Opinion: We Will Continue to Blame Victims Until We Actually Believe Them

 

"Amber Heard" by
Gordon Correll

As the Johnny Depp and Amber Heard defamation trial began on April 1, 2022, the irony of its commencement on the old Fools’ Day was not lost on me. Some of us turned our backs in disgust, some rolled our eyes, and the rest, well, we looked on in morbid amusement, even as the rest of the world appeared to rip apart at its seams. The end of days seemed to encroach on our reality - but there we were, eagerly watching a public live stream of a defamation trial between two wealthy celebrities who couldn’t work out their personal differences in any other way than to hit the other where it hurt most: the wallet. It really was like watching a train wreck that no one was able to turn away from, but for me, the disdain I felt for the couple’s raucous display of wealth and tactlessness was overridden by the fact that as an abuse survivor, I actually believed Heard. 

My ambivalence toward the whole thing did not stop me from furiously scrolling the numerous comments of Instagram and Twitter posts that “reported” on the trial, though, which of course revealed a dichotomy of opinion: one large portion swaying to one side, another being the “unpopular opinion”. If you weren’t totally disgusted by the whole thing, then - obviously - you were team Johnny. Yes. Poor old Johnny.  Of course, he couldn't be a washed-up ex-teen heartthrob with an alcohol and drug abuse problem. He is just another good man brought down by some ghoulish woman.

I am not here to deny Johnny Depp’s victimhood. I wholeheartedly believe that he is a victim - a victim of the pressures of the media and Hollywood, of substance abuse and addiction, of his own ego, and probably much more. But what is vexing about this new, particular victimhood of Johnny Depp is that it has erased accountability for his disturbing and aggressive behavior at the mention of Amber Heard’s "bad acting". Not to mention the mob-like incitement of intense and extreme hatred toward a woman who is not personally known by the majority of the folks who are so resolute in their belief of her incredulity. 

After the trial ended, awarding Depp $15 million in damages, one Twitter user posted: “#Amberheard is probably the most embarrassing woman on this earth, she lost…move on! Getting her PR team to get ridiculous hashtags trending, #JohnnyDeppWillWinAgain is gonna send her over the edge, she needs prison and the right help for her own sake #JohnnyDepp” (you can find the tweet here). Yes, there are people who believe that Amber Heard should go to prison for the things she accused of Johnny. 

I was shocked when I found out. In a fleeting moment, I recounted the pinching, heart-wrenching pain of realizing that most people refused to believe I was being abused seven years ago: the time I called the police over to my apartment because my estranged husband hacked my phone, stole conversations and photos, and threatened to post them on social media. [“I’m sorry, you’re still married, your phone is considered communal property - if he threatens you with physical violence, please call us back”]. The countless friends I lost, or who distanced themselves from me, because he had a larger social media following and posted intimate details about our breakup online, accusing me of abuse. Forget that he actually hit, choked, and continually intimidated me for four years preceding our breakup.

Attempting to convince friends and authorities that I was the victim was almost worse than the abuse itself. The constant, noxious fear that no one would believe me because so far, they hadn't, was debilitating. The most alone I have ever felt was the few months after I separated from my abusive husband. Most people stayed away unless they were a close family. My ex-husband was a popular artist on Instagram, at least at that point in time, and no one could believe that he could be so cruel. What’s more, they didn’t even know me that well. For the duration of our relationship, I had stayed at home raising the children while he was out mingling. I was a nobody. I had no social capital. No clout. Nothing. To come out against a beloved local graphic artist was social suicide (this was before #metoo and before the collective shift for advocacy of accountability). I found myself rehearsing the ways in which I would expose him, admit my trauma, and just get it off my chest. It was a heavy weight, a burden, a chore - because no one believed me. They believed the guy who said it was my fault. Pretty soon, you start believing it yourself, even as you continue to be victimized. You start to think that you don’t deserve to be believed.

There is no right, authentic, pure, unadulterated way for a victim of domestic violence to come out and expose their abuser. Most often, they are still very much attached to their abuser, and find it hard to force the words out - and when they do, it is in a voice of insecurity without conviction. According to Anne Groggel, in a study that sampled thirty cases of temporary protection orders from each county in Nebraska in 2015, nearly seventy percent of the victims sought to dismiss their protective orders based on reconciliation and love (2021). Another seventy percent dismissed their orders based on contrition and change, citing that their abuser was seeking help for anger management, mental health, sobriety and more (2021). Sometimes, the victim has a hard time believing the abuse themselves, or questions whether it actually happened, because their abuser keeps saying it didn’t, or believes the abuser loves them, or is sorry for what they did. In sum, exposing an abuser is not easy, and what most people think should be black-and-white in interpersonal violence simply is not. Sometimes the admission must be rehearsed. Over and over again. Maybe it will sound genuine. Maybe it won’t. It depends on the victim’s level of comfort in revealing sensitive, intimate details about a traumatic experience. It also depends on who’s listening.

​I do not know Amber Heard personally, but I do know what it’s like to be in her shoes. To have all eyes watching, dissecting everything you say and everything you do. As if those who are watching want to prove that you are a liar because if they don't they will have to admit that their "hero" is flawed. It is impossible to gauge the credibility of a person’s testimony simply by witnessing them flail and buckle under pressure, especially in instances of abuse. Reactive Abuse exists, and those suffering from PTSD or C-PTSD can respond in a variety of ways. To dictate how a victim must act to be credible is to completely invalidate the trauma they have experienced. It does not matter to me that Amber Heard was not “believable” on the stand. Because I already believed her the first time.