Believing a Woman’s Story

I’ve been a feminist since the 1960s, so I find it sad that believing a woman’s story is still a major problem today. The reaction to Oprah’s recent interview with Meghan Markle was one example of this. Prince Harry’s wife revealed she’d been suicidal. She’d become depressed over racist comments and other hateful things being said about her in the media. U.K. television personality, Piers Morgan, stated he didn’t believe for one minute that Meghan Markle had considered suicide. He saw her admission of being seriously depressed as a publicity stunt. He wasn’t alone. Many on Twitter questioned her veracity. I was even surprised that one of my good friends didn’t believe her. Perhaps it had more to do with her celebrity status than what she’d shared with the public. It’s hard for many to find sympathy for those with privilege.

And what about the U.S. Senate hearings of Justice Brett Kavanagh where Christine Blasey Ford, a psychology professor, was put through hell telling her story? She told senators she’d been sexually assaulted by Kavanagh when they were in high school. There were many media reports that discredited her. She had to take a polygraph test. In the end, she was found credible, but Brett Kavanagh was still appointed to the Supreme Court. And Ford—wrung out after giving testimony—went back home. She had to get security for her family because of the threats to her life. In this case, too, there were many who didn’t believe her story.

A Notable Film

Recently, my husband and I rented the film A Promising Young Woman. It’s the story of a young woman who wants to right the wrongs of the past. Something horrific happened to her friend and because she wasn’t believed when she tried to tell the authorities, she and her friend suffered greatly. It’s a disturbing film. Both my husband and I were so troubled by it, we slept poorly that night.

The film’s story actually reminded us of the Kavanagh situation. Though unlike the woman in the film, Christine Blasey Ford was not seeking revenge. She was concerned about the character of the man who was vying to be another supreme court judge. By coming forward, she said she was doing her job as a citizen.

The Victim in Psychotherpay

In psychotherapy circles, it’s standard to believe patients or clients who complain of sexual abuse. The reason is because it takes courage to reveal something so personal, so intimate, so frightful. While bringing up painful events, you hurt all over again. You relive the trauama.

Therapists also take suicidal ideation seriously. They don’t dismiss someone claiming to have thoughts of killing themselves.

My first job as a clinical therapist was on a psychiatric ward, populated largely by depressed women. It’s a fact that more women than men end up on psych wards or are prescribed anti-depressants. Women often keep their sad stories to themselves because they don’t believe they’ll be heard. Some feel ashamed. Or they feel, that they are somehow to blame. And judging by the reaction to Meghan Markle’s and Dr. Christine Blasey Ford’s revelations, how can the average woman believe it will be any different for her?

Doubting the Woman

Today, many continue to question the woman who comes forward with an accusation of sexual assault. If she makes it to court, any inappropriate behaviour in her past will be revealed as evidence of her sluttiness. The defense will suggest she had led the man on, or she’d made it up to get back at him. She’ll be treated as if she was the one who had committed the terrible act.

There may be a few who are not being truthful, but the majority of women who come forward are in tremendous pain. They’re afraid they won’t be believed. They may be up against their boss, husband, boyfriend, teacher, priest, father, brother, local police, etc. By speaking up, they’re afraid they could lose their job, their reputation, custody of their children, or embarrass their family. And today, there’s another threat. They could be torn apart by social media.

So they keep their sad stories so long that they pile up or become too big of a load to carry.  When they finally reach out and tell their family doctor, they discover the doctor doesn’t have time or the skills to deal with emotional issues. The woman will be prescribed anti-depressants or referred to a psychotherapist.

If the depression isn’t severe, many get helped through psychotherapy. But if the woman is at the breaking point or she’s attempted suicide, then she ends up on a hospital ward where the staff learn what had brought the grey clouds on.

Seeing all those sad souls on that psych ward, where I worked, inspired me to write a story that showed some of the issues facing women with mental health problems. Though my novel, The Rubber Fence, is set in 1972, it speaks for today. The same challenges continue for both staff and patients.

The Rubber Fence

My novel features three women’s stories: Dr. Joanna Bereza, a compassionate psychiatric intern who’s up against the system; Theresa Boychuk, a mute young mother who’s accused of trying to kill her baby; and Rose Bileski, an older woman who’s been shocked a number of times. Each one is trying to get their story out.

The following excerpt is an early scene from the novel, where Joanna Bereza, the intern, is defending a female patient, who’d been raped by a biker gang. She argues with her supervisor, Dr. Myron Eisenstadt, about the psychiatric label he wants to give Sylvia, the rape victim.

                “I’m not arguing about that.” Her heartbeat accelerated as she pressed her point. “It seems too simple and unfair to fit everything that happens to anyone into a neat little category, like self-defeating personality. I find it hard to accept this kind of labeling for Sylvia. It ignores all the environmental factors that played a role in her hospitalization.”

                “It’s the best we’ve got.” He studied her for a moment, then said, “Look at the evidence. She’s a young mother. What the hell was she doing going to a party dressed like a whore?” Myron’s voice rose like that of an evangelist working his congregation. “What did she think was going to happen? She wasn’t dressed for a Tupperware party.”

Hope on the Horizon

But there is much hope on the horizon. The Me Too movement opened that dark door a crack. Brave female celebrities and others came forward with their stories of sexual assault and harassment in Hollywood and the truth won out. They brought about the downfall of Harvey Weinstein, a powerful producer and Bill Cosby, a once-revered comedian, among others.

The more we speak up about the inequities we see or face, the more we’ll be able to right the wrongs of the past. And this goes for every facet of our lives.

On Another Front

I’m gearing up for the book launch of my new novel, Lilacs in the Dust Bowl. I have a number of author reading events lined up in May and June. I’ll be posting about that soon, but if you’re interested in this new story, you can find out more here.

Comments are always appreciated.