Is Abuse Ever Subjective?

Who gets to decide whether you hurt?

—The problem with verbal abuse is that it’s subjective, said a friend after I published my piece, But Does He Hit You?.

I get where he’s coming from, but at the same time, the statement rubs me the wrong way. This was largely what I wanted to touch on with the article; that the elusive nature of psychological abuse makes it hard to pinpoint.

Without the physical bruises and scars, how do we even know it’s real? This question haunts victims of such abuse to the point where it does their heads in: Is it really happening or am I going crazy?

We are what we do

— Your abuser would probably not agree to his actions being called abuse, my friend continued.

He’s right about that too. But, is it really up to the abuser to decide whether or not they’re abusing?

When I eventually confronted my narcissistic ex about their behavior, he begrudgingly accepted some responsibility:

—I was abusive, but I’m not an abuser.

Applying this rationale I’d like to ask; can you rape, but not be a rapist? I think not. You certainly can’t kill without being a killer. Not even once.

In the case that you kill by accident, it’s referenced to as manslaughter, which dictionary definition is the crime of killing a human being without malice aforethought.

Abuse = Repetition + Malice Aforethought

Abuse can be defined by exactly that: repeated occurrences of a premeditated desire to cause harm.

I’ll use physical abuse to demonstrate, simply because it is more clear-cut:

— I recurringly beat someone, but I’m not a physical abuser.

That statement wouldn't fly!

But let’s say you, for whatever reason, hit someone once, then apologized and made sure it never happened again. It’s possible that you simply made a mistake.

Repeat that a few times, and you’ll be labeled violent. Beat someone recurringly, over time, with no intention to desist, and you’re an abuser, without a doubt.

Abuse isn’t compulsory

When an action is consciously repeated, it is, per definition, premeditated. We might accidentally hurt someone we care about once, or a few times—then learn from and correct our behavior. But it’s no longer accidental when you harm someone, routinely, for months, years or even decades.

Just like how your fist won’t accidentally move, beyond your control, to punch someone in the eye—as if it had a life of its own—there’s no such a thing as accidentally manipulating, gaslighting, name-calling, stonewalling or raging at someone, regularly and over time.

Abuse is calculated—but not easily calculable

The truth is that there are grey zones, and there are levels of severity in all areas of abuse, crime or misconduct. Stealing a chocolate bar from the kiosk isn’t as bad as robbing a bank, but it’s still thievery. Cutting someone’s finger off is slightly less gruesome than taking the whole hand, and so on.

The problem is that it’s often a slippery slope: if they take your finger, how do you trust that they’ll stop there? Maybe they’ll continue until they take the hand, or worse, the entire arm? Second, taking your finger in the first place is pretty damn bad — even if it could be worse.

Emotional abuse is a big river made up of many small streams

Psychological abuse is complex for many reasons because, besides being invisible and hard to prove, it’s usually composed of a multitude of minor feints that won’t always sound severe to an outsider, especially when presented as isolated instances. But when all these seemingly small infractions amalgamate, the impact is monumental.

For example, if I were to tell you that over ten years of sharing meals together, my narcissistic ex filled my water glass less than a handful of times without being prompted, it doesn’t sound so bad, right? Then, imagine multi-folds of these types of instances coming together. Each of them more elusory than the next, but together they become immense.

Abuse doesn’t always look like violence

Abuse Is in the Moments Leading Up to Violence, writes Octavia Morrison in her heartwrenching story, where she concludes by saying:

It’s not even the violence that is the most terrible. It’s the slurred words, imperceptible glances, and microscopic gestures that add up, drop-by-drop, to fuel an unstoppable missile bound to destroy me.

People make mistakes. Where do we draw the line?

If slurred words and imperceptible glances can be abuse, are we not all abusers?

Again, it’s about the repetition of a premeditated wish to harm. Most of us have, at one point or another, acted in ways that, if repeated, would be labeled abusive. This doesn’t mean we’re all abusers. We’re human, and humans make mistakes.

The difference is that most of us are able to own up to our mistakes, attempt to change destructive behaviors and not repeat them. When told that our actions are hurting someone, we listen and try to amend.

Abusers, on the contrary, will refuse responsibility, and insist that their behavior is perfectly fine, despite repeatedly being told otherwise. They tend to blame their victims, instead of attempting to understand. Further, they will insist on continuing with their patterns, not caring how they’re affecting others.

Abuse is not subjective —especially not to the abuser

I was hesitant to quote someone who’s admitted to several incidents of sexual misconduct, but this statement by Louis C.K. so perfectly illustrates my conclusion, and in ways, the author’s own history makes it oddly fitting in this context.

When a person tells you that you hurt them, you don’t get to decide that you didn’t.

The only way that abuse ever gets to be subjective, is from the perspective of the one experiencing it. Because we all have different boundaries and triggers, as well as distinct needs and wants from our relationships, something that hurts me might not hurt you in the same way, and vice versa.

Verbal Abuse Authority, Patricia Evans, defines it as follows:

It’s a lie told to you or about you. Generally, verbal abuse defines people, telling them what they are, what they think, their motives, and so forth.

So, no, abuse is not subjective, and it’s not up to the abuser to decide whether or not they’re abusive. In other words, if you tell me that my actions hurt you, I’m not granted the privilege to disagree. If I did, I’d be telling you a lie to you, and about you, which is, by definition, abuse.