Truth to - maybe to -lie.

Lie turning into truth in 2 days.

It is what we say to ourselves and how we allow others to influence our own truth. Many times after a sexual assault people try to sugar-coat, or even get the victim to “see” they do not really understand what happened to them. As well as others who know fully they can silence a survivor if they continue to feed a pattern of lies until those lies turn into truth for the victim.

While I was in the military I saw it hundreds of times, the victim saying they had been assaulted and the officer coming back with “well it might seem to have been that away” to by the end of the interview it was “yes we understand you thought this happened and we are okay that you recognize your mistake, thanks for coming to your senses.” Hard to see it when you only have the beginning statement and the end, what you do not see is the systematic ability to influence a victim into not just questioning their own version of the event but accepting the lies they are being told.

I saw it happen very innocently for a minor silly lie that really meant nothing during the art symposium this past week. This small lie was a joke in the beginning, it hurt nobody, it really did not matter to anyone, but it happened so easily and the person, once they were reminded of the lie could not believe it.

I was at this workshop, which really was just an all the time thing, Creation Station, a great idea to have art supplies out and you can just come in and create, no instruction, just grab and go, sit and talk, or sit and be quiet, no pressure, great. I would occasionally head to there when I did not have any women in the Woman’s Retreat Room. I could see if any women headed that way so it was perfect. I began to do a painting, just colors that I felt belonged on the canvas, abstract art. At the same time another was doing a beautiful picture of a tree. After my head injuries my ability for my hands to do what I want in precise detail to needed to do a painting of a tree that looked like a tree is gone. Another reason that I like abstract art, I am not remembering what I lost because of the injuries, dwelling on the past, my old self, just expressing the love for my own art now.

So here this beautiful picture of a tree is sitting waiting to dry, by it is my much smaller group of emotional colors that evoke happy joy of being to me. A person comes by and comments on the tree, how beautiful it is, (after commenting on how they liked my painting), but I liked the tree better than mine, in that if the two were at auction, I would bid on the tree. So out of just jokiness I thanked her for the comment on my tree. It was a joke and I immediately stated it was not mine, but the ability (from being law enforcement) of me to lie and it seem totally truthful overtook the person, they walked away and I, as well as the others sitting there, thought she knew the truth, that it was not my tree.

I saw a woman and headed to my room and a few hours later returned, the person in charge of the station, a wonderful woman with sincere love for people, commented that the person had returned and talked about my tree again, and that she had believed it really was mine, that the joking was that it wasn’t, not that it was. So we laughed and throughout the next two days joked about my tree.

At the end of the symposium I went to retrieve my painting, which I had added other stuff to and let sit there to dry. When I got there I said that I was there to pick up my painting, she looked and said that she could not find my tree. At first I thought she was joking, it was a running joke, we had talked about my tree for the past 2 days as if it was real, but an underlined joke. I looked to her and said what tree and she had not noticed that just saying it like it was true for the past 2 days, she now believed that it was my tree. I reminded her that it was a joke, that I had not painted a tree, and she stood there for a minute and the “wow” expression that came over her face, that in such a small amount of time, of pretending it became fact, real fact that not only did I have to state it was a lie but give her time and remind her of the exact situation why it was said that I painted a tree.

A simple lie, really a joking lie and a running joke that pretended a lie, two days later and it was fact for the very person who was there when I painted the abstract painting, who was next to the person who really painted the tree, which took hours next to her to do. She was there for hours next to the person, periodically looking over, watching the beginning of just blank canvas moved through the strokes to a beautiful tree. I was only there for my 10 minute abstract work then took credit for the tree, but in two days, of here and there talking about it, pretending I had painted a tree, and this person’s truth had change completely, and I was not even trying.

So think about if it was purposeful, that I had the position of authority (law enforcement, supervisor, in your chain of command, counselor, others) to purposely make that lie into truth. Like I stated, I have been taught (and very well) from the military how to lie, how to tell someone a complete lie and not give away any of the signs. When I remember the lie, make my eyes move from one place to another, to not curl the lip, to not squint, not look away, not look down, not have my voice change, not have the tempo of my voice change, to at the same time I am telling the person my name, there being no difference as I say I painted the tree. When you pretend the lie long enough it can become truth. I knew full well that at the final day she really believed that I painted the tree, and it was not just a simple, “remember I did not,” for her to remember the real truth. She knew I painted the tree at that moment as much and with the same conviction as when I first stated I painted the tree and she knew that I did not.

This tactic is used very often to victims to make them change what they know is the truth, to what the other would like the truth to be. It works by applying enough of the truth to make the mind slowly re-remember something else. I had painted a painting. I had been proud of my painting, it had been complimented on, I was there at the same time the other painting was being done, and I can lie really really well, to people’s faces and that is the tactic. It is not a statement on some form that it happened another way, it is to their face, agree with enough that you have them thinking you are helping them, then add what you need by small bits. Sometimes it starts with just a wondering question, “do you really think he thought that,” then it’s the adding in a form of a question, “maybe he thought…”, then you slowly change the way they perceived what happened until they are questioning their own thoughts and memories, accepting the other, denying their own. They came to law enforcement because they were under the assumption we all were there to serve and protect. They came for help from the ones who are there (their job) to help. They have seen law enforcement help, maybe even the same person they are talking to. They have been taught that they are there to help. But the biggest lie around is that there are ones who are not, not to serve you, not to protect you, not to help you. I saw it over and over, the assaulted soldier, the abused wife, the bruised girlfriend, the American civilian, the civilian, “maybe he…?” Do not think that this is something that happens only to the ones who assume, I knew exactly what they did, I knew how they felt, I heard from their own mouths their thoughts on the subject, and yet, when I was assaulted and I took it to my captain (law enforcement), I actually listened to the “maybe’s” not as much had I not known, but after that, after Social Actions asked “maybe” after my first sergeant asked “maybe” after the IG asked “maybe,” my truth began to turn to the lie of “maybe.”

Even recently (a few years ago) when I had the feelings, when I saw the red flags, when I knew, I had professionals, coworkers, supervisor, ask “maybe,” and I started to question my own truth to Maybe. I went to people who I thought had my best interests in mind, they did not. That is one reason why I continue to write in my journals, and if I have a question I turn to what I was thinking, feeling, knowing at the time, first. I turn to the truth and continue to remind myself that their maybes are NOT mine, their maybes are not true, their maybes are the same as the beautiful tree I painted.