.

**** I've been to a few domestic violence groups now where women have said their partners/ex-partners used their anger management classes as justification for their behavior/ to minimise the abuse they perpetrated.

***** Although it overwhelmingly impacts on trans folk more than any other group, queer people and women.

On NZd's Culture of Abuse Part 1

So I've been thinking about this a lot lately.  Which, if you read my blog regularly, may come as no surprise.  But recent events, both personal and political have caused me to need to speak.  This week I read about a friend celebrating her one year anniversary since her stalker was convicted.  I have heard Brian Tamaki threaten prison riots and minimise rape purely because his Man Up courses have not been instituted in prisons.  This week I had my voice silenced by someone I've known for most of my life, simply for speaking about the impact of abuse.  I am probably not saying anything on this topic that hasn't already been said.  In fact, I read a fantastic article about this on Noted earlier this week.

How can any person run a course on violence who
incites and promotes violence himself?            

 

But for me, blogging feels like taking action.  I only voice things publicly when I feel that if just one person reads this and learns something from it then it's worth sharing.  On topics around trauma, I speak because I know so many can't.  This isn't easy for me.  But I'm a strong believer that the personal is political and I know that the small things we say and do can make big changes.  I believe this, because I see it happening in both good and bad ways every day.  And I think this is particularly true to us here in Aotearoa, where each one of us is a greater percentage of population than in larger countries.

Here in Aotearoa, every single one of us will know both someone who has been abused, and someone who is an abuser.  Every one of us.

Even if we don't know it. 

Those who are abused are often not in a position to come forward about their abuse.  What I mean by this is that coming forward may risk victims of abuse a loss in financial or family support, or even their lives.  Almost 75% of domestic violence homicides happen while the person is trying to leave, or in the two weeks after they leave their violent partner.  90% of sexual assault is perpetrated by someone known to the victim.  33 - 39% of women in New Zealand experience physical or sexual violence from an intimate partner.  Our abusers are our partners, lovers, friends and family.  This is not easy to talk about.

      Everyone should be familiar with this

Secondly, many people do not understand what abuse looks like.  Abuse is not always bruises and black eyes, or hate speech or unwanted sexual contact.  Abuse can be many things.  Abuse can be someone using finances as a mean of controlling your behavior.  It can be having threats made against pets or loved ones.  It can be acts of violence against inanimate objects.  The cycle of violence is a great resource to refer to if you are questioning whether something happening in your life constitutes abuse.

For me, growing up with abuse was not about getting smacked.  I did, but not often and never with undue force and smacking was pretty normal in the 80's.  The infrequent smacking was never the problem.  For me, the abuse was more about a sense of fear.  That if I said the wrong thing, there would be consequences, and these consequences were demonstrated.  I was 13 when Once Were Warriors was released and I saw it in the cinema with my family.  And my family said 'this is not us'. And that was true.  It wasn't.  But I still didn't think I would survive my childhood. 

Even when abuse does not leave a physical mark, it leaves a mark.

For children growing up with abuse this mark often takes the form of Complex PTSD.  Young children who suffer abuse or neglect have brains that are wired differently.  Their neurological pathways are not able to develop normally.  Children who have grown up with abuse struggle with many things others take for granted like regulating their emotions, sleeping or trusting other people.  They struggle with self image and feeling worthy of love.  Those with Complex PTSD are far more likely to attempt suicide than those without.

My actual diagnoses are PTSD and Dissociative Disorder.  But basically, I have CPTSD*.  This is a lifelong diagnoses.  I have always had it.  I always will.  I have no idea what it feels like to be 'normal.'  I am anxious, particularly about social situations.  I take medication to manage this.  If I don't, it takes so much energy to go to work, or take the kids to Kindy and school I become non-functional.  I often feel that I am wearing a 'human suit' and staring out through the eye holes.  This feeling often makes me question my existence.  I have attempted suicide.  I have bouts of insomnia but I've learned ways to manage this**.  I am sensitive to the emotions of others.  I am easily startled.

These marks compound mine, and others, ability to speak out.  How does one speak out if they do not feel they can trust others?  How does an emotionally fragile person present as a viable witness?

If we contrast that with the skills we know perpetrators of abuse often have, it is easy to see why it's simply easier to ignore abuse.  Abusers are manipulative.  They are often charming and affable.  And they are all of these things precisely because if they weren't, it would be difficult to maintain their position of power.  Wikipedia defines abuse as:
The improper usage or treatment of a thing, often to unfairly or improperly gain benefit. 
Abusers treat people improperly for their own gain.

We have a system that saw no issue
in raiding Ruatoria for fear of an 'uprising',
yet turned a blind eye to known concerns in Christchurch.  

If we look at this from a wider angle it makes it easier to understand why we are so accepting of abuse here in Aotearoa.  Our country is premised on it.  Colonialism is an abuse of power to the advantage of the colonisers.  The colonisers here still benefit from this.  The people who were here first still suffer for it***.  Much of our history is still not taught in New Zealand schools.  I only just learned the true origins of the ANZAC's this year.  There is a reason for this. That reason is simply that those in power want to keep the status quo.  Because it benefits them.  And when this is challenged by someone who is unhappy with the power imbalance, they are painted as 'extreme' 'crazy' or 'stuck in the past.'  Or, they are arrested, or discredited.

We have the same problem regarding attempts to right our gender imbalance.  This week Sean Plunkett said: Within the next two years, the liberal left wing woke feminazis will call for the banning of rugby entirely****. 
Every time some ground appears to be made up for women like by, say, the #metoo movement, or having a new bill passed through parliament to grant leave to those trying to leave abusive situations, some old white dude tries to redirect the conversation.  The reason for this is because these old white dudes are desperate to stay at the top of the heap.  Every time a privileged white dude says 'it happens to men too.' or 'Not all men' he is basically just desperately trying to stay relevant in a world where he can see his position slipping.

So grateful to have so many amazing women
in parliament.  There is so much work to do!

We live within a power structure which is inherently abusive.  This is why it is so easy for many of us to miss it, or to ignore it.  If we are at the top of the heap and doing ok, it is simply easier to shrug our shoulders than to acknowledge that which doesn't directly affect us.  If we are not, our voices are ignored.

And I cannot ignore this.  I cannot ignore this because it happened to me, and I see it happening to others on a daily basis.  To people I care about.  And no-one deserves this.  I have come to a point in my life which I call PFO - Post Family Obligation.  What that means is I refuse to feel obligated for the sake of blood ties.  This was not an easy place to get to.  It took me almost 40 years.  As an eldest child, as an empathetic, educated child within a family that I love dearly, this was not an easy decision.  But becoming a parent simplified things for me.

When we ignore abuse, it allows this cycle to perpetuate.  And I do not want this legacy for my children.

I know that if I allow behavior that I know is not ok to continue, this impacts my kids.  Not just because it heightens the possibility of them being abused, but because they learn to allow it themselves.  When I excuse the obviously hurtful behaviors of others, it teaches them to excuse them too.  I grew up like this.  Most of us will have grown up like this.  'She'll be right' is part of our Kiwi culture.

So I'm working to change this.  For me, therapy was helpful.  Particularly going to group therapy and meeting other people with similar backgrounds to me.  When I became a parent of two it became apparent I did not know what I was doing.  My mental health compounded this.  But I did not want to repeat the mistakes of prior generations.  I sought help from Maternity Mental Health.  I did a parenting course.  I work hard to do the best I can by our kids.  I make mistakes.  I make a lot of mistakes.  But I try to learn from my mistakes.  From my families mistakes.

My obligation to them is more important than any other obligation.
I cannot change New Zealand.  But I can work on the culture in our home.

Part two to follow soon! 

*  This term wasn't in common usage when I was diagnoses 17 or so years ago.

** I have a sleep routine.  I have my Shakti mat.  If my brain won't shut up, I read until I'm so exhausted that it does.  If my anxiety is so bad none of this helps, I take Phenergan, a simple hayfever medication, because sleeping meds do not work for me.

*** Just make an effort to read any of our current median wage stats, or NZ prison stats, or education stats.  Or read my last blog for a link

**** I comfortably consider myself to be a liberal left wing woke feminazi, and while I have little to no interest in watching rugby, I personally have no interest in banning it.  His very suggestion completely ignores the fact that the Black Ferns exist, and have the highest winning percentage of any international rugby team.  And no, I don't just mean in Women's rugby - all rugby.  If I were able to make any changes to rugby it would simply be to give the Black Ferns the props (pun intended), and the income, they deserve.

Why I will not listen to Michael Jackson any more

So this morning while driving to Pak n Save I was startled by the opening throngs of Thriller on full blast.  And I wanted to cry.

Thriller, reinterpreted by Taika Waititi in Boy.

But I wasn't surprised.

Because this is the world I've grown up in.  A world of rape culture.  A world where people will fight for their right to keep the status quo at any cost.

Jimmy Safechuck with MJ                    

While I was gladdened by Mediaworks and NZME's response to the Leaving Neverland documentary I knew that by pulling Michael Jackson from their playlists there would be backlash.  That many, many people would say James Safechuck and Wade Robson had made it all up for a little bit of fame and money.  That people from Jackson's past would come forward to protect his image, his legacy.  I knew the likelihood of hearing more classic Michael Jackson tracks pumping out from sound systems around the world.

I know this because this is how society responds to rape accusations.  This is how society responds to any kind of abuse accusations against anyone who is not a random scary guy in the bushes.  Especially when that person is deemed exceptional, as if talent translates directly to moral fortitude.  I have lived with the consequences of standing up for myself against abuse*.  My abuser was not exceptional, just a regular charismatic and likeable person.  But no matter what my abuser had actually done, speaking out would put me on the stand to have my personhood questioned.

I know what it is like to struggle to find the language to articulate what was wrong in my life because I was a child.  I know how it feels to grow into an adult and find a voice and words to express what happened.  How I've had to do this tactfully, with minimal detail.  Because I still love the person who impacted my life in this way.  And because I am still fearful of the consequences of speaking out**.

Because even though I was only a child, and never possibly to blame for what happened, I would be blamed for speaking out.  When the truth is difficult for others to hear or comprehend, the fate of the speaker is to be silenced.

Me and a cousin as kids in the early 90's

I have experienced this silencing in many forms.  Firstly, I have had my personhood discredited.  It was my fault I could not process my abuse.  The abusers place in this was never mentioned.  The abuser was never a concern.  And this silencing began when I was just 14 years old***. 

I was told as a child I was 'too sensitive', 'over-dramatic', 'too contrary.'  When I did find words to wrap around my experience it was minimised.  I was told by people who never asked what happened to me that what happened was not that bad.  I was told the actions I was taking for self preservation were unfair and cruel to my abuser.  Sometimes I am still told these things now.

The hardest part about this is that the people silencing me were my family.

My family simultaneously saved me from my situation whilst never really speaking about it.  I never felt I was encouraged to speak, and to be fair I was also very scared of what might happen if I did.  Part of me is still fearful.  So it certainly wasn't easy for them.  In defense of my family, we are not taught how to speak about these things.  But a part of me believes that even had I been specific about the abuses I suffered it would have made no difference to my family's response.

This is Andrew.  He was always the
perfect gentleman.  He helped us get
gigs.  He helped me contact The Labour
Party when they were late taking their

hoardings down.  He is also accused of
abusing young women.

Because no-one likes to believe that people they know are capable of such acts.  Including me.  A few years ago Andrew Tidball was accused of having inappropriate relationships with very young women.  Initially I was shocked.  I was one of the many people who 'liked' his initial statement on Facebook.  He had never been anything but a gentleman to me.  My gut response was that it could not possibly be true.

But after thinking about it, and reading more about the specifics of the accusations I thought about his accusers.  What did they have to gain by making this up?  I was not his target demographic for abuse.  While I was young when I met him I was over 20, white skinned and bolshy.  Like most abusers he will have crafted his friend group and situation so that he was always seen as the good guy.  Like most abusers he hid in plain sight.  Like most abusers, he had most of us suckered even though, retrospectively, there were signs that things were not right.

My gut reaction was because I didn't want it to be true.  I didn't want it to be true because it meant I had, in effect, supported someone who abused young women.  And that was a horrible feeling.  I think this is a common response.  I suspect why now we are seeing all these articles by MJ's staff and friends is precisely due to this same gut reaction.  That if the accusations are true, we are guilty by association.

These days I have heard enough stories of abuse to just believe them without question.  These days I know that only 2% of rape accusations are false.  I know that of 100 sexual violations in NZ only 9 will be reported, and only one of those abusers convicted.  Knowing this, I know how few people will share their story.  How can I not believe that Michael Jackson sexually abused those boys?

I cannot believe they had motive in making this documentary other than to have their voices heard.  I cannot believe that the award winning director, Dan Reed, would stake his reputation in film-making on a flimsy premise.  What I can believe is that enough time has passed since MJ's death - almost 10 years, that they felt safe enough to talk about what happened to them.  That they needed to talk about what happened to them to assuage the pain and guilt they felt about not talking about it.

And I am glad they did.  I know how hard it is to talk about this stuff.  I know the likelihood of having your truth stomped on.  I know that 99 out of 100 times someone is sexually violated in NZ the abuser will walk away with no comeuppance.  And I know this is due to our culture.  This is because we don't want to talk about the fact that our friends, our parents, our siblings, our coaches and teachers are also our abusers.  Because we know what happens to people who talk frankly about their, and our, reality.

Michael Jackson's estate has sued HBO.  His estate will do whatever it takes to silence his victims.  They will discredit their words.  They will minimise their accusations.  They will call them thoughtless and cruel.  They will do what the rest of the world does to any one of us who calls out our abusers.

We have only to look at the changing face of Michael Jackson
to see how unhappy he was with himself.  How broken he was.

We know abuse begets abuse.  It's common knowledge that Michael Jackson was sexually abused as a child, that he was beaten by his father, that he had no normalcy in childhood.  This does not make what he did ok.  Rather than focus on the why, we should be focused on what we can do as a society to break the cycle of abuse.  Why did those boys, and countless others have to live through what they did when instead, their abusers pain could have been addressed?

We have the power to re-educate ourselves so our children do not have to live as we did.  We can teach them how to understand feelings, and that they have a safe space to express them to us.  We can encourage transparency by showing them unconditional love.  We can educate ourselves the impact of childhood trauma so we can recognise and repair it.  We can empower our children so they can live different lives than we have.

I know this is not easy.  We are working against what feels natural, particularly here in Aotearoa with our 'she'll be right' attitude.  Things are not right.  33 - 39% of our wahine will experience physical and/or sexual abuse from their intimate partner.  We have the 5th worst child abuse rate in the OECD.  Things are not right and we cannot change this until we acknowledge what is wrong.  We need to start building safe spaces for people to speak.  We need to start listening.

When I heard Thriller booming out on a strangers stereo this morning all I heard was an attempt to drown out the voices of the abused.  And I know this is not how most people will feel.

But I will not contribute to the drowning out of those voices.  Because mine is one of them and it is one of many.

* In my case the abuse I'm referring to was not sexual.  But it was still abuse.  Of course I have a litany of other sexual trespasses against me that will also inform this feeling.  You can read about them here.

** Like most of us, my abuser was known to me.  And like most of us, they too experienced horrific childhood trauma.  Trauma is cyclical.  Trauma is inherited.

*** Even earlier if you take into account the atmosphere of my childhood.

On Life After Incest

TRIGGER WARNING: Sexual Assault/Incest  
Please, if you choose to read this and feel you need some support phone Victim Support on 0800 842 846 or if in Auckland the HELP foundation crisis line on 09 623 1700

I write this in the hopes that in creating dialogue around this issue I can in a small way make it easier to talk about incestuous sexual abuse.  I write from the position of having family live through this, and it directly impacting on relationships within my family at the present time.  Incestuous abuse has affected many people within my wider family and there has been more than one perpetrator.  While I write this with one person in mind (I had her read this before I posted it), I write with all those people affected in my heart and I am sure there are more of you than I know.  I write from a place of love and sadness.  I write because I have hope.

Not just for my own family, but the many other families who live with this.  Because there are many.  Incest is not uncommon here in NZ, so it feels wrong that we don't talk about it.  One study of 3,000 Kiwi women showed that 1 in 8 women experience incest during their lifetime, which is about 12%*.  This may seem high, but given that in New Zealand we have the 5th worst child abuse record in the OECD, high rates of sexual assault (1 in 5) and extremely high rates of domestic and intimate violence rates (1 in 3) I think it may be even higher.

And we don't talk about it.

While we have the #metoo movement empowering those who have experienced sexual assault to speak out about their experiences, how many of those relate to incest?  Very few.  And while it is fantastic that people are finding their voices through this movement, for those who have experienced incest I can only imagine it makes them feel even more invisible and further alienated in their experience**.  And it saddens me because it is such a common experience.  So the truth is, victims are incest are far from alone in their experiences, yet can still feel so isolated.

In 2017 we elected the highest number of women MP's in NZ history; 46 women.  Of that number, statistically 6 of them will have experienced incest.  2,436,790(ish) women live in New Zealand, of that number 292,415(ish) will have experienced incest.  And those numbers do not include the many boys and men that also experience incest.  And those are not just arbitrary numbers, they represent real human lives.  Think about how many women there are in your family and do the math.

We don't talk about it, but it effects a great deal of us.

For those who live with the experience of incest the impact can be huge.  Associated issues include:***

• Problems with close relationships
• Depression
• Self-destructive behaviours
• Difficulty/fears around parenting
• Issues with sex
• Chronic pain/health issues 

Imagine living with this, living with the associated issues and not telling anyone?  Imagine how lonely and scary that might feel?

Why we don't talk about it isn't difficult to guess.  Shame and fear.  When someone close to you hurts you like this you wonder why they did it.  What did you do to bring this on yourself?  The perpetrator will often tell the victim that for whatever reason, the abuse is their fault.  For victims of incest, the fear is completely rational.  Telling someone can hugely impact every aspect of your life.  What happens when the abuser lives with you?  What happens if your abuser is your caregiver?  What will I lose if I tell someone?  What will happen if no-one believes me?  In speaking up, victims of incest stand to lose a lot.  Telling someone can feel like a huge gamble.

I am writing this because someone in my family gambled on telling us.

There is no need to go into specifics over the many abuses she has survived.  All I will say is that the abuse happened for years over her childhood and beyond and it was violent.  The reason it has only come out recently is because she (like many other victims of sexual assault) had repressed memories that started surfacing.  The impact on her life has been huge.  She cannot remember a time in her life before she was abused.  As a consequence, she is neurologically wired differently to those who grow up with healthy childhoods****.

There were a lot of signs that something was wrong, but we missed them.

So what happened when her abuse was finally revealed?  Suppression.  Minimisation.  Interrogation.  Thinly veiled disbelief.  Fear of the family being 'outed', fear of what others would think.  After years of keeping this to herself and her partner, when she finally did talk she was told to keep it to herself until her revelation could be 'managed'.  Her wider family did not learn of this until well over a year after she first told her parents.  Another lonely year.  Once her closer family members were told she gained some support, but not without cost.  And once the larger family were told what came about was anger, blame and abuse.

And amongst all this the craziest thing that happened was that none of the extended family***** reached out to her.  No-one called to say 'I'm sorry this happened to you, how can I help?'  No-one.  I cannot speak for how this must have felt for her, but for me it broke the illusion that our family was close.  Would they do the same if it were me?  Would my truth be met with silence?  Unlike many other families my extended family comes together regularly to celebrate.  So why is it that we couldn't come together to help when we learned one of us had suffered so much for so long?  I have waited in hope that this would change, but it hasn't.

I can only give an educated guess as to why this is.  My guess is that her parents response has set the tone for how others in the family respond.  I guess that this is something people don't know how to approach so they don't approach it at all, or that they feel it is not their place.  I know how difficult it is for many to believe they have spent so much time with the abuser and had no idea he was doing this.  I have faced this disbelief regarding my own history.  I know these things can be easier not to believe.  If the abuse never happened then there is no need to question our ability to judge the morality of others.  Then we don't feel guilty for 'letting' the abuse happen or stupid for not realising it could.  It is easier to blame the victim than to hold the abuser to account for their actions.  It is easier to pretend it never happened.

My current family situation reminds me of The Beach by Alex Garland; what will people sacrifice to continue living in 'paradise?'  What will they give up to maintain the status quo?

And this probably sounds like my family are terrible people.  But they are just regular people.  This response is very common.  It is awful, but it is normal and I think this is because so many of us are taught to value public perception over reality.  To value keeping things 'in the family.'  To say nothing, if we have nothing nice to say.  We are taught not to talk about this stuff and in not talking we allow the abuse to continue.  In this, our family is not unique and this is just so sad.

It's a cycle.  As a consequence of valuing family ties over honesty, victims are alienated and disempowered.  Abusers are free to continue on in their lives without consequence.  Society continues to support abusers and alienate victims therefore abuse can continue unchecked and violence begets violence.  I don't believe any well person wakes up one morning and just decides 'Hey!  I think I'm going to rape someone today.'  I believe getting to this point is a gradual process of unhealthy behaviours going largely unhindered and is aided by how women are treated by society.  And males who are abused by relatives in childhood are more likely to become abusers.  Abuse begets abuse.

So when we don't talk about incest, when we shut down conversations about incest, when we disbelieve victims of incest we perpetuate that cycle.  And this is not only in the worst interests of the victims, but the abusers too.  I have no doubt in my mind that most abusers feel as much guilt over their actions as their victims feel shame, and while there are many other factors involved, could this guilt also play a part in our high male suicide statistics?  I do not believe that all New Zealand's terrible statistics are islands unto themselves.  If we give abusers the opportunity to talk about what happened, the opportunity to make changes, the opportunity to raise their children differently, we may start to solve many other problems too.

While NZ is often touted as a pillar of Woman's Suffrage due to being the first to give women the vote******, our rates of incest, our domestic violence rates and our sexual violence rates (one of the top 5 in the OECD) tell a very different story of how women are treated here.  Because while these are issues for men too, the perpetrators of this violence are predominantly male and offending primarily against women.  And we have the capacity to change this.

So what can we do to prevent incest within our own families?

• Create a safe environment in which your children feel like they can trust you and talk to you freely.
• Teach your children about consent
• Teach your children the correct words for genitalia
• Know the signs of sexual abuse in children.  Read about them here.
• If you see any of these signs, talk to your kids about it.
• Get professional help and support if you need it

And what can we do if incest has happened within our own families?

• Believe the person who has been abused.  Remember that only 2 - 10% of victims of sexual assault falsely accuse the perpetrator.  That means that 90 - 98% of the time victims are telling the truth.
• Focus on the needs of the victim first.  What boundaries need to be in place to help them feel safe?  What can you do to ensure those boundaries are enforced?
• Make sure they have professional support.  For abuse of this type therapy is funded through ACC regardless of how long ago the abuse occurred.
• Make sure you have professional support yourself.
• Talk to the abuser and encourage them to get professional support.  Remember that many abusers have been abused themselves.
• If abuse is suspected to be ongoing, ensure your family is safe from further abuse.  It is possible to do this whilst still giving support to the victim and the abuser.

I for one do not want to maintain the status quo.  I want better for my family and my children.  Our silence leaves victims alone, and frees abusers to continue abusing.  There is no shame in being honest about abuse.

I am so proud of my family member for taking a gamble on speaking out.  I can only imagine how hard that was for her.  But in doing so, she is paving a way for all our children to grow up differently and she has my full support in this.  We have the capacity to change our statistics.  Silence is not the solution.

* To equate this to another statistic, this is the same reported rate as that which boys/men are sexually assaulted in New Zealand.

** There's a fantastic blog post about this here

*** Taken from the NZ Rape Prevention Education website

**** Just as I am.  I did an intensive Circle of Security parenting course because I have no idea how to be a 'normal' parent and raise healthy children.  All we can do is try and re-wire our brains using methodologies from psycho-therapy and the reality is that we will never 'get over it'.  We will never be 'fixed', all we can do is work on recovery and conscious acts of doing things differently for our children.

***** Besides my Mum and myself.  I think this is largely due to what we lived through, our understanding of how it feels to be a victim of abuse and what we have learned over years of therapy.


****** Sorry to burst your bubble here but that was mostly due to an attempt at getting prohibition through in NZ.  Kate Sheppard was a strong prohibitionist and a certain group of politicians believed if they allowed women to vote, Kate Sheppard's voice along other women's would aid in pushing through new laws prohibiting alcohol.  While women won the right to vote, they didn't vote for prohibition at that time as expected.  But this is why we got the vote so early, not because we value our women's rights, but due to drinking issues in the goldfields...