To the Girl Who Wasn't Fought For

By your husband.

By your parent.

By your boyfriend.

By your employer.

By your coach.

By anyone who you put your full faith and trust in…

I see you. 

After keeping up with the allegations of Mary Cain this week, the thread of athletes speaking out, and reflecting on my own experiences of abuse by a higher power differential, or someone I trusted, or who made lofty promises that they could not keep…I realized the deeply, silent cry of multiple women is this: FIGHT FOR ME.

And it’s not a cry in codependence or weakness. It’s the cry of: “Do you hear me? Are you empathizing with me? And please, can you help me?” It takes strength to do that. It takes strength to admit that you have been cutting yourself, trying to purge, and have been dealing with suicidal thoughts. It takes strength to tell a supervisor that you were in an uncomfortable situation, and were being touched inappropriately and felt exploited. It takes strength to tell someone else’s upper - as the female minority - that you have been subject to abuse. It takes strength to set a boundary, and say “NO.” To the loved one. To the higher power differential. To ANY person who has used manipulation, guilting, or gas-lighting in their favor; as though they are your puppeteer. 

Maybe they guaranteed your worth in your career, sport, art, passions and life aspirations, WHO you are as an individual….IF you just stuck with them. But “by their rules”. By their puppeteer mechanism, whose strings you slowly learned were but a noose around your neck. And when you realized that you were in a detrimental situation or headspace, you needed someone to back you up, support you, help you, hear your concern, roll this heavy burden onto their shoulder. Someone to fight for you. And when they saw you barely hanging onto the cliff, panicking and wallowing into survival mode - left to fend for yourself - it probably felt like a piece of you withered and died. 

…And rightfully so. Instead of taking your hand, being your shield, and picking you up in your weakness, they not only left you hanging…they shoved you off. You probably thought something was wrong with YOU - that the pain was all your fault, or you were overly dramatic, or that things would get better, or that “Maybe they still will keep their promises, and it’s all just me…”

To the girl who wasn’t fought for…I want to remind you of something: You. Have. A. Voice. You deserve to be heard. Your pain is not irrational. Your red flags that have been compiling are not all in your head. You are allowed to speak up. You have permission to walk away. You have the power to report. You can say “NO.” You are not crazy. Your success is not limited by means of your higher power differential. You deserve to be fought for.

To the girl who wasn’t fought for: Through Him, you are. I know not everyone is a believer, or can soulfully cling to this. And I know that this reminder isn't rocket science to those who do. But I want to say it, and remind you anyway, whoever you are. When you choose to do life with God, keeping him as your foundation and your truth - He fights for you. Even when you don't feel it. Even when praying feels like talking to thin air. Even when your flesh understands the pain you feel, more than the one fighting your battles for you. To the girl who wasn't fought for; hang tight:

He hears you.

He sees you.

He knows you.

He understands injustice. 

He is your sword.

He is your shield.

He delights in the good that your current pain leads to. 

He fights your battles.

And He will keep fighting for you.

“Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or dismayed before the king of Assyria and all the horde that is with him., for there are more with us than with him. With him is an arm of flesh, but with us is the Lord our God, to help us and to fight our battles.” 2 Chronicles 32:7-8 (context)