Red Flags

Flags, fawning, and being on your own side

Photo by Slava Taukachou on Unsplash

“He grabbed me in the kitchen,” she says. “But I put a stop to it. I stopped it.”

“You stopped it,” I repeat. I’m talking to a colleague who’s getting her roof done by a friend of the family.

“Yep, I put a stop to it, and he apologized.”

“So you called him back?”

“The work needed to be finished.”

“Was there no one else who could do it?”

“I guess I could’ve hunted around, but he does a good job and it wasn’t really that bad, now that I think about it.”

I let the silence crackle in the space between us for a bit. “Does he come into the house?”

She shrugs. “Only for paperwork, or if he has a question about something.”

And then she changes the subject and we start talking about books that are currently being banned in the U.S. But a part of me doesn’t want to move on to the book discussion.

What I want to say is, Wait—your kids are in the house. You might’ve been able to ‘put a stop to it’, but someone more vulnerable might not be able to. Someone younger…a daughter, a son. You are repeatedly letting someone into your house who ‘grabbed’ you in the kitchen.

This is the third conversation like this that I’ve had in the last few weeks, so I’ve been thinking a lot about red flags — and what it is about red flags, especially ones that wave wildly in our faces, that allows us to disregard them.

How did an entire nation that lived through a first wanna-be dictator’s presidency elect him a second time? Talk about a glaring red flag.

I put a stop to it, and he apologized.

I’ve had these thoughts, too. As has anyone who’s experienced childhood abuse — “I can manage it.” “He’ll listen to me.” “I am not the same weakling who was abused as a child.” “I’m grown now…no longer powerless.” “He feels bad about it.” “We were both a little bit responsible.” “If they like me, I have more control.”

Except that when someone takes advantage of a situation where they have more power - like a man who is stronger and bigger than a woman, or a parent who is bigger and stronger than a child - what that person does is under their control. They are doing the thing. No one can make you do something like violate someone else.

In most of these cases, perpetrators test their limits. They think about what they’re going to do before doing it. They usually know they are going to do whatever they end up doing. It’s not that they suddenly can’t control themselves whenever you come around.

Most perpetrators have very likely violated others’ boundaries before, and they will violate others again in the future. Unless they do some serious self reflection and healing - which, I can tell you from experience and with absolute certainty, takes many years or even decades of excruciating psychic and emotional self-surgery without anesthesia.

When we’re little, we think someone abused us because we did something…. Something I did caused this person to do the thing that hurt me.

It’s a brilliant survival mechanism. Imagine being so small, so open to possible harm, so dependent and in need of care… That is what childhood is. Children are desperate for love, belonging, tenderness.

Imagine, then, having to admit that there is no safety. Anywhere. Even with the person whose job it is to keep you safe. Imagine if that is the person you have to hide from.

It’s enough to break you. It’s enough to squash you flat in an instant. A boot on a butterfly.

So you do the smartest thing anyone can do in that moment. You tell yourself you can change it. That you are not powerless. That if you somehow, in some way, do the right thing or say the right thing or be the right thing…that will alter something.

Maybe if they like you, feel bad for you, if you make them laugh, if you blame someone else…maybe that will make things less bad. Make things safer.

Hope.

It gives you hope. Hope that you can change your environment, your circumstances. That you are not powerless. That you can do something, and they will see you as a person and not as a use. You can change them…they can change if you do the right thing, say the right thing…be the right thing.

If they can’t change, what does that mean? If something you do, say, be can’t change them, what does that mean?

It might mean that you don’t actually have as much control as you might want to believe. You don’t have as much control over others…control over your environment.

It might mean that others can do things and you can’t stop them. That things can happen without your consent or agreement. It might mean that you are - that we are all - still vulnerable human beings, no matter how big or powerful we might become. No matter how many arms or defenses we accumulate.

As adults with access to language and resources, that is a prickly discomfort to sit in. But what an absolutely terrifying thought for a small child.

The truth of that was probably fully understood by ancient societies (and mothers and grandmothers and people who nurture small things) because every indigenous group in existence understands deeply the need to protect the earth, nature, the environment…all that is soft and depends on us, and that we, in turn, depend on.

Because the truth is that we are all we have.

The truth is that even as fully grown, big, powerful adults, we are vulnerable. We still do not, and can not, control our environment. We do not, and can not, control other people. We can’t even control our own bodies or thoughts. Next time you get sick try simply telling yourself to stop being sick. Or when you get into a thought loop telling you we’re all doomed. Try simply telling yourself to stop.

When we see a flash of red waving just on the periphery of our vision, we can only turn fully to face it. Bring it into focus.

Heed the warning. Shut the door.

Compassion and forgiveness are overrated. None of us owe it to those who abuse/d us. But we do owe it to ourselves.

Be on your own side. Be on the side of the children…on the side of all that needs protecting. That is where your compassion and forgiveness is most helpful.

And don’t allow the perpetrator in. Especially again. Never allow them in again.

What we are seeing on a macro level is complicity in the extreme. Fear in the extreme. The fourth “F” response to trauma, fawning, in the extreme.

Every global dictator is surrounded by fawners. And if fawning is a response to trauma, then we have handed the reins to perpetrators and those fawning for perpetrators.

Many of these fawners are people we thought would protect us, would advocate for us, would step up — Liberals, Democrats, any Arab nation, any Western nation, any Eastern nation, any f’ing nation at all.

But those who are supposed to protect us have opened the doors wide to those who will harm us.

When mothers can’t protect children from fathers, when fathers can’t protect families from the state, the damage lives for generations. And when our lines of defense open the doors to welcome the intruder in, then the children are on their own.

Like in Nepal. There is no going back to ancient ways, because we are moving full steam ahead now.

The forces of destruction are rapidly gaining momentum—but there is also an equal and opposite lunge forward, in ways yet unknown and yet unimagined. More people than ever are talking about the issues that we used to talk about only on the fringes. A few decades ago no one knew who Audre Lorde was, who Assata was, what was going on in the Middle East. Conversations about colonization and extractive capitalism were not mainstream, and now these are terms casually bandied about on social media.

The throttling is a desperate attempt at quelling a rising awakening (they tell you straight up, themselves, how much they fear the “woke”). But it’s unstoppable if we are vigilant about creating circles of defense with the softest, most tender among us at the center. If we pay attention to all the red flags. If we heal our tendencies to fawn and collapse and try to please those who’ve done us harm, and demand accountability instead.

You can’t do anything about a problem if you’re ignoring it, if it’s hidden and festering. But now it’s all front and center. Everything is out in the open, bold and unapologetic—and that’s brutal and hopeful in equal measure.

We are breaking apart. And in all of the rubble and smoke, we are seeing the furtive, still-damp wings of a new consciousness feeling its way in.

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Summary:

1. Pay attention to red flags

2. Fully allow your body to digest this truth: You can’t control someone else’s actions, especially when they have power over you.

3. Always be on your own side…the side of the child who was hurt.

4. Never let the perpetrator in, especially again.

5. Heal the fawn response in yourself, so that it sets off a ripple effect of healing in others.

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