Choose life

This image has absolutely nothing to do with the subject of this post. But I liked it.

As I mentioned in a previous article, I was sexually abused when I was young. This is obviously the kind of event that triggers a whole host of phenomena, reactions and reflections. For me, I went through a very difficult period years after the events, when they suddenly came back to me. Until then, my brain had completely ‘erased’ that moment.

What was difficult?

When you hear stories like this, you tend to think that the physical violence itself is the source of any psychological problems that may follow. But that's not really the case. For me, what disgusted me for a long time wasn't that an old man did things to me.

What disgusted me for a long time, and what today inspires only contempt, is the cowardice and complicity of the people around me at the time: my father, mother, uncle, aunt, cousins. So I was able to get over it relatively easily, because I chose to stand on the side of dignity, on the side of good and life. I erased all those complicit people from my heart. I saw them for what they were, for what they had done and what they hadn't done.

Let's take a quick look back. I'll keep it short. One day, an old guy came out of nowhere and befriended my cousin, who was just a child at the time. You have to admit, that's already strange. And this sickly, nervous old guy showered my cousin with gifts and fifty-pound notes, enough for his parents, my uncle and aunt, to get over their unease and convince themselves that it was all normal. This old guy had understood that you have to give money to greedy people, and too bad for the kid.

And then this old guy, who had become my uncle and aunt's incredibly generous friend, inevitably became a presence in my own parents' lives. He gained ground. So much so that one day, he suggested to my parents and my cousin's parents that he take us all to his place at the Cergy-Pontoise leisure centre for the holidays. This guy that no one knew, who was married but whose wife no one had ever seen, whose house no one had ever been to, managed to get two kids into his car right in front of their parents. You have to admit, that was pretty impressive.

The funny thing is that my dad was a police officer. All he had to do was type the guy's name into his computer to find out that he had already been convicted of indecent exposure and I don't know what else. And anyway, what kind of parents let their child go with a complete stranger who is sixty years old and looks completely dodgy without even thinking that something is wrong?

I left that man's basement (because we were staying in the basement) standing straighter than before, prouder and more dignified. It wasn't my place to back down, to lower my head or my eyes. I had nothing to be ashamed of. In reality, I had won and everyone around me had lost. To maintain this superb dignity I had acquired, all I had to do was refuse to have anything to do with these people. The family ties that are supposed to bind us together are nothing but an illusion that is easy to break. I just had to answer this question as I reviewed them one by one: ‘What would I objectively think of this person if they weren't my family, knowing what I know?’

It was easily settled. All of them could go to hell with their consciences under their arms. They were no longer my problem. They were nothing.

Forgive me for taking so long with this first part, but I think it's necessary for what follows.

What I really want to express here is that we have a choice. Always. We have the choice to be mean or kind, we have the choice to complain all the time or to look at the world with kindness, etc. We have the choice to define ourselves as victims, or not.

This is the fundamental lesson I have learned that has changed the way I approach life: I have not experienced anything worse than anyone else, including you, who may have also gone through something difficult. There is no hierarchy in any of this. I do not have to claim that my trauma is more significant than someone else's because...

I realised that I could choose between death and life. I could choose to always look at the dark side or the bright side. I could choose to complain and navel-gaze or take an interest in others.

Think about it for a moment. It's actually easy to be unpleasant to people; everyone knows how to do it. On the other hand, it's much harder to make an effort to be kind as often as possible.

It's easy to complain and blame others or life's famous events for all our failures and mistakes: ‘With what happened to me... I had this happen to me... etc., etc.’

Above all, I refuse to splash shit on other people. Why should my shit be something that others have to put up with?

As I said, it's easier to make someone cry than to make them laugh. And it's even harder to make someone laugh as much as possible, as often as possible.

It starts with yourself. Make yourself laugh as much as possible and as often as possible. Be the kindest person to yourself.

Try to be kind to yourself as much as possible.

And never forget that you don't have a monopoly on suffering, pain, problems, etc. Every person you meet could tell you a sad story about a moment in their life, and you'd be surprised. But most people don't. They make the wonderful choice not to.