Today, let's discuss the inescapability (new word?) of abuse. HAHA, THAT'S... dark. It's also not true. But it also is true.
That got confusing quickly. What I'm trying to say is that, while someone may be able to get out of an abusive relationship, that doesn't really mean it's over. We'll go back to Frozen to address this. We talked last time about the awesome abundance of symbolism in the movie, and specifically in the signature song, "Let It Go." I also mentioned briefly that we all saw, despite her new found sense of empowerment and seeming freedom, Elsa's lack of fear was a passing phase. As soon as she was confronted with a problem, the fear came bubbling right back up and out.
Let me digress here, briefly. A common issue I have with television and movies is the oversimplification of solutions to problems. I know that a lot of this is due to limited time, but I feel like that's a convenient excuse. It's really just wishful thinking, as we'd all love for things to be that easily fixed. But you can't confess to your crush and expect things to end happily ever after just because they like you back. Real relationships encounter problems, even with the most well-adjusted people, and they take work. Likewise, you also can't spend years suffering emotional beatings and suddenly be fine just because the perpetrator is out of the picture. All those terrible things they made you believe about yourself still live inside your mind. One of many reasons I love Frozen is that the film spends a little more time on dealing with these issues (if still less than is representative of real life). So as much as Elsa might feel that she's finally able to escape by leaving her kingdom behind, the real damage is something she carries with her. Her song is beautiful and inspiring, but it's also a lie. She does cry again.
She is still afraid.
And she still feels trapped.
Also, gets literally trapped!
We see these things happen minutes after she professes to be free of them. Part of the problem is what I mentioned above: you can't live with that kind of abuse for years and expect to get over it in a 60 second song. But the other part of it is that her solution to her problem was to run away instead of dealing with it.
Allow me another digression to clarify that I am not advocating, under any circumstances, that someone in an abusive relationship should stay in that relationship and try to make it work. Get out as soon as you feel you safely can (another topic for another day). What I'm talking about here is confronting and dealing with the emotional fallout of the abuse.
Elsa runs from Arendelle in an attempt to outrun her feelings, and when she figures out she can't, those feelings overwhelm her and threaten the people she loves, her sister and subjects. Elsa's parents convinced her that she was dangerous and created within her a sense of self-loathing and low self-esteem. It didn't matter how hard she tried to be the "good girl" and please them, her powers always spilled out. Running away from the castle freed her from having to confront these things temporarily, but not from feeling them. The slightest mis-step (granted, eternal winter isn't exactly slight) and all that guilt and fear come right back because the abuse she experienced made her genuinely believe terrible things about herself. It doesn't matter that no one is saying those things any more. They don't need to. She's been long since convinced.
The real world correlate for this is the emotional isolation victims of abuse often feel even well after the end of the relationship. It has certainly been something I struggle with. You don't want to admit to people how bad it was because the abuser (and often, society at large) has convinced that you were the problem, that what happened was your fault. You may even know better in your head, but after years of what was basically brainwashing, it's hard to really know that in your heart. So you still believe on some level that you are worthless, boring, cruel, ugly, stupid, or whatever else the abuser told you, and therefore not worthy of other people's time and attention. If you really let them in, they would hate you and hurt you, and this way you get to hide from all of those terrible things you've started to believe about yourself.
That, for me, has been the worst part about living through abuse. This is a person that I loved, and I person that I totally believed loved me. If a person who loved me, whom I trusted, told me these things, surely they must be true?
Just as Elsa trusted her parents to protect her and lead her down safe paths, so often do the abused take the word of their abusers as truth.
That kind of hurt and fear can, and does, become a part of who you are. I used to spend every moment of my day carefully analyzing and planning my actions, my words, my dress, my meals, everything in order to make sure it would be pleasing to my abuser so he had no excuse to belittle and hurt me. It was never enough, nor could it be. And I still carry that sense of constant caution today, though it has lessened. It took me months to willingly eat certain foods in front of others because my abuser told me that I looked disgusting when I chewed, and I didn't want to upset anyone. I stopped wearing make-up because he would accusingly ask me who I wanted to look pretty for, although now I don't put any on because
I don't want to wear it. I still have to talk myself out of keeping secrets about silly things because they used to upset him, like whether or not I talked to anyone that day, and whom. There were times when I wouldn't eat because I was worried that I might choose something for my meal that
he wanted, and to this day I still feel guilty and uncomfortable eating "other people's food," even though those other people might be my parents with whom I live and would not care. These are things I learned to do in order to survive, and even though the actual abuse is over, I still have to spend time recovering from those thoughts and habits. Reminding myself that I am safe and I can just be. That the people in my life value me and want me around. That I am worthwhile and worth love.
You have to turn and face those issues if you expect to overcome them. Opening up to those who care about you and telling the truth about how you feel is an absolute necessity for recovery, because they will be the most important reminders of all that good stuff. It's an old cliche, but accurate: The truth can [help] set you free.
This is the part 2 of a multi-part series about abuse, addressing my personal experience, representations in media, and general information. Additions to the series will be published on Saturdays. Find part 1 here.
The next installment in the series will cover the other abusive relationship in Frozen (since I got a little wordy and couldn't fit it in today as originally planned) and the dangerous precedent set by the abuse in Twilight and Fifty Shade of Grey. Find part 3 here, part 4 here and part 5 here.
