“Why are they only speaking up now?” was a common assault thrown at those who chose to share their experiences of sexual, emotional or physical abuse at the height of the Me-Too movement. Multiple women would relive their pain to highlight the danger of another human being, and be asked, but why didn’t you say anything at the time?
Realistically, there are a whole host of reasons survivors of abuse may choose not to speak out, but one of which we are scarce to acknowledge when it comes to emotional abuse is that they didn’t actually realise.
This morning, news surfaced that Ryan Adams had been accused of emotional abuse by multiple women and more than a dozen associates, stating that he would dangle career opportunities in front of female artists while also pursuing them for sex. According to The New York Times, three of the women were in consensual relationships with the singer, including Mandy Moore – whom was married to Adams for seven years - Phoebe Bridgers and Megan Butterworth, who was engaged to him.
They all allege that he was controlling, manipulative and would roadblock career opportunities during the relationships and notably when they ended. ‘His controlling behavior essentially did block my ability to make new connections in the industry during a very pivotal and potentially lucrative time — my entire mid-to-late 20s,’ Moore told the New York Times.
Adams has responded to the allegations both online and through his lawyer. Outright denying further allegations that he knowingly engaged in an online sexual relationship with a girl of 15, (screenshots of which have been corroborated and reviewed by the New York Times) he apologized to women accusing him of emotional abuse. Calling the article ‘upsettingly inaccurate’ he claims some details ‘are misrepresented; some are exaggerated; some are outright false.’
‘I am not a perfect man and I have made many mistakes,’ he tweeted, ‘To anyone I have ever hurt, however unintentionally, I apologize deeply and unreservedly.’
Despite this, the women stand strong on their allegations, a group of seven who only came forward when they found one another and realised a pattern of alleged behaviour. ‘What you experience with him — the treatment, the destructive, manic sort of back and forth behavior — feels so exclusive,’ Moore continued, ‘You feel like there’s no way other people have been treated like this.’
It’s this feeling of isolation that causes many victims of abuse to remain silent, but it’s also the chorus of voices when accusations come out that allows many other potential victims to reflect on their experiences with the accused. We saw it with the alleged victims of Harvey Weinstein, Brett Kavanaugh, and many more notable men. In an essence, it’s survivor shine theory, whereby another woman validating your own experience not only allows it to be taken seriously, but also forces other women to question whether they too were mistreated.
Essentially, it’s how Me Too spread. Women sharing emotional abuse online forced others to look back into their own pasts, their own relationships, and wonder, ‘was that actually okay?’. ‘The campaign has done a lot to raise awareness of abuse - be it sexual, physical mental, emotional,’ says Beverly Hills, lead partner at Hills Counselling and Counselling Directory member, ‘In doing so, it has empowered and enabled people to come out from under the shadow of shame thereby breaking the cycle of abuse, along with the backing of other victims and supporters they have found a strength they may not have had if left alone.’
Shine theory, the idea that women are stronger when they come together to validate each other’s experiences, is a term originally coined by Ann Friedman and Aminatou Sow in an effort to encourage female friendship over competition. When we look back at the #MeToo movement at its inception, it’s exactly what made the campaign become so notable. Women affirming each other’s experiences, in turn strengthening each other. But it’s had an impact beyond just validating us, and questioning our own experiences, it’s opened a conversation whereby women can meet and discuss a shared love-interest, discuss the possibility of both being abused by the same person without stigma or fear of oversharing.
When an ex-partner warns us of a current one, we typically shy away, consider them disgruntled – as Adams’ lawyer has referred to his accusers - and so ignore the red flags. But should we be more open to discussing potential abuse with former partners? And without the fear of appearing as the jealous ex – a characterization that really only serves men who have something to hide – do we have a duty to warn others about emotionally abusive partners?
‘On the one hand, yes, we do have a duty of care to society,’ says Beverley, ‘on the other we may not know who we are talking to and what cognitive history that person may be carrying. What went down for one may not go down for another so we have to look at our own moral compass and do what feels right.’
And if we are warned? Beverley advises listening to your instincts and not immediately dismissing warnings, clouded by the notion that you can ‘fix’ someone. ‘People believe that “Nah, it won’t happen with me” or “I can fix them, no problem!”’, says Beverley, ‘That’s a mistake. No one can “fix” anyone, they have to want to change themselves. Communication between new partners is vital so ask questions, if something doesn’t sit right, if they are swerving or airing the question then it’s time to listen to your instincts, they are there for a very good reason; to protect you.’
For those alleging abuse against Ryan, coming together to share their experience has proven a powerful experience. Hoping to protect others and vowing to move forward, Moore finished the interview on one powerful sentence, ‘I want to make music, I’m not going to let Ryan stop me.'