Tuesday, November 23, 2021

You Did Your Part

 


It still stings when I recall the words.

“You Did Your Part.”

Minimizing.

Negating.

Condescending.

Patronizing.

Abusive.

Maybe you have heard the exact same thing, or, at least, a similar sentiment to those words.

“You Did Your Part.”

For those of us recovering from abuse, it’s inevitable we will come across someone who downplays what we have gone through. They will excuse it, give reasons why it happened, or encourage us to be good little soldiers, tough it out, and see ourselves as team players, rather than as targets of abuse.

“You Did Your Part.”

Those are some loaded words.

And there was more sub-text hidden in them. What was really meant was more like this…

You protected your family/job/organization/church/school and their image. (Good job!)

How many of us learn that family or business allegiance is more important than an individual’s well-being? “For the greater good,” as they say, right?

Many of us are trained, conditioned, and groomed to believe that the thing, the organization, the structure, the job, the family, the image is far more valuable than any of the members it contains. We are instructed to keep the peace, to “go along to get along,” to lie, to do whatever is necessary to keep this organism alive and thriving. Morals, ethics, relationships, marriages, personal health, and safety be damned! Just make sure “the collective body” is viewed in a positive light. That is the priority. And it is non-negotiable.

You were silent; you didn’t use you voice. (Good job!)

Silence is the mandate. It is golden. Loose lips sink ships, and all that.

How many of us, in a toxic structure, like family or a job situation, were rewarded, or, at the very least, not punished, for zipping our lips? We learn that silence is expected of us; it is our duty. Loyalty. Who are we to challenge the greater authority, and its accompanying image? Just who do we think we are, after all?

So, we muffle our voices. We see something is wrong. We feel something is wrong. We know something is wrong.

But silence. It becomes the necessary air we must breathe. Why must we breathe it?

Because suffocation, a/k/a “or else” punishment.

That can be things like, but not limited to, estrangement from family members, loss of a job, our kids or pets taken away from us, financial support is withdrawn from our lives, violence comes in our direction, guilt, we’re made to feel we are the wrong, awful, dysfunctional and, of course, we are told we are the problem. Everyone else has no issue with how things are going.

What is wrong with us, anyway? Why can’t we just do our part, like good little boys and girls?

You enabled the abuse to keep happening in some way. (Good job!)

Go along to get along. Most of us have done it. In the short-term, it’s just easier to go with the flow, to not make waves, than to confront the harmful or dysfunctional behavior. And, in some cases, especially abusive situations, it’s dangerous for us to do that. We could get ourselves killed for doing that.

So, we enable. We make excuses. We lie. We cover up. We hurt ourselves trying to get and keep things perfectly in order, to avoid wrath and mayhem.

All the while, however, we are tortured because we “let something happen.” Perhaps, we feel we stood by while someone was sexually abused, lost their job, exploited a situation, or lied. Recrimination can engulf us.

“I should have done more.”

“I should have stopped it.”

But we didn’t; many times, we couldn’t.

If we were stripped powerless, in example, we were the abused children or spouse of our tormenter, what, really could we have done? We were surrounded by trap doors.

Status quo, routine, power, perfection, and an aesthetically pleasing image are all things that are of the utmost importance to abusive and dysfunctional people. They tend to not like their perfect little delusional world disrupted, in any way. Yet, they have no thought or issue, whatsoever, with disrupting ours, for their sakes. In their minds, they may think, “That is to be expected. Of course, they would do this for me, for the family, for the business, for the team, etcetera…”

You self-abandoned. (Not just a good job here, but a GREAT job! Atta Boy! Atta Girl!)

This can be the most painful, unexpressed message “You did your part” can represent to us.

It is about betraying the self, whether that is a one-time event, a frequent reality, or the daily norm.  We become the sacrificial lamb, the scapegoat, the person who “takes one for the team,” the selfless savior whose response is “for the greater good.” Perhaps, no one, outright, asked you and I do this, but it is always, somehow, understood that we would fall in line.

Of course we would do this because 1) we supposedly have no issue or problem in doing so, 2) we love someone or something so much, that it is not a chore to sacrifice ourselves, 3) we “owe” it to whatever person, family, job, organization or toxic system to offer our devoted duty, and 4) we understand, and it is agreed upon widely, that we have no right to our own lives. It is agreed upon our purpose is to serve “other,” not explore and live our own lives, in and of themselves.

This is, perhaps, the most damaging subtext of “You did your part.” It negates you and I completely. We are not the unique individuals; we are simply a tool to be used at another’s discretion. Therefore, we believe we need to endure abuse, mistreatment, exploitation, lack of love, dignity, honesty, joy and personal needs, goals, and dreams because, somehow, someone else’s determination tells us that is “the right thing to do.”

“Doing our part” is the “right” thing to do. Living our lives, apart from that mandate, therefore, is the absolute “wrong” thing to do. It is tantamount, sometimes, to the worst possible sin, choice, result, and worst-case scenario that could ever exist in all of mankind. It can be sold as that extreme, black and white thinking, all to shame, manipulate, and control us. It certainly is not done for our benefit. The most we could hope for, within this context, is to be an afterthought.

Again, it is about “other,” the all-important “other,” too valuable to not be loved, worshipped, obeyed, sacrificed for and self-abandoned for.

How dare we challenge this universal truth! How dare we turn heretic, become a Judas, and become someone who invokes mutiny and treason?

What IS Our Part, Anyway?

This is the maddening question we ask ourselves. Many of us feel like we’re walking a tightrope between love and abuse, kindness and exploitation, showing compassion and being manipulated, doing what’s needed and doing what’s best and healthiest. Many of us fall off the tightrope in the process.

Perhaps, the short answer lies in our gut response in the moment of expectation and pressure to tow the line.

How do we feel? Are we happy to do something? Joyful? Excited?

Or do we feel obligated, afraid, drained, invisible, and resentful?

Would we be comprising our personal values, morals, and integrity?

If we are conflicted or soured about what is being asked of us, it’s generally a good indicator that it is not good for us.

That’s a hard pill to swallow. Ask yourself the question, “Is this good for me?” Have a person or a situation in mind when you ask the question? What’s your first answer: yes or no?

Don’t get mired in story, history, or explanation. Is this something you want to do?

We can squirm at the prospect of thinking it’s not valid enough of a reason to have it come down to something like, “I don’t want to do it.” We can rationalize that life has lots of things we don’t want to do, but we do them in the name of being responsible adults.

But this is not that.

Doing tedious, menial tasks, like taking out the garbage or doing the laundry, typically, don’t throw into question, “am I a horrible, weak person?” There’s usually no shame attached to the chores of everyday life.

And there’s generally no sense of powerlessness or helplessness, either. No warring mixed emotions, no terror, no soul-crushing guilt. We just do the unpleasant task and move on.

“You did your part,” however, almost always has a nagging, trapped, confused, and compromising quality to it. We come away from it feeling worse, not better, about ourselves in the process.

And that’s the red alert; that’s the deal breaker.

We need to do our part, to honor and respect ourselves, and heed that. We need to take care of ourselves. We are worth doing so.

Copyright © 2021 by Sheryle Cruse


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