Why The Rage You Hear Isn’t Really About Kavanaugh

This article was originally written by MK Merrigan and has been adapted with permission for MK Advisors.

That rage you hear? The trembling screams and pointed fingers? This is not about Kavanaugh. 

I wrote an article last year called #NotThisOne as a tribute to a friend who treated me with the dignity and respect that any young girl needs to become a steady, resilient woman. He was one.

For every ‘one,’ there are several stories from every end of the spectrum. From being catcalled walking down the street, to innocence stolen in varying degrees and extremes, every woman can identify with that momentary flare-up of unspoken, and often unacknowledged, rage.

The reason the rage seems deafening is not because Kavanaugh personally violated any of these women, but because this topic has lifted the lid on the reality and the depth of the unspoken shame. #unspokenshame that otherwise dignified women have felt well up involuntarily when confronted with this constant flow of abuse reminders — streaming through our phones, on every television, and at every dinner table — with children asking questions of their moms because they now have vocabulary to put behind their previously wordless thoughts.

The lid has been lifted. The secrets are now broadcast loudly and sometimes fiercely through the #metoo movement and the actual loudspeakers protesting all over the nation. Like any healing cycle from trauma, confronting the reality and acknowledging the trespass require a power shift. This is usually an internal and very personal power shift, one that every woman has had to face, who has recovered from the pillage of their innocence. What we’re hearing relentlessly broadcast is a concert of voices of pain and shame. The trembling voice and the pointing finger is a woman finally acknowledging the reality of the abuse and the residue that trauma has left behind. If we ever wondered what PTSD looked like in action, turn on the news. Women in this nation are openly revealing the reality of their trauma and begging not to just be heard, but for someone — anyone — to lift the yolk of shame that unfortunately binds us all together.

Let us yell. Let us scream. Let us point our fingers. Let us lift our shame.

Because on the other end of that shame… is a collective of women — powerful in their forgiveness and humble in their judgement, wielding the greatest tool of all: empathy.

Let the broken mend. Let the shame fall. We will rise from this broken floor. Shatter the ceiling by standing tall.