The Grey Area
I got the news that one of my abusers passed away.
I’ve dreamt of this day a few times, and now that it’s here, I don’t know how to feel.
All I know is that one of the men who hurt me is gone.
Even though he’s gone and at “peace,” he still haunts my dreams.
Maybe one day he won’t. Maybe him dying will help me find peace.
There’s comfort knowing he can’t hurt anyone else.
I know family members are sad that he passed, but I have no sympathy for them.
I’m not mad at them, but I don’t understand why they would get together and hold a wake for him.
They should’ve thrown him in a Hefty and called it day.
Okay, so clearly I am mad.
When I spoke up about what he did to me the family should have cut ties with him.
But they didn’t. Instead, they looked the other way as if they didn’t hear me.
Like everything was still okay.
For years I’ve been making excuses and defending both sides of my family.
Saying I didn’t want to ask any of them to choose sides but it’s not about choosing sides.
It’s about doing the right thing.
Doing the right thing is not having any contact with an abuser that has hurt someone you love.
There is no grey area.
You either support the survivor, or you support the abuser. You can’t support both.
Given everything I’m doing and standing for, I don’t have room in my life for people who want to live in the grey area.