Why Do Trolls Not Understand That Celebs Are PEOPLE, Too?!

If there's one thing guaranteed to get my interest piqued, it's talk of my favourite ever girlband.  Yes, I'm talking about Ginger, Sporty, Baby, Scary and Posh: The Spice Girls.

A few days ago, I was scrolling through Facebook, paying very little attention to the photos of people's dinners/babies/cats/completed Christmas shopping lists and the "share this if your husband is the light of your life!!!1!!one!!" updates, when I stumbled upon a short video of Mel C (aka Sporty Spice) being interviewed by John Bishop for an upcoming TV show.  In the clip, Mel explained that whilst she had fond memories of being in the band, there was definitely bullying within the group and that she often found it very hard to deal with.  Mel was visibly upset as she spoke and, having experienced bullying myself, both at school and in the workplace, I felt for her.

And then I did a stupid thing.

I read the comments.

We all know that any online comment section is going to feature the worst of humanity, collected together like flies on sh!t.  I was expecting nasty comments about how Mel C was "the least talented one" (like hell is she; she's had a musical theatre career!) or jibes about her looks (beauty is subjective and whilst I've always thought Mel to be very pretty, I knew there would be cruel folk in the comments, making her out to be "Ugly Spice").  But beyond all that, I also expected that there would be people discussing what Mel was saying in the clip and perhaps expressing some sympathy.

And yet...

It just wasn't happening.  What was happening was some spectacular "othering" of this woman, based on nothing more than the fact that she's famous.

"I was bullied at work," one woman crowed, "and it really WAS Hell for ME, because I didn't have the luxury of being rich and famous, like Mel did!  She should try living MY life!"

"Still accepted all her royalty checks, didn't she?!" A man agreed.  "So it can't have been that bad!"

Hang on a second, let me get something straight...  Are we seriously implying that being "rich and famous" somehow buffers you from all of life's negative experiences?  And are we supposed to believe that just because a person gets on with their job, despite the problems they're having within it, the problems are somehow less real?!

The idea that being wealthy, successful and well known means that you can't possibly suffer the way that "normal" people do is utterly ludicrous.  Look at Robin Williams.  Chester Bennington.  L'Wren Scott.  These were all people who had achieved success in their careers, had reached a certain level of fame and were apparently much better off than most of us will ever be.  And yet all of them took their own lives.

Yes, fame can bring you money, meaning that you might not suffer the same financial concerns that plague many regular people.  And of course, there must be something nice about making headway in your chosen career to the point that you are known for it, potentially on a global stage.

But fame is not a bandage for all of life's wounds.  A break up, a personal illness or - yes - bullying, still affects a person, regardless of how many people know their names, or how many zeros are on the end of their pay check.

In fact, when life is giving you a rough time - when you are going through some kind of personal trauma - fame is almost certainly salt in that wound, rather than any kind of bandage.  

Just like both Mel C and the harsh woman in the comment section, I've been bullied in the workplace.  I know how much I hated having to smile and pretend I was fine just in front of the parents bringing their kids to the pre-school I was working at (and of course, the kids themselves).  If I'd had cameras thrust in my face and reporters desperately chasing me for a story, let alone fans - and detractors - talking at length about how easy my life must be, because I had wealth and fame, I can only begin to imagine how much worse the pain would have been.  

When people talk the way that woman in the comment section did, they don't make a clear, or in any way valid point about fame cushioning celebrities from life's problems.  What they do do, is make it clear they have a pretty massive chip on their shoulder about their own lack of wealth, success or notoriety.

"Well, I had it much worse, because I'm not rich and famous!" is not a meaningful or helpful contribution to a conversation.  It's the kind of thing a jealous kid says, because their next door neighbour's bike is newer and shinier than theirs.

Reading that woman's comment made me upset and angry that there are people in the world who genuinely seem to believe that when you accept fame and fortune into your life, you somehow also agree to lose your human capacity to feel, as well as your right to any kind of sympathy, should something bad happen.

Aaaaaand then I read the guy's comment.

I originally put it on a par with the woman's ridiculous bleating about celebs having it easier because they're celebs, but in the wake of the Harvey Weinstein allegations, it feels far worse.

The guy was, if you recall, suggesting that Mel shouldn't have carried on accepting her royalties, if she was that unhappy in her job.

I get that Mel C was in a place of luxury, in as much as she was probably earning a pretty decent amount and was therefore more likely to be able to quit her job and not have to worry about being broke as a result.  But she'd still receive royalties from the songs she recorded with the group, if she went the way of Geri and left.  So, was this guy suggesting she shouldn't accept those payments, either?  By way of somehow proving herself?!  And who the hell does she have to prove herself to, anyway?!

When I was being bullied in my old job, I still took my wages home when they were given to me.  The money was one of the things that kept my life stable; despite what was going on at work, my wages meant that I could afford to do things outside of my job, that took away some of the sadness I'd been feeling.  It helped me to keep living my life.  In the end, when I did hand in my notice, with no job in place to go to next, I ended up being doubly depressed, because by then, not only had I been bullied out of a job I once really loved, but I was also financially crippled as a result!

I mentioned Harvey Weinstein above, because the guy in the Mel C comment thread was echoing sentiments I've seen written by others (many men and some women) about the actresses who've made allegations against the producer.

"If they were willing to prostitute themselves for a job in the first place, they can't whine and stamp their little feet about it now," one guy ranted in - you guessed it - another Facebook comment thread.

I feel a little rage break is needed...

...And we're back.

Victim-blaming is of the most gross, hurtful and depressingly common reactions to stories of abuse or accusations of sexually predatory behaviour.  And it seems to me that yet again, the guys who are slinging these harsh words around are forgetting that they're talking about real people.   Sure, real people who work in Hollywood, live in mansions and are hugely famous, but still people.

If an actress comes across one of the most powerful and influential producers in Hollywood and is purposefully intimidated or sexually advanced upon by him, she will be aware of his standing.  Aware of his ability to make and break careers.  Aware of the power he wields, if it comes to her word against his.  Possibly, she may even be aware of previous allegations that hadn't yet seemed to have harmed his glittering career.  It's not necessarily a case of should she speak out, but does she feel able to?  Does she think she'll be believed?  Does she even think it'll change anything?

The circumstances may be different, but at heart, Weinstein preying on actresses as he's alleged to have done, is not so far away from the company boss, harassing the young intern, just starting out in her career.  It's still a person in a position of enormous power, behaving in a way that, as a result of his seniority, he believes can be shrugged off as "banter."  It's still a question of whether that intern feels she'll be belittled and laughed at if she speaks out.  "Oh, take no notice, Geoff's just got a bit of an eye for the ladies."

The fear, shame, embarrassment and anger felt by that young intern are no different to the emotions an actress might feel when groped and harassed by a powerful, famous producer or director.  And it seems that Hollywood has that same "office mentality" of turning a blind eye and tutting "well, you know what he's like..."

I'm tired of reading these kinds of comments every time a famous person speaks out about a personal problem.  I'm sick of people tutting and shaking their heads because the person talking just happens to be a celebrity, as though fame insulates them from harmful experiences.

Yes, being famous enough to have a fanbase must be wonderful.

Yes, having more money than you or I will ever probably have in our lives must mean financial aspects of life are a lot easier to handle.

But fame alone doesn't mean that a person no longer feels things.  It doesn't prevent them from experiencing heartache, pain or suffering.  Fame doesn't mean that a person can't be a victim of something or someone, and speaking out about bad experiences should be applauded, rather than mocked.  

We're all people and we all deserve to be listened to and believed, regardless of what job we do and how much cash is in our bank accounts.  

Why Are We STILL Asking The Wrong Questions About Male Violence?!

The above picture has been widely circulated on social media in the last few days.  It depicts a 60 year old woman, who was viciously beaten by a thug in his 20s, after she turned down his advances.  The woman, who was visiting London from Austria, politely asked the man to leave her alone and was then grabbed and punched repeatedly in the face, causing injuries that will require surgery.

That such an appalling incident took place is grotesque enough.  But today, Ian Payne, a broadcaster on London's LBC radio station, posted a tweet that speaks volumes about why these things keep happening...

There is something massively wrong, here.  Let me spell it out for you:

YOU ARE ASKING THE WRONG QUESTION.

This woman politely asked a man to leave her alone when he followed her and kept trying to "chat her up."  His response was to savagely beat her.  And you seriously want to know how else we think she should have behaved?!

Let me break it down for you.

That woman could have sworn at the guy.  She could have yelled "GET OUT OF MY FACE."  She could have stuck her middle finger up and sashayed away.  It doesn't matter how she reacted to his unwanted advances.  She did not owe him anything.  He made the decision to start trying to chat her up and, when she politely turned him down, he made the decision to respond with violence.  He decided to punch her in the face, over and over again.

To ask the question "how should women reject unwanted advances?" places blame on us.  The women.  You are, effectively, blaming a 60 year old woman for her own assault.  Because your question implies that she should have done something differently.

It's not new.  When a woman is raped, we've become depressingly used to hearing questions like "what was she wearing?" or "had she been drinking?"  NEVER do we hear: "Why did he feel entitled to rape her?"  The questions are rarely about the man's decisions.  They're almost exclusively about the behaviour of the woman in question.  And that is wrong.

The thug who beat this poor woman does not deserve the luxury of seeing people pick over the bones of his victim's actions.  He does not deserve to be "let off the hook" by an audience of fellow men, asking how women should better ensure against this type of thing.

There are questions that need to be asked, in the wake of this shocking incident.  Questions such as:

• "Why did this man feel so entitled to this woman's body that rejection was no longer an option he was willing to accept from her?"

• "Why was this man so quick to decide that violence was an acceptable response to her exercising her right to say no?"

• "What changes do we need to make to ensure that women are treated with equal respect and that violence against them is no longer deemed such a depressingly popular option?

• "How can we challenge the misogynistic view that women are property, to be treated any way men see fit?"

All of those questions are valid and need answering.  Not only for women, but for men.  Because, thankfully, a lot of the responses to the tweet Ian Payne posted, were from men who were just as infuriated by the question as I was.  They want to know why the blame has been subtly shifted from the shoulders of the perpetrator of this attack, to those of his victim - and women in general.  Again.

In a patriarchal society, we are too quick to shift blame onto the women who are attacked, in order to avoid discussing male entitlement, male violence or misogyny.  Until we - as a whole - are able to look at the situation honestly and ask the necessary questions, we will never end male violence against women.  How can we, if we barely acknowledge it exists?  How can we, if we're genuinely asking listeners to a radio station to call in with their ideas as to how women should reject unwanted advances, rather than asking how to ensure that men handle that rejection - however it comes - without resorting to violence in the first place?

Victim-blaming is like placing a sticking plaster on a gaping wound.  It might hold it together for a short while, but it's not strong enough to last.  You need stitches.  It takes time to really sort out the problem.

Attacks like the one in London last week are not anywhere near as rare as they should be.  And they will not dwindle in numbers if we continue to apply a sticking plaster to this wound.  It's time to tackle the real problem.

It's time to start asking the right questions, even if the answers make us uncomfortable.  Only when we place blame on the attackers, rather than their victims (or potential future victims) can we really start to solve the issue.

As long as we're asking the wrong questions, nothing will ever change.

  

Standing Up For Your Beliefs

Every now and then, we find ourselves in a position where we have to defend our views or beliefs.  It's not always easy, particularly if the person causing us to defend ourselves is behaving in an aggressive manner.  But the feeling you get from just being able to say "actually, I stand by my opinions and here's why," is one that everyone should experience.  Because despite it being scary, voicing your beliefs is enormously empowering.

Obviously, there's a caveat - if you could be personally endangered by speaking out against something/someone, or by defending a controversial opinion, then my guidance is always towards self-preservation.  But, if you are in a position to be able to defend yourself and your views, I can't recommend it highly enough.

On Thursday, I travelled to London for the UK premiere of Fifty Shades Darker.  Now, I know that EL James' book series was phenomenally popular and that the first movie made a whole heap of cash at the box office, despite being almost universally panned.  But popularity does not necessarily equate with "good."  And, in my view, Fifty Shades as a franchise, is guilty of promoting emotional and psychological abuse as romance, completely misrepresenting safe, consensual BDSM and perpetuating harmful abuse myths.  For those reasons, I was not in London to whoop and cheer along with the crowd gathered in Leicester Square on Thursday night, but to protest against it.

Before Thursday night, I had never protested anything.  Well, you know, I've ranted a lot about hundreds of things, but I've never gone out with a banner, with the intention of standing up against someone or something and saying "I don't believe this is right."

What I'm trying to say is, I was nervous.  I was nervous because of the way I've been treated online for suggesting that there's abuse in Fifty Shades.  Right here on my own blog, I've been told I'm a "disgrace of a human being."  I've had fans of the series contact me on Twitter to suggest that "it's about time Mr Grey beat the stupidity out of" me.  I've been called everything from a "prude" (hahahahaaa, so far from being true...) to a "jealous wannabe author" (again, couldn't be further from the truth).  So, knowing how difficult it can be to challenge something so almost-universally popular - and knowing how soul-destroying it is to receive threats of assault, rape or even death just for speaking against it (because yep, there are apparently many fans of Fifty Shades who turn to abuse just as fast as their hero does), I was wary of taking my views out into the real world.

Thankfully, I wasn't going alone.  And, rather than use my fellow protestors as human shields, I was simply able to draw comfort from their presence.  Knowing that you're not alone in thinking or feeling the way you do is, of itself, an enormous source of strength.  So, despite my nerves, being part of a group of strong women, all unafraid to voice their opinions, helped me to realise that whatever was thrown at us, we'd be okay.

And yes, we got a bit of flack.  The usual, incredibly poorly thought out fan arguments were tossed our way:

• "If it was abuse, nobody would buy it." - Yeeeaaaaah, that's not how abuse works, dearie.  It's never so blatant that you just go "oh, that's abuse, let's all hate the abuser and call their behaviour out."  I was in a relationship in which I was emotionally and psychologically abused for more than a year and a half and not once did I call it "abuse."  Why?  Because abuse hides in plain sight.  It's insidious.  More often than not, you don't even recognise it when it happens to you - not at first, anyway.  So, the popularity of Fifty Shades doesn't make me think "oh, well it simply can't be abuse, then..."  It merely highlights how much further education is needed on the subject of abuse, for us to be able to recognise it clearly as a society.

• "It's just a book/movie!"  And a line of sex toys.  And a line of clothing.  And a range of wines.  And...  You get my point.  Besides which, nothing exists in a vacuum.  Just as popular culture is influenced by world events, societal views can be influenced by popular culture.  And so, when you have a work of fiction - in print or on screen - suggesting that abusive behaviours such as stalking, threats, manipulation, coercion and excessive, unwanted control are acceptable, excusable or even desirable, this has a knock-on effect.  And that knock-on effect is evidenced every time a fan of the Fifty Shades franchise uses a stereotypical abuse myth to casually dismiss the abuse in the series.  Such as...

• "If it was abuse, she would have left him!"  Erm, the dude who tracks her phone, has a file of personal, quite possibly illegally gained information on all his exes and who has already stalked her several times before is not someone I trust to allow Ana to leave, safely.  He may say in the third book that she can leave him if she wants to, but his actions are roughly ninety bajillion miles away from those words.  Besides which, I am so, so sick of the onus being put on the abused person to leave, rather than on the abuser to STOP BEHAVING ABUSIVELY.  There are hundreds of reasons why a person may not feel able or even willing to leave an abusive partner.  Suggesting it's not abuse if the person it's happening to doesn't leave is just victim-blaming.  And that's gross.

This gif basically encapsulates my feelings towards Christian Grey.

We had some other stuff yelled at us - one woman was utterly enraged at the idea that she might not meet her beloved Jamie Dornan, due to our protest happening opposite where she was standing, which, you know, I get how frustrating that must have been for her, but yelling expletives at us when we'd been told to stand there by Universal was kind of pointless...

But, despite some negativity towards us, what I discovered was that actually, most people aren't going to start yelling and screaming at you just for daring to have an opinion that goes against the grain.  Particularly if you can calmly explain why you hold that view.

And, as the celebrities disappeared down the red carpet and the crowd began to disperse, I was left feeling overwhelmingly glad that I had attended the protest and had the chance to make my views known.

Standing up for what you believe in won't always make you popular and it won't always be easy.  But that's a price worth paying for the sense of pride you get from having defended your views, particularly in the face of adversity.

I learned something on Thursday.  I learned never to let myself be too afraid to challenge things that I believe are wrong.  I learned to speak out when it's safe to do so.  And I learned that just doing those things makes you feel stronger and walk taller.  

And believe me, that's not easily achieved when you're only five feet tall...

Stop Excusing Hurtful Behaviour!

I recently read an article online (I'd link to it, but it made me rage-quit the Internet, without copying the page address), the gist of which was basically "everyone who behaves badly has a reason for their behaviour and we should be considerate and support them through it."

Now, that's a nice idea on the surface, perhaps, but this article was using bullying as their starting point.  It was suggesting that all bullies act the way they do because they're suffering some kind of great pain, or living with issues that they don't know how to deal with.  The unspoken message was that we should excuse bullies, because they only act badly because they're going through their own trauma.

And excuse me, but...

I've written here about my experiences of being bullied on the school bus and so this is a deeply personal subject for me.  I don't doubt that the people who made my life a living Hell were acting out because they had issues going on in their lives.  I'd like to think that no emotionally healthy person would ever spit at someone, or urge them to kill themselves, or tell them they're so ugly they don't deserve any form of love.  It's easier for me to believe that they were battling their own demons and that their behaviour came from a dark and unhappy place.  Otherwise I'm left with the knowledge that they simply took genuine enjoyment from pushing a twelve year old girl to a suicide attempt, and frankly, that's too evil to contemplate.

So, sure.  I'll go along with the "bullies act badly because they're going through their own crap" line.  

But it's not an excuse.  

I'm not going to sigh and shrug my shoulders, absolving abusive people of any responsibility (and bullying is a form of abuse, after all).  We all go through things in our lives that shape us and which sometimes cause huge emotional disturbances, but it's up to us how we deal with them.  We have to make a choice about the kind of person we want to be, regardless of what's happened to us in our history, or what's happening to us right now.  Sure, there are situations, illnesses and moments of emotional stress that cause us to lash out and snap at someone, or behave selfishly, or otherwise hurt someone's feelings.  But when that happens, it's up to us to recognise our own behaviour, apologise for it and make amends.  That is, if we choose to.

The thing with using any kind of personal trauma - be it illness (mental or physical), or just going through a really crappy time - as an excuse for bad behaviour is that a) it doesn't make it okay for a person to repeatedly behave badly without any kind of remorse and b) it assumes that becoming a lousy person is just the natural response to trauma.  Which is rubbish.

When I was being bullied, I was subjected to disgusting behaviour which caused me to fall into a deep depression, during which I lost all of my self-confidence.  Years later, I was still in a spiral of self-hatred and regularly dragged the pins from the badges I liked to stick on my bag, across my arms, leaving bumpy red scars, because I felt worthless and needed to feel a pain that was physical, rather than emotional.  

Regardless of what personal trauma my bullies had endured, I was now traumatised as a result of the way they treated me.  The difference between us is that I made the choice to try to never hurt another person the way they had hurt me.  And frankly, had I decided to become a bully myself, I wouldn't have deserved to be excused for it, because I was well aware of what it felt like to be on the receiving end; I would have had no excuse whatsoever for doling out that kind of abuse onto another person.

Fast forward into my twenties and I ended up in a relationship with a man who abused me.  And guess what?  He blamed his past traumas for his behaviour.  He expected me to swallow it as an excuse and, for a long time, I did just that.  But the truth is, whatever sadness was in his past, no matter what hurt he had experienced, he still made a choice to abuse me.  It wasn't inevitable.  And there isn't an excuse.

I have had enough of hearing reasons why we should excuse people when they behave in a manner that is selfish, inconsiderate or downright hurtful.

Yes, we should feel sympathy for a person who has experienced something sad or traumatic.  Yes, we should try to understand that there are certain circumstances in which a person may be under such stress that they snap and say something cruel, or behave selfishly; we should make some allowances for that, because frankly, if we didn't, then we could never expect anyone to make allowances for our own mistakes and let's face it, none of us are perfect.

But those allowances only stretch so far.  If a person is overly critical or cruel towards us and expects us just to take it because they have "issues," we're allowed to say "no, that's not okay."  If it's not just a one-off mistake which the person apologises for, but a prolonged catalogue of hurtful behaviour that said person seems to think they're entitled to exhibit, we are allowed to stand up to it.

Nothing - and I really do mean nothing - gives a person the right to treat people badly and yet be consistently "let off."  We all have to take responsibility for our actions and own up to our mistakes.  

We may not have a choice about the demons from our past that have shaped our character.  But we do have a choice as to the way we treat others.

Let's make the right one.

Five Years FREE - What Have I Learnt?

FREEEEEEDOM!

Five years ago today, I wrote a Facebook status.  It said simply:

"Deleted him from my friend list.  And my phone.  And my life."

It could have been just a random post break-up status, but this was much more than that.  This was me parting company with the man who had abused me for well over a year and a half.

Sure, there was contact after that point.  An emotionally confusing phone call in November, which took me straight back to square one, in terms of healing, plus the odd compulsive glance at his Facebook page (until I did the sensible thing and blocked him).  But this was the moment that I realised that I had to wrench myself away from him, no matter how hard it was.  It was time to rebuild my life again.  Time to rebuild me again.

I would have been disappointed in myself had I not made a Sims reference, here.

Five years later, I am a different person.  I may look pretty similar, but a whole heap of things have changed dramatically - and there's no going back.  99% of those changes are positive, too.  Not only am I free from the guy who manipulated, controlled, threatened and emotionally drained me, but I'm a new and improved version of me, to boot.  Win-win!

I wanted to celebrate this milestone in some way, but I struggled to decide how, for a while.  I mean, firstly, I panicked that by even talking about it five years later, a few people would wrongly assume that I was somehow holding onto my victimhood.  Then, I realised something important: by focusing on the positive changes I've made and the lessons I've learned in the last five years, I'm very much throwing my victimhood under the proverbial bus.  I'm okay.  I'm improved.  I'm not clinging on to anything sorrowful and I haven't been for a while.  More importantly, the people who might think that I was clinging on to some kind of victim status - that just by openly talking about abuse, I might be expecting everyone to get their imaginary violins out and weep profusely for me - are exactly the kind of people who probably know very little about abuse in the first place and have no sense of tact, whatsoever.  

Even more importantly, I realised that talking about the lessons I've learnt in the last five years could actually help people who are still travelling the difficult road I walked to get here.  I know that I appreciated the words of fellow survivors hugely whilst I pieced my life back together again, so if I can help anyone else, I very much want to.

So... What have I learnt, over the last five years?

1. Recovery is a LONG journey.  And there are no shortcuts.

Thankfully, where we're going, we don't need roads...

There comes a point - any time from a few weeks to a few months - after leaving an abusive person, where you think: "This has to be it, right?  I've done the whole five stages of grief thing, I'm over it now, aren't I?!"  And then, something - often something seemingly insignificant - triggers you and makes you realise that you still have a long way to go.  

Let's not forget, too:  Even if you think you've been completely honest with yourself about what you went through, there is a very real chance that a part of your brain has been keeping the worst of it from you.  And it can keep those memories under lock and key for as long as it takes for you to be strong enough to deal with them.  I can recall having horrific things come flooding back to me as long as a year and a half after leaving my ex.  I couldn't believe I'd "forgotten" such awful experiences, but in actual fact I hadn't; my subconscious brain just knew I wasn't ready to reminisce over the very worst of what I'd been through, just yet.  Once I was, the memories I never even realised I was suppressing came back.  And yes, with them came the emotions, the crying, the anger, the fear, the self-blame... All of it, in a big whoosh of the very worst kind.  And after that, I had to "get over it" all over again.

There is no set time frame for getting over abuse.  It could take months.  It could take years.  The fact is, it's not something you can predict, nor is it something anyone in your life can impose on you.  I had people I love say things like: "It's been two years, you should be over it, by now."  The fact is, you're not over it until you know you're ready to say you are.  And that's going to take as long as needs to.

2.  Actually, you don't entirely ever "get over it."

I know, right?!

Okay, so I know I said that recovery is like a long journey and that implies that there's an end to that journey, but...  Well, there is, but imagine that before setting out on that journey, you got a tattoo.  When you reach wherever it is you want to go, you still have that tattoo, right?  It doesn't rub off, you just get used to it - so used to it, in fact, that sometimes you barely know it's there.

That's what recovering from abuse is like.  There's an end point, at which you feel like you're over it and you're stronger and can move on with your life.  But that tattoo hasn't gone anywhere and neither has the experience you went through.  You're always going to have the odd moment where a song, a place or even a smell triggers a memory, or occasionally, you'll recall something and feel angry or sad about what you went through.  That's okay!  You know you're where you need to be when those memories or feelings don't set you way back (at least, not for longer than a day, if it's a really bad memory).  You'll still have a reaction to them - that's totally normal - but you won't go through the whole "it was my fault, I should have tried harder, maybe I deserved it, I will never be happy again..." routine.  Your reaction to the memory or the event will be different.  You'll be mad not at yourself, but at the person who abused you.  You'll be sad for yourself, but you'll know that you didn't deserve it and you'll be pleased when you remember what a good place you're in now.  

When you go through abuse, it inevitably changes you in some way.  The person you are afterwards might not be exactly the same as the person you were before.  You carry those changes forwards in whatever you do next.  That's the tattoo you got, before you embarked on the journey of recovery.  It might be the kind of naff inking you'd get at a dodgy parlour that accepts drunk people going under the needle, but it's a permanent reminder, nonetheless.  There's no removal procedure.  

You can get over it, to a degree, but it'll always be a part of you.

3. Some people just DO NOT GET IT.

What are you gonna do about it?!

People are, on the whole, a pretty decent bunch.  But there will always be folk who think of tactfulness the same way they think of Donald Trump's over-the-top spray tan: ridiculous and unnecessary.

I discovered this early on, when I went on a date, just a couple of weeks after leaving my ex (big mistake; I wasn't ready and the guy was weird in a BAD WAY).  I wasn't using the term "abuse" for what happened to me, yet, because I was still in that very early stage, during which I blamed myself for much of what happened and parroted my ex's excuses for his behaviour to anyone who'd listen.  On the date, the guy asked me how my last relationship had ended and, conscious that my ex's behaviour had been very bad and self-aware enough to know that I wasn't really to blame for it, I went with: "He told me he loved me, couldn't live without me, needed me in his life and so on... But then claimed we weren't in a relationship and he could sleep with anyone else he wanted and I wasn't allowed to feel jealous, because I was just a f*ck buddy."

I won't lie, I was kind of hoping for my date to scoff about what an asshole my ex obviously was.  Instead, he shrugged and said: "Well, some guys don't want to commit and you can't force them."

And at that point, as far as I was concerned, we could quite cheerfully have gotten the bill and called it a day.

Since then, I've actually spoken to people - for a wide variety of reasons (it's not exactly my go-to conversation-starter) - about what really happened to me and have been shocked by the responses a minority have shown.  They've ranged from: "Yeah, but it wasn't proper abuse unless he beat you as well," to: "I'm sorry for what you experienced, but I think you need to get over it and accept that you maybe just didn't love him enough for him to treat you better."

Over the years, as I've  continued to recover and grow into a stronger, better person, my responses have calmed from: "F*ck you AND the demonic Hell beast you rode in on" to: "I don't think you can judge my situation, having not lived it.  Asshole."  It's a work in progress.

Look, some people are just going to be tactless, morally superior and arsey.  That's just a fact of life.  Having actually experienced something horrific isn't, sadly, enough to protect you from those idiots.  They're going to listen to what you have to say and scoff, because they are the centre of their world and they're not interested in you or your past, particularly if you meet them online, during any kind of argument that touches on the subject of abuse.  Because, as we should all know by now, the Internet is the place in which the worst trolls live.

Just remember that their lack of consideration for anyone's feelings but their own doesn't magically make them right.  The majority of people you're brave enough to open up to are going to be kind, helpful and supportive.  The people that aren't are not worth your frustration. 

Be like Elsa.

4. There will be people who think certain aspects of abuse are somehow "sexy."

Four words, guys: Fifty Shades Of Grey.

Regular readers already know how utterly gross I find EL James' atrociously-written love-letter to abusive men all over the world, so let's just leave it at this: there will be books, films, fan-fiction, music and other forms of art, in which stalking is portrayed as "passionate."  In which an excessive level of control is portrayed as "protective," regardless of whether the person on the receiving end wants to be told what to do, eat, wear or say.  There will be fiction in which consent is coerced (or the lack of consent is ignored altogether) and there will be fiction in which a person's abusive behaviour is "excused" with a plethora of unsatisfactory reasons, such as "a sad childhood," or "a passionate, volatile personality."

You'll reach a point in your recovery at which you realise that there is no excuse for abuse.  Ever.  Say it with me, everyone: THERE IS NO EXCUSE FOR ABUSE.

The "sad childhood" bullsh*t was my own abuser's excuse of choice and it took me years to realise that actually, as a grown adult, living independently, holding down a job, with friends who were from healthy backgrounds and who were in healthy relationships, he had every idea of how he was supposed to behave, he just chose to behave abusively.  And he also chose not to acknowledge his own abusive behaviour, meaning he was (and more than likely still is) incapable of change. 

Fiction will also tell you that "true love" means sticking around and working through the abusive person's violent, threatening, manipulative or controlling behaviour, until you magically love them into wellness.  Which is going to feel like one heck of a kick in the guts, seeing as by this point, you'll probably have spent a lot of time trying to accept that nothing you did was ever going to "cure" your abuser.  They have to recognise their own behaviour and want to change, which, sadly, many don't.

If you're anything like me, seeing your experiences romanticised and being accepted as "twu wuv" by millions of people is going to hurt.  Like, seriously a lot.  It might be "just a book," or "just a film" to some, but to you, it's your worst experience of your life, being treated as though it's something to aspire to.  You'll feel sick.  And you'll get angry, which is good, because nothing will change unless more and more people stand up and call these dangerous tropes out for what they are.

And yep, the fans (and authors) of fiction that romanticise abusive characters and harmful behaviour are all-too-often also the kinds of people I mentioned above:  THEY JUST DON'T GET IT.  They will protect their precious fictional characters at all cost, even if that cost is insulting an abuse survivor and discrediting their lived experience.

Just know when to hit the "block" button online and when to walk away in reality.  You won't win over the most deluded people and there's little point giving yourself a hernia, trying to.  Just keep highlighting the truth about abusive people, keep shouting back against dangerous tropes and really, really just don't read Fifty Shades.  It's not even worth buying as toilet paper.  Trust me.

5. You are under NO obligation to forgive your abuser.

I've talked about this on my blog, before.  People insist that forgiveness is a crucial part of moving on, but you know what?  If you're talking about abuse, it's really not.

You do not have to forgive a person who purposefully hurt you, whether emotionally or physically.  It is perfectly possible to move forwards with your life and reach a point where you're happy, free and stronger than you were before, without having to feel any kind of forgiveness for the way your abuser treated you.  Anyone who tells you differently is a moron, trust me.  The only person you need to forgive in this situation is yourself, because God only knows, abuse survivors are harder on themselves than most, especially in the first few days, weeks and months after leaving the abusive person.   "I shouldn't have said that," or "I could have tried harder," and "maybe if I had been better..." and several variations on that theme will rattle around your head and there comes a point where you have to silence those voices and realise that you were NOT at fault.  The abuser made the choice as to how they treated you.  You did not bring it on yourself and nothing you did differently would have changed the situation, because abusers will always move the goalposts, to ensure that you can never win.  Your slightest "foul" on them will always result in a massively over-the-top and unwarranted reaction.  Abusers truly are the Christiano Ronaldo's of the relationship world.

So, don't feel like you have to forgive them for the way they chose to behave.  If you reach a point where you can move forwards happily with your life without doing so, that's fine.  Nobody should ever tell you otherwise.

Of course, if you want to forgive your abuser (especially if yours is a rare case in which the abuser has recognised their behaviour and actually apologised for it), that's up to you as well.  Just please don't put pressure on yourself to try to forgive, if it's something you don't feel comfortable doing.  

Forgive yourself.  Nothing else matters.

6. You've got a clean slate, on which to write WHATEVER YOU WANT.

Abuse can, and all-too-often does kill.  If you're someone who has survived a relationship with a person who abused you and are now in a position to rebuild your life, you are massively fortunate.  Not because of what you experienced (obviously!), but because you have the chance to start over.

Yes, there's going to be a long and difficult road ahead, but my God it's one worth travelling.

You're going to reach a point at which you realise that you're free.  Completely and utterly.  Free to start over in any form you want.  You can choose what sort of person you want to be, without anyone controlling you.  You can decide if and when to start thinking about romance again and what sort of person you're looking for when it comes to future partners.  You can re-brand yourself physically - get a drastic haircut, a tattoo or change the way you dress.  Or, you can simply change your mindset, as you get stronger: know what sort of behaviour you will and won't tolerate in a relationship.  Understand what warning signs to be looking out for.  Realise your own worth and know that you're deserving of being treated properly.  Learn - albeit probably slowly - to trust again (yourself and others).  

What lies ahead of you are endless possibilities.  The world is yours, once you're free.  

Let's enjoy it!

What Amber Heard vs Johnny Depp Tells Us About How Society STILL Sees Abuse...

Most of you have probably heard all about Johnny Depp and Amber Heard's marriage break-up, amid rumours of domestic violence.  Most of you have probably got an opinion on it.  A lot of you - whether you realise it or not - will have had that opinion shaped by the media and by societal beliefs when it comes to abuse.

Don't believe me?  Just Google it.  That's what I did, when I decided to write this blog piece and I was pretty horrified.  The top stories - predictably - were referencing Depp's ex wife Vanessa Paradis, who recently made the decision to wade into the controversy by proclaiming Johnny to be a gentle soul who would never hurt anyone.  Below those stories, were headlines about how poor Johnny had been "driven insane" by the thought of his wife cheating on him.  And of course, you can find stories about how the actor's family had never liked Amber Heard anyway and how she was almost certainly making up these "lies" about domestic abuse in order to make millions out of one of Hollywood's biggest stars.

Why?  Why is the media so quick to jump to conclusions?  

We don't know what really happened, yet.  I, personally, always choose to believe someone who claims to have been abused, because I know from experience how atrocious it feels to go through any kind of abuse and have people claim that you're making it up.  It's a lonely, frustrating, frightening place to be.  I've been in the position of being told I was "lying for attention" when I was trying to open up about what I'd experienced with my ex.  It was HELL.  When a person has been abused, they need support, they need empathy and they need people to tell them that what they're saying is being taken seriously.  So, despite the fact that we don't know all of the details yet and despite the fact that Johnny Depp has always been amongst my favourite actors (and Hollywood crushes...), I refuse to start slinging mud at Amber Heard and accusing her of lying.  If she is, then it's a despicable lie to tell.  If she's not, then we need to seriously look at media coverage of this, because it shows up just how far we still have to go, when it comes to public understanding of abuse.

The photo Amber Heard submitted to court, of the injury she alleges Johnny Depp to have inflicted on her.

Regardless of whether or not Johnny Depp did subject his wife to a dreadful and vicious assault, the reaction from the press and some sections of the public have shown - yet again - that we haven't a clue how to deal with accusations of abuse.  Nor do we seem to understand how abuse even works.

Rather than report on the facts as we know them - that Amber Heard filed for divorce and has since been granted a temporary restraining order against Depp - the press have, in typical fashion, gone down the route of dragging up Amber Heard's sexual past, insinuating that her abuse claims are motivated by money (Depp's divorce lawyer has stated as such and the press seem to have run with it) and providing what look frighteningly like excuses for any potentially abusive behaviour that Depp may have displayed.

"He was driven insane with fear that his bisexual wife was cheating on him." - The Daily Mail

"Amber filed for divorce just three days after the death of Depp's beloved mother." - The Mirror

"He found it difficult to cope with the amount of female friends his wife, who had previously admitted being bisexual, surrounded herself with." - The Mirror

"As (Amber & friend Cara Delevingne) spent more time partying and flaunting their friendship, Johnny, 52, is said to have become increasingly infuriated by their behaviour." - The Sun

Now, I am NOT going to sit here and claim that Johnny Depp absolutely 100% abused his wife, because I can't do that without having a much greater inside knowledge of the situation than I have (I can say I believe Amber Heard, but I can't say "yep, he definitely did it").  BUT, considering that the press are reporting on hugely serious claims that a very famous Hollywood actor left his wife fearful for her life, due to his abusive outbursts, should they really be interested in Amber's sexuality, or her friendships with women?  Because, regardless as to whether or not it's their intent, in doing so, the press are providing readers with an excuse.  If they choose to believe that Depp did hit Amber in the face with his phone, causing the bruises seen above, they can also write it off as the action of a man driven to extremes by his wife's behaviour.  The unspoken message is: If he did it, he did it because she made him.

I've not used my big NO in a while, but it seems appropriate, here.

The press may genuinely believe that they're providing important context, or striving for a balanced view, but they're actually making the common mistake of forgetting one, vital thing:  THERE IS NEVER AN EXCUSE FOR ABUSE.  In providing their readers with one - again, whether intentionally or not - the media are suggesting that certain behaviours cause a person to abuse their partner, and all that suggestion does is further the culture of victim-blaming and misconception that already surrounds the subject.

Bolstered by the phrasing used in the papers and in online reports, Depp's fans took to social media to attack Amber Heard for her behaviour, stating that her flirting with female friends and her love of partying wound poor Johnny up to the point where it's almost understandable that he snapped.  And sure, maybe it would be understandable if he merely snapped in as much as he shouted "hey, I'm sick of the way you're behaving" and suggested that they split.  But that's not the accusation, here.  The accusation is that he swung a glass bottle around, screaming, damaging property and eventually hitting Amber in the face with his phone, leaving a visible bruise.  The allegation is of abuse.  That abuse - if it took place - would have been a conscious choice, as abuse always is, and that is NOT okay.

One Depp fan claimed on Twitter that Amber's behaviour during her marriage to Johnny was tantamount to emotional abuse and therefore Depp was acting in self-defence and should not be punished.  OKAY, LET'S GET VERY REAL:  Almost five years ago, I was in an emotionally/psychologically abusive relationship.  For over a year and a half, I was cheated on, put down, mocked, threatened, used and generally put through the worst Hell of my life.  If I wanted to "get my own back" on my abuser, perhaps it would be understandable.  But if I actually beat him up, I would still have committed abuse.  I would still therefore be an abuser, myself.  I couldn't claim self-defence, unless he had physically attacked me first and emotional abuse is notoriously hard to prove.  And despite knowing the anger and frustration being emotionally abused can create in a person, I know I could never have actually beaten up my ex.  Why?  Well, for a start, he was bigger and stronger than me.  I was afraid of his temper.  Johnny Depp is bigger and, arguably stronger than Amber Heard.  Even if she was behaving cruelly towards him, physical violence was totally and completely unnecessary.  Whatever she did, however she behaved, Depp had the option not to assault her.  If Amber's allegations are true, he made a choice to beat her face with his phone.  No amount of being scared that she was cheating on him, or feeling as though she didn't respect him makes that alright.  But when these facts were pointed out to said Depp fan on Twitter, she claimed that "Amber supporters" were casually excusing her behaviour, whilst criticising Johnny's.  That's not the case; all anyone is saying is that abuse isn't the answer to anything and that it's wrong to make excuses as to why someone might choose to physically assault their spouse.  

Emotional abuse is wrong.  Physical abuse is wrong.  ANY abuse is wrong.  Why am I still having to say that in 2016?!

The press have this vile habit of looking for reasons whenever a celebrity makes an allegation of abuse.  It fuels those water-cooler conversations, where people at work natter about serious topics such as abuse, as though it's flippant gossip.  "Oh, I heard she cheated on him.  Poor bloke, watching his wife flirt with other women in front of him.  I bet he was just so gutted and upset, he couldn't help but snap.  And he's proper gorgeous, isn't he?  I still would, you know!  *nudge, wink*"

And that leads me neatly on to the other thing that society still continues to get wrong, when it comes to abuse.  We STILL seem to believe that abusers are ugly-looking types in stained vests, outwardly creepy, openly unpleasant and probably on low incomes.  No matter how many times it's proven, over and over, that abusers can come from anywhere, look as gorgeous as an angel and be as charming as it's possible to be, we still cling to the belief that it could never, ever be someone we know or like.  Oh, no.  We'd be able to tell.  Abusers are horrible.  Actors, musicians. respected writers... We like them.  They're funny in interviews!  They look incredible on the red carpet!  They have talent!  How can they possibly be abusive?!  Don't be stupid.

And just to further compound that ridiculous belief, the friends and family come rushing out in defence, just as they have in the Depp case.  "He's lovely; I've seen him with his romantic partners and he's adorable."  Except...  Well, nobody knows what's going on behind closed doors, besides the people who are actually living behind them.  When I walked away from my abusive ex, I lost a friend I'd had since I was twelve years old, because she just couldn't believe that the man she knew - and had been out with herself - could possibly have treated me the way I claimed he had.  But here's the thing: abusers are great at portraying themselves well in public.  They have to be charming.  They have to be good at manipulating people.  They wouldn't be able to abuse at all if they weren't, because nobody would fall for the act.  My ex was funny, intelligent, seemingly sensitive and up for a laugh with his friends.  If I had asked around after I left him, I can say with almost 100% certainty, that not one of those friends would have labelled him as abusive.  Because they weren't there when he was abusive.  That was all for me.

This utterly stupid notion that people who seem clever, witty and who look good can't possibly be nasty in private is one of the major reasons that people who experience abuse don't speak out.  They fear they won't be believed.  And all too often, we see that fear realised.

Amber & Johnny.  Getty images.

What really happened between Amber Heard and Johnny Depp may never be known.  It could turn out that Amber did make up her allegations, in which case Depp was right to refer to her as "an affront to real victims of domestic violence."  Equally, it could be proved that Depp was abusive towards her and, regardless of the "reason," that is despicable and cannot be justified.

Whatever happens, the unfortunate fact is that this case has yet again proved that as a society, we have a very long way to go before we can say we understand abuse, or report on it with anything remotely resembling sensitivity or responsibility.  And that continues to shame us all.