Back in November a number of abuse and domestic violence survivors I knew voted for President Trump. At first this baffled me: weren’t we all on the same page? Didn’t we all agree that the man is nothing short of the Abuser in Chief?
But a deeper investigation and series of interviews illuminated a great deal. I gained a sobering, nuanced perspective on the motives of those who chose differently and found that their reasons overlapped with many I have myself held. None of the people I spoke to supported tyranny or selfish gain, nor were they blind to or indulgent of Trump’s evils. What they were was desperate. They felt helpless and scared, and serious unmet needs compelled them to uphold a figure of power they could only hope would rescue them.
I couldn’t share this hope then, and the current state of affairs makes me ache at the thought of just how badly it appears to have been misplaced. But I can’t be angry at anyone for it. I empathize, having done similar things.
You see, my father declared everything his children owned — our money, our personal property, our privacy, our major and minor decisions — belonged to him. And if we crossed him? I saw what happened to my siblings when they tried. Two were kicked out of the house; one ended up on the streets. They weren’t even legal adults.
So my reasoning was simple: Do what he wants. I had no means of escape, nowhere else to go, no other power or authority coming to save me.
I would say the vast majority of survivors, if not all of us, have at some point found ourselves backed into a corner with no other recourse. We back the abuser because there is no one else to turn to, and by placating him, we might survive another day. It’s our only option.
I wrote about my findings at Baptist News Global (from which I’ve pulled the previous quote), encouraging others within the abuse survivor community not to castigate those among us who still feel compelled to seek succor from the unsafe and untrustworthy:
In the aftermath of the election, the word from fellow advocates ranged from silent grief and dumbfounded pain to aggressive vitriol. Some went so far as to target the people they’ve committed to helping, either lumping red-voting victims in with the monolith they characterize as idiotic and morally bankrupt or calling out the survivor quadrant specifically as traitors to our cause.
“Haven’t you learned anything? Why would you go back? You’re throwing away everything we’ve worked so hard to build!”
We become the exact thing she needs most to get free from: another person controlling her life.
I encourage you to read the rest of the piece and drop any thoughts you have in response below.
I didn’t note this in the article, but the fact is that even when we do escape, we tend to parse the rest of the world through the same lens for a long time after. So when survivors are still choosing to ally themselves with the toxic strong man, though we can see how they wouldn’t necessarily have to, let’s not blame them. Let’s understand how the option might still seem non-negotiable. And then let’s step forward to provide better options when and how we can, to show them, gently, that it’s no longer always like that.
Our survivor sisters and brothers are not our enemy. They need us now more than ever, and the fact is, we need them.
We are going to have to have hard conversations about where things are headed, what we need to do about it now that the dice have been cast. But we can’t do that through alienating blame. Instead, we must meet their needs and help them cultivate a strong imagination for substantial hope that lies fully apart from an abusive, power-over dynamic. We do this by showing them ourselves what that looks like. That means leaving harsh judgment, ridicule, and withdrawal behind. It means empathizing with their fears and insecurities. It means listening, first, throughout, always, without critique, and then simply and calmly sharing resources or other ways of thinking. It means identifying with one another, not driving each other away.
As Cole Arthur Riley says, we get free together.
Stephanie, I appreciate you sharing this. As I've been watching Trump's actions over the last two weeks, I'm feeling more and more dread about four more years under his governance. Watching and hearing the news of mass deportations, it's easy for me to feel furious with anyone who voted for him.
And yet, I also recognize why some people might--rightly or wrongly--choose to vote for him. The rhetoric on the left has increasingly turned to calling Trump voters stupid and moronic. Unfortunately, this only serves to further isolate and antagonize those on the right. I firmly believe that the attitude of the left towards Trump's supporters only served to galvanize them into giving him a second term. And let's not forget how the left tried to convince us until the eleventh-and-a-half hour that a forgetful 82-year-old was our only possible hope to defeat Trump.
We have a choice in the coming years. We can allow hatred, resentment, and isolation to overtake our souls, or we can do our best to be beacons of love. Our choice will determine whether we survive to enjoy better days.