Last week, my car was rear-ended by another driver, someone driving a dark-green Land Rover.
I saw her coming in the rearview mirror, saw her face, saw her car, felt the hit, felt my head and body jerk forward then back.
We pulled into a parking lot and as the college-age blond woman cried, mascara-streaming, I resisted the urge to comfort her and tell her it would be okay. I did not comfort her. I was not rude, but I did not comfort her or tell her it would be fine.
My body was shaking from the impact. We exchanged insurance information. She continued to cry, and said I had stopped so fast.
I told her I had stopped quickly because the car in front of me stopped quickly. The car in front of it had stopped completely because it couldn't turn into a driveway that was blocked by a minivan.
When I stopped, I did not hit the car in front of me.
When she hit my car, I still did not hit the car in front of me.
I told her that she had been driving too fast, and she had been driving too close to my car.
I did not comfort her.
* * *
I called my insurance company and they explained how a claim like this works. They said they hoped I was feeling better soon. I said I wanted to know what my coverage included and how to best proceed in a way that was best for me. I did not apologize for getting in an accident and inconveniencing them.
I took my car to a collision repair store. I did not apologize for getting in a wreck and showing up at their shop. They took photos of my car and later sent me an estimate.
Later I opened my trunk and it didn't work. I reexamined their bid. It did not include fixing my trunk.
I called back my insurance agent. I called back the collision repair store. I said my trunk didn't work, that I was not happy that the bid did not include trunk work. I didn't apologize for calling again or for not knowing that a rear-end collision can ruin your trunk.
The collision repair store said that an estimate is just a start, that they never know the full amount until they take the car apart and see what is underneath. I said I had not been told that. I was concerned the bid I received had a limit and if they found new issues, it would not be covered. He said that was incorrect. I said I wish someone had told me that. I did not apologize. I was not rude. I did not apologize.
* * *
Kay says that events that reach the amplitude of trauma are removed from your memory network and put on an island. Your brain does this to protect you. Your brain doesn't feel it is safe to have those memories in your daily network so it puts them away.
The only problem is your body and brain knows they are there and sometimes, the memories drift back in. Over time, it is hard to manage all of your islands.
One of the results of trauma is a sense that nothing you've done is good enough, that you are a shameful person, that you are not worthy of basic love and respect.
In life and relationships, you assume deferential positions. You assume you make mistakes. You assume you've done something wrong. You assume you're at fault.
You assume you need to apologize.
* * *
I do not any longer feel the reflexive need to apologize. It is slowly disappearing. It is slowly ebbing away, the need or desire to take care of everyone, endlessly, even the people who have and are harming me.
I will not take care of abusers.
I will not take abuse.
* * *
I will also not become an abuser.
When we are given freedom, we should also assume greater responsibility. If we are not responsible, despotic people will rise up and give us the control we are unable to personally generate.
There is darkness and light in each of us. Within each of us is the enemy. No one is completely evil or perfectly good. Which wolf will you feed, goes the Cherokee teaching.
Respect for myself.
Respect for others.
The new balance.
* * *
The metaphor of a car accident: you rarely know all the damage until you take it apart. You can't see the damage. You rarely can.
(Inspired by Layli Long Soldier's Whereas)