We’ve all been in situations or at least known someone at some point in our lives when revenge becomes a hot topic. The ‘cheating partner’ or the mean person at school/college/university/work.  Someone has betrayed you, made a fool or you, or you feel its your place to put them in their place.

But what about if someone hurts you very badly. What if someone demeans, demoralises, terrorises you, hurts you, shames you, wounds you, irreparable changes your life for the worst.  Impacts your entire life so enormously that life will never be the same, That the damage is so great, so deep that a part of you dies?

Other people, outsiders, they might suggest a form of revenge. To them, to the outsiders, it seems an obvious form of getting equal. Of getting peace. And I’m sure there are some people that having fallen victim to that, might agree.

I’m not to judge that. No one can judge anyone unless they have walked in their shoes.

But for me, revenge is something I could never truly comprehend. If I hurt someone physically, then surely I am no better than anyone that hurt me? If I incite fear, am I not repeating what was done to me? If so, what is to gain? Would I feel better? Or would I feel less of a person?  If I let someone else hurt someone for me, I am merely allowing someone else to break the law on my behalf. Why would I want someone I care about to break to the law and put their own future at risk?

I used to believe in the justice system. I consider myself a smart woman, Naive at times, but certainly not to the degree that I would have expected when it was put to the test. The justice system is seems, is not infallible. A very upsetting and shocking wake up call for me. But that doesn’t mean I believe people should become vigilantes and take the law unto their own hands.

I feel miserable that while I am left to carry a burden, others are left to be free.

When I was in the UK, I thought the ‘moment’ when a chance encounter would render me the powerful one. The smart words, the one in charge, no longer living in fear, in the shadows, But it was only a fantasy. It will only be a fantasy. The truth is, I’m scared. I will always be scared. When it comes to matters of the past I will always regress.

So I can fantasise about my moment when I am big and brave and the one in the control, but all it is is a fantasy.

Reality can be a brutal punch sometimes. But then, better to live in the knowledge that I don’t have it in me to be evil. That although at times it feels like insidious evil was forced into me, That I feel damaged and wrong. The truth is, I don’t have it in me to really do anything at all. Does that make me weak? Him win? Or me the better person? The riddle I will live with for eternity.


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