Hi! My name is Myriam Gurba, and I enjoy curating safe spaces for survivors.
If you’re a survivor or someone who loves survivors, welcome!
If you’re an abuser, bye! I hope that the door hits your deceitful ass on your way out.
Music brings spaces to life and the soundtrack playing here includes “Survivor” by Destiny’s Child, “I Will Survive,” by Gloria Gaynor, and “Goodbye Earl” by the Dixie Chicks. Feel free to DJ and add to our playlist.
Like many women who are multiply marginalized, my survivor resumé is quite extensive. For starters, I survived childhood in the United States of America.
I survived the fashion trends of the 1980s. I survived Catholic high school. I survived eating a weed brownie that was the size and consistency of a large adobe brick. I survived the first Trump presidency, and like you, I’m surviving the second Trump presidency.
Many ordeals have challenged me, but none were as fucked up as enduring rape and domestic violence. The men who hurt me tried to murder my soul. I’m here to tell you that they failed.
When I disclose that I’m a D.V. survivor, I sometimes get beautiful, loving, and trauma-informed responses that make me happy to be alive. I also get unpleasant responses that show me who’s ignorant at best and who’s dangerous at worst.
One of these icky responses is, “You? But you’re so . . . strong!”
Another is, “You? But you’re so . . . smart!”
There’s no personality trait that’ll spare a girl from gender-based violence under patriarchy. As long as we live in a society that enshrines male supremacy, neither you nor I will ever be pretty enough, strong enough, smart enough, rich enough, talented enough, or fast enough to escape the clumsy arms of male supremacy.
Any measure used to limit the freedom of women, girls, and femmes constitutes gender-based violence. People are often quick to condemn G.B.V. when the perpetrator is a stranger. When it’s someone they know, not so much.
While I’m often tempted to kill rapists, I make art instead. Words are my primary medium, and I’ve written some very personal books about my survivorship. To better support girls, women, and femmes, I also trained to become a counselor-advocate for survivors of sexual assault and D.V.
After receiving my certification, I banked a lot of hours volunteering for a crisis hotline here in L.A. County. Hotline workers prepare to be flooded with calls when famous men are outed as rapists and abusers. These revelations often trigger survivor distress. After Ana Murguia, Debra Rojas, and Dolores Huerta revealed that Cesar Chavez had raped and abused them, crisis hotlines lit up with survivors seeking comfort, guidance, and material resources.
Inspired by the bravery of Murguia, Rojas, and Huerta, other Chicanas have stepped into the spotlight to share stories of survivorship, revealing that they, too, have been raped and abused by Chicanos in movement spaces.
Since The New York Times published its exposé on Chavez, I’ve been flooded by private disclosures from survivors seeking help. Some of the perpetrators whose secrets I now know are men you’ve probably never heard of. Others are household names. The reckoning with Chavez’s legacy of abuse has rattled the Latine community, and the well-being of survivors remains my primary concern.
When I’m working the crisis hotline, callers often ask, “How can I support someone who is going through D.V. or sexual abuse?” I usually answer by asking the caller if they can define D.V. and sexual abuse.
I do this because a lot of people misunderstand these problems. D.V. isn’t just a shitty relationship. It isn’t caused by anger management problems or ineffective communication skills. D.V. has one cause: male entitlement. D.V. has one purpose: to enforce female submission.
Abusive men believe that they are entitled to authoritarianism in their romantic relationships. He imprisons his victim, capturing and isolating her in an invisible cage. One of the most powerful weapons that he uses to achieve his dominance is isolation. Sexual abusers also isolate their targets.
To support a survivor in captivity, remain connected to her.
Maintain a relationship with her. The abuser seeks to sever as many friendships and meaningful relationships as he can because they represent escape routes.
The connection that you nurture with the survivor can be simple. It can be a weekly text. An offer to go shopping with her. An invitation to lunch. She might decline your invitation, but that doesn’t matter. What matters is that you are showing her that when she’s ready, you’ll be there. The survivor will disclose the details of her unique predicament at her own pace.
When she’s ready, she’ll tell you what she wants to tell you. Remember that she’s only going to do that if she trusts you, and trust is earned.
Honor the survivor’s expertise.
She’s the world’s greatest expert when it comes to her abuser. She knows what he’s capable of. You don’t. When I was going through D.V., I studied my batterer like an anthropologist. I learned him inside and out. I had to. My life depended on it.
A survivor’s wisdom and expertise will help her to determine if, and when, it's safe for her to ask for help. When a survivor flees an abusive man, there is no “break-up.” Instead, the captive is launching a prison break, and departure comes with risks.
The abuser’s perception of the woman as his property makes fleeing dangerous. “Break-up” conversations with an abuser can trigger violence. In some cases, face-to-face “break-ups” are a precursor to murder. Many well-intentioned people who’ve pressured survivors to “just leave” have regretted it.
When I walked away from my abuser after telling him that our relationship was over, I felt his hands grab me by the throat. He dragged me across the floor, strangled me, threw me on the bed, and raped me. I didn’t contemplate escaping for another year and a half. That’s how scared I was of him. He had shown me what he was capable of: murder.
On the night that I finally escaped, I drove to a safe house. Friends had organized for me to hide there. My abuser followed me to the house. Friends patrolled outside of the house and confronted my abuser when he came looking for me and tried to enter the house. In my capacity as a counselor advocate, I have worked with survivors and their loved ones to strategize similar escape plans.
When you’re on the outside looking in, some survivor behavior might seem strange, disturbing, or out of character.
This seemingly odd behavior is likely an adaptation to abuse. For instance, many people who are surviving abuse engage in self-harm. My abuser once caught me picking at a scab until it bled. When he noticed red dotting my skin, he flew into a rage, grabbed me, and shook me.
Next, he commanded me never to make myself bleed again; only he was allowed to make me bleed. My abuser was savvy; he understood that picking at my own wound was an assertion of self-ownership. His response was an intentional erasure of that, a re-assertion that he was master of my body.
If you notice survivors behaving in similar ways, respect that these actions are often the only available expressions of bodily autonomy for us. Once we get free, the need for such practices is likely to fade.
People who love survivors often ask, “How can I participate in my loved one’s recovery from D.V. or sexual abuse?”
Healing from these harms is a lifelong process, and several common factors often delay recovery. Abusers hate to lose control, and once a survivor takes steps toward freedom, abusers often initiate stalking campaigns.
This form of intimate terrorism makes you, the target, feel like she’s being hunted because that’s exactly what’s happening to her. To end the campaign of terror, some women return to their abusers.
Character assassination can also prolong a survivor’s ordeal. Abusers often start whisper campaigns, spreading lies about their victims. Rapists do this, too, and the most self-serving lie that they tell is that the survivor is crazy. D.V. perpetrators may weaponize accusations of unfaithfulness to justify their violence as a “crime of passion.”
Once a survivor makes strides towards freedom, she’s also likely to experience institutional betrayal. The institutions that she was taught to see as protectors may turn on her. Her boss might fire her for being “difficult.” Her landlord might evict her. Her friends might abandon her. The police might laugh at her. While these processes are ongoing, the survivor is unlikely to experience much recovery.
In the aftermath of abuse, survivors need a stable home, money to fund recovery, and reliable companionship.
I stayed with several trusted friends after I escaped. Once I felt stronger, I got an apartment and lived alone for the first time in my adult life. I spent much of my time grieving. Abusers steal a lot from survivors, and we need time to honor that.
Some of what abusers take can be recovered. Some of it can’t. One resource that we never recover is the time stolen from us. In my case, I lost years. To heal from that theft, I had to mourn the life that I could have had. Surviving costs time. It also costs dollars.
When I escaped D.V., I had to start my life over again. I abandoned much of my wardrobe. I didn’t bring much furniture with me, and some of what I did have I wanted to replace. Who wants to eat at a table that their head has been beaten against? Not me.
Surviving D.V. and sexual abuse often makes survivors sick, very sick, and our awful healthcare system can make things worse, saddling us with medical debt and bankrupting us.
When the cost of surviving is totaled, the math is staggering.
In 2016, the Centers for Disease Control determined that the estimated lifetime cost of rape per victim is $122,461, including “attributable impaired health, lost productivity, and criminal justice costs from the societal perspective.” Adjusted for inflation, that’s $168,913.95 per rape.
Meanwhile, the national average wage hovers around $70,000. To help someone heal from sexual abuse or D.V., one of the most effective things you can do is offer unconditional financial support. Give survivors money with no strings attached. The California Victim Compensation Board also covers some crime-related expenses, and applications are available on its website.
I get hopeful when people ask, “How can we create and sustain communities free from gender-based violence?” Such communities are not a utopian dream. They’re a very real possibility.
For inspiration and guidance, we can look to the past. The epidemic of gender-based violence is relatively new to these lands. Filthy European colonists brought it here in 1492. Settlers used mass rape to destroy the matriarchal and egalitarian societies that thrived on these lands.
To revive and recreate these societies, we must acknowledge that patriarchy is real. We must acknowledge that it works by promoting perpetual war against girls, women, and femmes. Your job is to decide which side of the war you’re on and commit to that fight.
When survivors disclose that they have experienced gender-based violence, start by believing them.
Give the survivor time and grace. Let her make mistakes as she moves towards strengthening her autonomy. Support her in her quest to reclaim herself and her sovereignty. Don’t tell her what to do unless she asks for your advice.
If you have the power to remove an abuser from power, publicly throw the piece of shit out on his ass. Kicking the creep to the curb will accomplish several important goals. First, it shows other abusers that there are consequences:
Unemployment. Career death. Disempowerment. Public humiliation.
Do not give these charismatic assholes a second chance.
Remind them that they’re lucky that Juana Belen Gutierrez de Mendoza isn’t in charge. A Caxcan intellectual and Mexican revolutionary, Juana had nothing but contempt for rapists.
When troops reported to her that one of her men had raped a female captive, she ordered him to stand before the firing squad. Emiliano Zapata rewarded her for her toughness, giving her the rank of colonel.
Let Juana be your guide.
Next time you’re dealing with an abuser, and you’re not sure what to do, just ask yourself, “What would Colonel Juana Belen Guterriez de Mendoza do?”
And then do it.
