convenience

Abused children blame themselves. It's how they make sense of the horrible things that are happening to them. Their black-and-white, egocentric minds work like this: "Good people have good things happen to them. Bad things are happening to me, so I must be bad."

How does a child wrap their mind around the idea that some people treat someone else badly just because they can, not because the person deserves it?

Children don't have the capacity to understand that.

Ergo, the self-blame.

My therapist keeps trying to help me internalize this: I wasn't chosen by my abusers because there's something wrong with me. It was simply because I was there. I was convenient. I was available, and so I was chosen.

I don’t know how to wrap my head around this notion. Convenience. It makes me feel so much. And also makes me feel nothing at all.

If it's true, then I can let go of the decades I've spent believing in my irredeemableness. I wasn't abused because of who I am. There's not anything wrong with me.

But also, if it's true, then everything that happened is so... meaningless. So pointless.

So much pain and evil because of convenience.

How is that any better?

***

Convenience made me desirable.

Not prettiness.

Or ugliness.

Not goodness.

Or nastiness.

Just convenience.

Cheap convenience. 

Like a cheap hot dog at 7-11.

That’s not particularly tasty.

And not particularly healthy.

But enough to satiate a craving. 

Cheap-as-possible convenience. 

Gets the job done. 

Me. 

***