I wanted to have been targeted by Mr. New Yorker Writer simply because I’d wandered into his line of sight and not because of anything particular having to do with me.
You are just the best Mimi! What a great piece of writing! I felt like we were sitting in the same room - like the old days - yakking and puzzling away at these questions that just go on and on. The anxiety that we somehow deserve the misfortunes visited upon us - that we have erred in some unforgivable way - or even erred unknowingly - haunts us. I am guilty of occasionally engaging in that tendency to "blame the victim" - which, as we're spoken about - is actually an attempt to assure myself that it couldn't happen to me...
No, you are the best, Moll! You just fulfilled a fantasy I had that someone might respond and bring up "victim blaming," because I start doing that with Bundy, and I worry that it's not clear that this is all irrational and in any case just sort of thinking aloud and not meant to be expository prose. There *is* no end to the way way keep revising and revisiting our notions of the past and the problem is how to reclaim a sense of agency without engaging in something I'm not even sure there's a name for, because I'm not sure "self-victim-blaming" works!
You are just the best Mimi! What a great piece of writing! I felt like we were sitting in the same room - like the old days - yakking and puzzling away at these questions that just go on and on. The anxiety that we somehow deserve the misfortunes visited upon us - that we have erred in some unforgivable way - or even erred unknowingly - haunts us. I am guilty of occasionally engaging in that tendency to "blame the victim" - which, as we're spoken about - is actually an attempt to assure myself that it couldn't happen to me...
No, you are the best, Moll! You just fulfilled a fantasy I had that someone might respond and bring up "victim blaming," because I start doing that with Bundy, and I worry that it's not clear that this is all irrational and in any case just sort of thinking aloud and not meant to be expository prose. There *is* no end to the way way keep revising and revisiting our notions of the past and the problem is how to reclaim a sense of agency without engaging in something I'm not even sure there's a name for, because I'm not sure "self-victim-blaming" works!