I Wish You Knew.

I wish you knew how desperate the addict is to leave that life behind. To know a sense of inner peace, absent chemicals to block out the pain. I wish you could look beyond their addiction and see that these people aren’t running from who they are, they are running from who they were told they needed to be in order to be accepted. They are running from the person they were told they were supposed to be when their true, innate being was rejected and deemed unworthy of attachment. They’re not running from their true reality, they’re trying to block out the façade they were forced to live in order to gain acceptance from those who were supposed to love them, unconditionally. I wish you could take the time to understand their cries for help, without assigning blame. I wish you knew how deeply it breaks them when you tell them “it’s your fault, you chose to stick that needle in your arm” or “if you really want to stop using, you can just stop”. I wish you could grasp firmly onto this reality; If you haven’t been through it, you have no ability to judge those who have. If you have no practical solution to offer, your opinion has no purpose other than to be a clanging cymbal and an arrogant annoyance. If all you have to offer is another passing insult or degrading punchline, they’d be better off if you just remained silent. I wonder though; if you knew you could help them, would you?

I wish you knew that the young girl on the street didn’t choose this life. She will tell you she did. She believes she did. I wish you knew that no child actively decides to pursue a life of prostitution. She wanted to be a doctor, a lawyer, an astronaut, a veterinarian, or anything else, but she never wanted to be what she has become. I wish you knew that she has endured more pain and sorrow than most of us will ever feel in a hundred lifetimes, and all before she made it to high school. She’s a victim, and I wish you knew that, I wish you truly believed that. She was coerced and manipulated into this life. I wish you didn’t see her as insignificant, as a lost cause, as beyond hope. I pray that one day you can see past what she was forced to be, and see what she is capable of becoming. I wish you knew how much it destroys her already bruised soul when she hears the jokes in the hallway, or the sideways glances she receives when passed on the street. She doesn’t know she’s a victim. She has never known that this wasn’t her idea. I wish you wanted to help her see that. I wish you had the heart to help her escape that fire. I truly do.

I wish you knew that the man who is considering taking his life isn’t doing so because he’s tired of living. He’s doing so because he’s tired of not living. He isn’t screaming for help, because he believes no one will understand. He’ll sometimes hide behind laughter because it’s easier than answering questions. He doesn’t tell you how he feels because he believes it will just push you further away. He has seen it. He’s watched his circle grow smaller, and his friends become silent, when he dared to mention his struggles. I wish you knew that he feels completely alone, and sometimes it’s those closest to him who have made him feel that way. I wish you knew that he hasn’t had a good nights sleep in years because his brain constantly convinces him that he’s a failure and serves no real purpose on this earth. I wish you knew how many nights he laid in bed crying, begging God to not let him wake the next morning. I wish you knew how many times he hated himself for not being able to give a better life to his family. Most importantly, I wish you had a heart to sit with him so that he doesn’t have to walk through this alone.

I wish you knew that the quiet lady who showed up with bruises again isn’t weak. She isn’t a fool for staying. She didn’t know she was marrying a monster. I promise you, she had no idea who he was, and by the time she found out, he had already convinced her that this was her life to live, and this was her role to play. You don’t understand it, I know. You never will. You’re not supposed to. I wish you knew that this has become such a part of her day to day reality that it doesn’t seem out of the ordinary to her. I wish you knew that she may have been raised around groups that told her never to divorce, no matter what. Horrible advice, but not uncommon. I assure you, if the price of a lasting marriage is a broken woman, that is too costly a price to pay. I will gladly have words with any preacher or counselor who believes otherwise. God values people over institutions, and don’t let anyone ever tell you differently. I wish you knew that the narcissist who has controlled her has inflicted more than just physical scars. She has scars you’ll never see, and she may never speak of. She knows you don’t understand, she just wishes you would stop judging her. I wish you knew how much it breaks her heart to hear you say “you should’ve just left the first time he hit you!” She knows that now. She couldn’t possibly have known that then. I wish you knew that. I wish you could see how strong and beautiful she is for having finally found the courage to escape, instead of judging her for the years she couldn’t.

Victims who have broken free to become survivors are the bravest, strongest, and most inspiring among us. I wish you didn’t see them as people “who made their own poor choices” or people “who ruined their own lives”. I wish you knew how easily you could contribute to their healing if you would stop blaming them, and start admiring them. I wish you could identify them with all the wonderful accomplishments they’ve made after escaping, instead of always trying to identify them with their past. That’s not them anymore! I wish our capacity to love someone’s scars came as easily as our ability to mock their pain through insensitive judgment. I wish our heroes weren’t millionaire Hollywood elitists, overpaid sports figures, and billionaire, trust fund, tech moguls. I wish we could see heroism in the survivors. Those are the heroes we should be lifting up. I wish you knew that.

Jeremy.