I don't Owe You Anything

I’ve been struggling over the last week after receiving a letter from an old acquaintance, a white man.  We met freshman year of college.  Then, some time during our sophomore or junior year, he disappeared.  There were rumors in our friend group about his mental health and what happened, but he wasn’t on social media, he wasn’t at school, and  no one heard from him again.  This past June, he found my website and gave me  a call.  We chatted for a bit, and then exchanged a few emails.  He wanted to help support my DEI business, but wasn’t sure how.  Through these conversations I was able to discern that he was still unwell, and attempted to gracefully excuse us from any business-type relationship, and gave him my home address to write me a letter (his preferred communication).

When I received the letter a few weeks later, he went on to explain the ways in which his “privilege” (his word) had surfaced at school that I was unaware of.  In particular, he admitted to assaulting someone very close to me; something this woman never told me.  He explained how he needed help addressing these forms of privilege, and included a check for my time.

It felt like blood money.  Like his admission to me would somehow absolve him from his crimes against someone I loved.    I was disgusted, and had no desire to be tied to this man any longer. He said in the letter that he didn’t expect anything from me, and understood I may take some time in responding.  I destroyed the check and chose not to invest my time or energy in continuing the conversation - I did not owe him anything.  

But a few weeks later he sent another email asking if I had received his letter. His ignorance around the impact of his admission was astonishing, and even more so that I would and should simply open my arms to him, and accept him no matter his transgressions.    Even worse, he had offered for me to not respond, but when I did not engage he rescinded that offer.  I told him I had received it, and suggested he speak with a male therapist (I was not going to suggest he take that traumatizing information to a woman). I told him I would not accept his payment, and wished him healing.

Here’s where it gets tricky for me - and many women.  We are taught by society to not push back too hard, usually out of a concern for our own safety.  If we just act smaller, if we don’t push back on the man’s ego, we are less likely to receive further harassment.  It’s my game plan when men say disgusting things to me when I’m walking my dog.  It was my survival technique when dating my abuser.  But this man had hurt someone I loved.  And that person either chose to never tell me, or worse, I dismissed her comments.  Regardless, now I know this without her permission.  His willingness to disregard her privacy and wishes was yet another violation of her.  I felt guilty for not yelling at him. I felt like I was continuing to not defend this woman of color, someone I barely speak to now but for whom I still have a tremendous love.  Women are so often put in no-win situations, and taught to accept responsibility no matter the reason or result. 

This week I received another letter from him, wondering what went wrong.  He asked if it was my pride that had made me decline his money.  He called himself “your estranged friend.”    I am so used to - and tired of - men deciding I am responsible for their growth.  I am tired of men assuming that by being honest, they are entitled to the space and energy of a woman to first forgive them, and second to heal them. When I got the letter, I felt this usual sense of shame and guilt building in my stomach.  I don’t even know why.  Having survived one abusive relationship, I’ve learned in these situations silence is not only safer - but often best because you cannot win. These are justifications I give myself for not responding, when the real reason should simply be: I do not want to.  Society has taught me to rethink this over and over, consuming all this energy, and desperately looking for a way to absolve myself from taking on his emotional burden.

I hate this story. It makes me feel complacent in abuse. What a horrendous way to teach girls and women to navigate the world. What a huge burden I am trying to unlearn.

Song of the Week: Blk Girl Soldier by Jamila Woods