Tag: Discrediting Victims

  • “She’s Just Difficult” — The Misconception About Abused Women

    One of the most damaging lies ever told about women who have survived abuse is that they are too much. Too emotional. Too guarded. Too hard to love. Too sensitive.

    It’s a narrative that doesn’t just misunderstand trauma—it weaponizes it.

    Women who have been abused aren’t difficult. They are cautious. They are layered. They are learning to navigate a world that has, more than once, proven unsafe.

    When someone has experienced betrayal from someone who once said, “I love you,” trust doesn’t come easily. That’s not dysfunction—that’s self-preservation.

    When someone has been blamed, degraded, gaslighted, and manipulated, they may flinch at raised voices, silence in the middle of an argument or changes in tone. That’s not drama; it’s a nervous system trying to protect itself.

    When someone has been repeatedly told they are the problem, they may need more clarity, reassurance, and space to process. That’s not insecurity; it’s unlearning years of emotional warfare.

    Yet society often looks at these survivors and says, “She’s damaged.”“She’s just too broken.” “She’s hard to love.”

    But what if the truth is the opposite?

    What if she’s not hard to love—what if she needs to be loved right? With consistency, gentleness, patience, and truth.

    What if the real issue isn’t that she’s difficult but that most people have no idea how to love someone who’s had to survive what she has?

    It takes strength to open up again after betrayal, courage to choose vulnerability after being shamed for your feelings, and immense faith to love again when love was the very thing that hurt you most.

    The women who have walked through abuse and still show up with open hearts, hopeful spirits, and a willingness to heal—those women are not difficult.

    They are remarkable.

    They are resilient.

    And they deserve to be seen not as burdens but as humans. As survivors. As daughters of God doing the hard work of healing.

    If you’re one of those women, hear this:

    You are not hard to love. You are learning how to trust. You are allowed to have boundaries, emotions, and needs. And you are worthy—not despite your story, but because of it.

    It’s time to bury the lie that trauma makes someone unlovable. The truth? It reveals the depth of a soul that has survived hell and is still choosing to hope.

    That kind of woman isn’t too much. She’s extraordinary.

  • “She’s Crazy” — The Weaponizing of Mental Health to Discredit Survivors

    One of the oldest tricks in the abuser’s playbook is to shift the focus from their behaviour to their victim’s mental state.

    “She has issues.”

    “She needs help.”

    “She overreacts.”

    “She’s unstable.”

    If you’ve ever heard a version of this—especially coming from someone who’s been accused of abuse—pause and pay attention. Because this narrative isn’t just damaging… it’s calculated.

    Why Abusers Use This Tactic

    When an abuser senses that their mask is slipping—that someone might start asking questions or that their victim may begin speaking out—they often try to discredit the victim preemptively. One of the most effective ways to do this? Question their mental health.

    Because if they can convince others that you’re “crazy,” then your version of events doesn’t matter. If they can paint you as unstable, they never have to take responsibility for what they did.

    It’s not just manipulation. It’s character assassination. And it’s cruel.

    The Truth About Trauma

    Trauma does affect mental health. When someone’s been gaslighted, lied to, manipulated, isolated, and abused—they may cry more easily. They may feel anxious. They may struggle with trust. They may seem “off” or “emotional.” And guess what? That’s not evidence of instability. That’s evidence of survival.

    But abusers know how to weaponize the very symptoms they caused. They push you to the edge, then point to your reaction as the problem.

    “See how she acts? This is why I had to leave.”She’s always been difficult.”She needs therapy.”

    There is no mention of the years they chipped away at your sense of self. There is no mention of the lies, the betrayal, or the emotional whiplash. Just the neat, tidy version that makes them look like the rational one and you the wreck.

    The Danger of Believing Only What You See

    The person who appears calm and composed isn’t always innocent. And the person who is emotional, broken, or angry isn’t always unstable—they’re often telling the truth.

    Abusers are often charming in public and cruel in private. They know how to perform. They know how to win people over. And they know that if they can get others to doubt your mental state, they don’t have to answer for what they did.

    So they go on a quiet campaign: subtle comments, sighs of concern, and “just trying to help.” The real victim sits alone, wondering why no one believes them.

    What You Can Do

    If someone comes to you saying they were abused, don’t dismiss them because the other person seems “so nice” or “put together.” Don’t be quick to assume that emotional expression means instability. Listen. Ask questions. Be discerning.

    And if you are the one who’s been labelled “crazy,”—you’re not alone.

    You’re not crazy for crying. You’re not crazy for being angry. You’re not crazy for finally speaking up.

    You’re human. You’ve been hurt. And you’re still standing, which proves your strength, not your weakness.

    God Sees What People Can’t

    People may be fooled by performance, but God is not. He sees what is done in secret, hears what is whispered in the dark, and is near the brokenhearted—not the ones who pretend to be whole while breaking others.

    If you’ve been discredited, misjudged, or dismissed, know this: Your truth still matters. Your voice still matters. And healing is still possible—even after the world turned its back.

    You don’t need to convince everyone. You don’t need to defend your sanity. You don’t need to carry their lies.

    Let God be your defender. He sees, knows, and will bring justice in His perfect time.

  • “They Would Never Do That” — What That Really Means

    “They would never do that.”

    It’s a phrase we hear often—spoken with confidence, certainty, and sometimes even indignation. It’s usually uttered by someone defending someone they know or believe they can vouch for. But here’s the truth that often goes unspoken:

    “They would never do that” usually means, “They’ve never done it to me.”

    And that’s a huge difference.

    We all interpret people through the lens of our own experiences with them. If someone has only ever been kind to you, it’s natural to assume they are kind. If they’ve never lied to you, you believe they are honest. If they’ve never harmed you, you might conclude they are safe. But what if they only treat you that way because there’s nothing for them to gain by mistreating you?

    What if their cruelty is reserved for those closest to them—the ones they feel they can control, manipulate, or silence?

    People are not always consistent across relationships. Abusers don’t abuse everyone. Manipulators aren’t always obvious. Some of the most harmful people are also the most charming, polite, generous, and helpful—when it serves them.

    So when someone says, “They would never do that,” they’re not stating the truth. They’re making a statement about their personal experience. And while personal experience matters, it is not the whole picture.

    It’s easy to dismiss a victim’s account when it doesn’t align with what we’ve seen. But just because you haven’t seen it doesn’t mean it hasn’t happened. Just because they smile at you doesn’t mean they don’t scream at someone else behind closed doors. Just because they seem godly in church doesn’t mean they aren’t a nightmare at home.

    Abusers wear masks. And sometimes, those masks are so convincing that even the most discerning people can be fooled.

    The real danger in saying “they would never do that” is that it shuts down conversation. It invalidates the lived experience of someone who did witness it. Someone who was on the receiving end. It implies that your experience with the person outweighs theirs—as if proximity to goodness cancels out proximity to pain.

    But both realities can coexist. A person can be kind to some and cruel to others. They can be generous with friends and controlling with family. They can charm a crowd and terrorize their partner.

    If someone is brave enough to speak up and say, “They did this to me,” the response should not be, “They would never.” The response should be, “Tell me what happened.” It should be one of curiosity, not condemnation—compassion, not dismissal.

    The truth is, many victims stay silent for years because they’ve heard that exact phrase echo in the background: They would never. And in their minds, that means no one would believe them. So they suffer quietly. They shrink. They question themselves. They internalize shame that never belonged to them.

    So let’s change the narrative.

    Instead of insisting on what someone would or wouldn’t do, let’s acknowledge what we don’t know. Let’s recognize that people show different sides to different people. Let’s create a world where someone can share their story without fear of being met with disbelief.

    Because when we say, “They would never,” we’re really saying, “I choose not to believe you.”

    And that choice has consequences.

    You don’t have to have seen it for it to be true. You don’t have to understand it for it to matter. You have to listen—with humility, empathy, and the awareness that sometimes, what we think we know is only part of the story.

    Let’s stop silencing survivors with our certainty. Let’s start believing that just because they never did it to you doesn’t mean they didn’t do it to someone.