It occurred to me that when abuse is reported the concerned person is saying that the person being abused doesn’t deserve it.
The one who reports abuse is saying, this is unjust and I’m not going to sit by and let this happen.
The one reporting abuse offers their strength to the abused and offers their voice because they recognize vulnerability.
Even when done anonymous, it takes a healthy conscience and inner strength to report abuse. My mother had neither.
I understand why my mother never reported accounts of abuse we shared with her in strict detail. She never saw those kids as living beings with the universal right to safety and peace. She didn’t recognize their worth. My mother probably never expected anyone to go to bat for me. How sorely she underestimated the worth of her children, too.
I honestly didn’t expect to survive her, but I did. Most days I’m happy I did because there’s so much more to see and do.