#7 - That Time I Survived the Bystander Effect

Once upon a time I was a damsel in distress.

I don’t think I’m supposed to admit this. I feel society would tell me that as a woman I should be able to take care of myself at all times and in all situations. I can do it all the world tells me.

But, when I was 15 years old, I was raped by a group of boys from my high school. That night there were bystanders and they all chose to do nothing. In this moment, I was a damsel in distress. I was pinned down and violently abused. There were other boys present and they disregarded what was happening. As I feared for my life, these other boys stood around and drank, laughed, and looked the other way. I needed a hero, and instead got a bunch of cowardly lions.

In the weeks that followed my rape, the bystanders all ignored me. They pretended I didn’t exist. But, I remember their faces clearly. They haunt me in my dreams. They are who I fear the most. People who choose to do and say nothing as a violent crime takes place.

I have struggled to figure out how to label these bystanders – were they cowardly? Indifferent? Selfish? Evil? Scared? I have spent many sleepless nights wondering how someone could do nothing when something so wrong was happening. I also wonder if they even remember that night or if it was so insignificant to them that it faded from their memory long ago.

For a long time, their choice to do nothing caused me to internalize that I had done something wrong and I was to blame. If no one took responsibility, did that mean what happened was my fault? No, it did not. But, it took years of healing for me to understand that their lack of action meant nothing about me and what I survived.

After being raped, I spent much of my life being hyper-independent. I was so afraid to let people in. I prayed that I could do it all alone. But, the truth is, I can’t do it all alone. And even if I could grin and bear my way through life, what if I didn’t want to? What if I wanted to trust people again?

Through my years of healing, I have learned to take responsibility for my life and also how to start trusting people again. I’ve learned to discern and I practice developing trust slowly rather than giving it all away at once.  But, what about those moments where we don’t have time to vet a person, and we need to trust that they will do what’s right? How do I know I can trust humanity when I have seen first-hand how harmful humanity can be?

This fear of people and strangers repeatedly came up for me to look at throughout my healing journey. Time and time again as I felt fear in public places such as the grocery store or driving my car, I saw the faces of these bystanders and was reminded that people turned away in my darkest hour.

I began talking about this in therapy and we began to explore the bystander effect and how maybe those who witnessed my rape were influenced by what I view as a flaw in human nature.

Studies have proven that when people are in a group, they are less likely to intervene when something bad is happening. The main reasons for this are the diffusion of responsibility and social influence.

The diffusion of responsibility means that the more people present, the more people feel less personally responsible and assume someone else will intervene. Social influence refers to the idea that people look to others to see how they should act. If no one is saying anything or doing anything, then people convince themselves they don’t need to speak up or act either.

I saw how this was likely at play that night. I empathized with these bystanders. As a teenager, who doesn’t want to fit in? Who doesn’t conform? I know my teen self just wanted to be liked and accepted at that time, so why would it be different for these bystanders?

I empathize, but also, is conformity really an excuse for ignoring bad behavior? When do we hold people responsible? One person could have been courageous and it would have made all the difference. One person could have intervened while I was being raped, one person could have spoken up in the aftermath, one person could have asked me if I was okay or even have given me a smile in the hallway in the days and weeks after. In these moments, they chose themselves and their own comfortability rather than disrupting the norm.

As I reflected on the bystander effect, I realized this effect went beyond the night itself. Throughout my life there were so many moments that people stood by and watched me as I was drowning in an ocean of low self-worth and the aftermath of my trauma. I wondered if maybe my friends, family, professionals, and the school administration were impacted by this bystander effect as well. Maybe these people assumed someone else would intervene and help me. Maybe they told themselves I was someone else’s problem. Or that if no else saw a problem, maybe they were overreacting. I saw time and time again how people chose to look away because it was easier than stepping in and helping me.

I even realized that at some point, I became a bystander to my own pain. I diffused responsibility and blamed everyone else for how I felt, and I conformed to the behaviors of my peers, such as drinking and drugs. I blended in for a long time, I put social norms first, and ignored the screaming inside me that something was horribly wrong. I chose to fit in rather than admit that I had experienced something traumatic and that had changed me on every level. I also saw how the more I ignored my own pain, the more I ignored others who were in pain. When I turned away from myself, I inadvertently turned away from others who could have used a compassionate person.

I saw this clearly at the beginning of my healing journey. When I was 23 years old, a close friend of mine died. Michael Dolan and I had a bond that I’ve never been able to put into words. I felt safe and trust with him in a way I haven’t felt with many people. I saw how he had been struggling before his death, and I didn’t see it until it was too late. I was so mixed up in my own pain that I had not seen his pain. I carried so much guilt around his death. I often wondered if I could have been a better friend. What if I hadn’t looked away from his pain? What if I had been kinder? What if I had reached out my hand rather than looked away?

I couldn’t change the past, but I knew that in the future I didn’t want to be this person anymore. I wanted to be a hero, not a cowardly lion. The more I allowed myself to be honest with myself, the more I saw my own pain and so many wounds I had ignored for so long. His death woke me up from my denial.

So, what could I do to be the change I wished to see in the world?

I realized it was all about choice. Life is filled with choices and in each moment, I get to choose who I want to be. I could choose to be courageous or cowardly in each moment. I could choose love and compassion, or fear. It was a choice. It was my choice.

As I reflect, I see all the small choices by other people that made a difference in my life, and these choices were driven by courage rather than selfishness. I saw how one kind conversation could help me through the day, one smile could remind me that not all people were scary, one moment of seeing me in my pain could lift a burden, one hug could remind me I wasn’t alone. I began to see that one person truly could make a difference.

I also realized I was more powerful than I ever gave myself credit for. For most of my life, I felt so powerless. I realized that small acts of kindness and seeing the humanity in one another is incredibly powerful. Maybe these bystanders felt powerless too? If I could go back in time, I’d tell them that they too held so much more power than they realized,  but it was also their responsibility to be courageous. I do not view them as innocent in what happened. 

So, how do I know I can trust humanity? I don’t, and on some days I still fear that I am surrounded by monsters and cowardly lions. But, I’ve learned that I am courageous and will act even in the face of fear, and when I still fear I can’t trust humanity I now show up anyways because I know I can trust myself. I also know that I am a trustworthy person who would never turn away while someone is experiencing violence, and that assures me that the world of those around me is a safer place.

I’m no longer a damsel in distress. I chose to save myself, and I remind myself daily that every life matters, and that includes mine. Through this choice to save myself, I became the hero I always needed.