The idea that vulnerability disqualifies you from safety is perverse. It’s a cruel inversion of morality, peddled by the very professions sworn to protect. Social workers (not all, but enough to matter), lawyers, psychiatrists, police—these institutions too often treat a traumatised woman as a nuisance, a liability, or worse, a fantasist. If you flinch, you’re dramatic. If you weep, you’re unstable. If you speak up, you’re paranoid. This grotesque logic renders a woman’s suffering not only invisible, but suspect. They do not ask, What happened to her? They ask, What is wrong with her? It’s psychiatry’s favourite bait-and-switch. Diagnoses fly like confetti—borderline, histrionic, treatment-resistant—as though medical jargon could smother the stench of misogyny. And the legal profession is no better. A woman under siege is told to document everything while her stalker moves freely, slipping through legal loopholes like grease through fingers. The solution is not to plead more pre...
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