Stars in Our Garden

Finding hope when you've been de-hoped

A few years ago our family arrived home on a late Summer evening after the Sun had set. We parked our car in the small paved lot on the far side of our modest backyard, a backyard we try each Spring and Summer to keep beautiful with gardens of flowering bushes, annuals, and perennials. It’s not often that our young children are out past dark during the Summer months when the days are longer. And so, while walking through the backyard to our house, our toddler looked up into the clear night sky and exclaimed with wonder, “Look at all the stars in our garden!” From her perspective, the sky was an extension of our backyard and the stars were part of its beauty.

A view of the night sky from a backyard in New Norfolk in Tasmania by Tap10

I’ve often used the metaphor of a garden when describing the experience of abuse in a seemingly trusting and safe environment; how the beauty of that garden brings hope and gives you reason to trust it enough to stay awhile and rest. But sadly, that garden can end up being a trap, a place created for the sake of coercing trust, and slowly you find yourself in a place of ugliness and decay wondering how and when things changed. You slowly become de-hoped as you suffer, often alone and in silence, over a protracted period of time.

Some people in that place of despair are fortunate enough to come across an unexpected source of hope - a star in the garden - perhaps a person outside of (or no longer negatively influenced by) the environment created and controlled by abusive power. These sources of hope might be a friend, professional counselor or therapist, journalist, or external authority. Perhaps that star in the garden is a resource (podcast, book, video) that helps you see more clearly and brings validation to your experience.

The sources of hope with the most potential for effecting change are those who matter to you and are in a position to do something about your situation. This might be a leader within the system who finally stands up for justice and begins to advocate for the truth - someone with influence who is willing to say, “I will join you in suffering. I will be a light in the darkness.”

Or this might be someone outside the system who can help enforce accountability, as I once experienced while caught in an abusive environment myself. It was a simple declaration of truth uttered years ago by an unexpected person that first opened my eyes to the full effects the abuse was having on my life at the time. I didn't realize it, but I needed someone to bring light to my situation, light that could penetrate and disperse the confusing and blinding darkness of abusive language.

That light first offered me a glimmer of hope when I called a local external agency to see if someone outside of my situation could assist with just one small aspect of my concerns. The person who received my call, whose name I’ll likely never know, listened to what I considered to be a relatively minor part of a much larger problem, and with compassionate anger in her voice said, “You shouldn’t have to live like that!”

It was the first time, in nearly two years of suffering in silence, that someone named the injustice and was upset by it. It still took me awhile to recognize I was in a trap. Traps are designed to keep you from seeing their purpose in the first place and leaving them once caught. But once light started pouring into my situation, I began to take steps toward freedom. More significantly, I started receiving support from others with influence and authority who chose to do something - and that made all the difference.

One reason I have hope for a safer future is because there seems to be an increasing amount of people who are willing to be stars in our garden. I think of the support people have found in online communities and the connections formed there among people with shared experiences and expertise. Survivors have found renewed meaning and what Robert Jay Lifton called a “survivor mission” by raising awareness and being an advocate. Investigative journalists continue to expose corruption. There is more content available to help us understand the dynamics of abuse, it’s impact, and what recovery can look like. And I hear more and more stories of people with influence who exercised their moral courage and stood with the abused, even at great costs to themselves.

Yet, the vast majority still carry untold, disbelieved, or ignored stories, slowly becoming (if not already) de-hoped. They hope to find a source of light, but have only been met with more darkness: betrayals that re-victimize, further silence, and de-hope. The telling of your story can be a daunting experience partly because you do not know what will happen to any remaining hope you might still have. Sometimes the abusive system actively works to keep you from those who would shed light on your situation. Too many people still reach a point where there is nobody left to tell, no more appeals that can be made, no more letters that can be written, no more reports to submit — no more stars in the garden.

So, whenever we are in a position to help and we choose to listen, affirm, and act justly, we help another become re-hoped. We open the possibility for there to be some way forward. We become a source of light in a darkening and decaying environment. And while there has been progress, there is much work to be done, particularly among people who are in positions of power and could use their influence to shine light in the darkness and provide a source of hope to those who suffer in their midst. Such sources of light must continue to grow and expand for there to be a safer and more just future. We all should be able to look up from whatever situation we are in and see stars in our garden.