Until it happens to you

No, this blog post is not about Lady Gaga’s timeless song, “Til it happens to you”, although I would encourage any soul to check it out.

I feel that we, as humans, are motivated by our survival instincts to engage in victim blaming. Aligning or identifying with the victim feels like admitting our own vulnerability, because if the victim was “victimized”, and we are like the victim, then we are also vulnerable to being victimized.

To cope with this fear, one points out the victim’s flaws, whether it be regarding the victim’s character or behavior, trying to make the victim as unappealing of a human being as possible, one who we can’t possibly be similar to. In short, we dehumanize the victim so that we can feel safe.

I have certainly been guilty of this myself. I did not come from money or anything special, really, and my academic achievements used to be the only thing that made me stand out from the herd and gave me a sense of belonging and identity. Because of this, I had absolute faith in my ability to tolerate whatever hardship my research or academic career otherwise would throw at me. Unconsciously, I was TERRIFIED of ever admitting that I could face a situation that I couldn’t tolerate in academia. Therefore, when I heard about other trainees leave their abusive supervisors, I used to immediately go into victim blaming mode for my own survival, thinking that the abused student/ trainee was “weak”, “useless”, and probably deserved the bad treatment anyway.

If you read my previous blogs, you will know that the goddess eventually decided to teach me a lesson and gave me an obstacle that I could not overcome. I, for once, could not tolerate the abuse that was thrown at me and had to leave that position, the learning opportunities that came with it, and the possibility of a good evaluation in that rotation. When I shared this story with my colleagues, some were sympathetic and offered me words of support and advice. Others however, looked at me with judgmental eyes veiled by fear, almost wanting to scream at me “You deserved what happened to you, that would NEVER happen to a normal resident”. They interrogated me to find out what I had done wrong to deserve this outcome, so that they could be reassured that it was my fault, and that it would never happen to them. It did not escape me that I had also felt the same urge to judge when other colleagues would confide their struggles to me – I was being taught an important lesson that would stay with me forever.

My work in providing compassionate care to my patients as a physician DEPENDS on my ability to identify with them. If a patient with an extensive substance use history walks in the door with yet another overdose – I cannot hope to provide empathy and support that the patient needs in that moment unless I feel a kinship with them. The patient was likely living in highly marginalized conditions with multiple social stressors – the substance use was a way of coping when they had no other resources. I have also been at the end of my rope at the mercy of strangers for my next meal or a roof over my head. This person could be my brother, sister, mother, father, or even me.

What do I do though, when that survival instinct to feel safe is so deeply engrained into my biology? This is when I dig into my identity as a witch and ask for the help of my goddesses and spirit guides – to allow me to transcend beyond my human nature to recognize that we are all children of mother Gaia. Spiritual leaders in witchcraft and other paths often come from dark pasts – I deeply believe that this is no mistake. I believe that these individuals are angels sent to earth to learn a lesson, so that they can alchemize their suffering into healing light.

At the end, brothers and sisters, we are ALL human. We are ALL vulnerable to the same misfortunes and follies, to the same depths of sorrow and loss. This was one of the many lessons the goddess had planned for me when I came to this earth, and I hope to share it with you today.

Have a blessed new moon, child of Gaia. I embrace you.

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