In my previous blog post titled "Why Didn't I Defend Myself", I shared the painful experience of being unjustly accused by a colleague's wife of attempting to steal her husband. I kept silent all the time until that blog post--an effort to document my healing journey from such a heartless act. I thought I had finally done with the horrible treatments until recently I once again received a message telling me to stay away. I had blocked her husband’s number, and never ever interacted again since that accusation was being thrown at me, and I was not even physically in the same country with him so it was perplexing why I was being bothered again. And what made me go back to the disappointment loop is the knowledge that she had reached out to my friends and colleagues--accusing me while shedding tears.

If someone’s wife tearfully tells you that a woman is trying to steal her husband, I believe it is difficult for us to not sympathize and incline to take sides with her, isn’t it?  

This kind of question reminds me of a story that sticks in my memory--a great reminder to never judge solely based on someone’s silence or speech. I have a good friend who was accused of pestering someone even when that someone already rejected him. Naturally, everyone believed these claims and viewed my friend in a negative light. In the middle of unpleasant words about him, after long thoughts, I told him, “I know you are a good person and I want to give you the benefit of the doubt. It would be useful if you can tell me your side of the story but even if you are never ready for that, know that I am always your friend,”

He thanked me but chose not to explain further, simply saying, “I will let you know someday,”. It indeed took him months to finally be able to open up about his experience. One day, he sat across me, exhaustion evident on his face, telling me that he quietly struggled of finding a way to cope with a rumor that was being spread by the other party. He revealed that he had been visiting a psychologist every week until he arrived at a point where telling the story didn’t shatter him anymore. (As evidence, he also showed me the letter from the psychologist).

“Instead, it was me who was being harassed,” his voice soft and trembling. “I was a victim of sexual harassment. It wasn't me pestering, just demanding an explanation. I know it is hard to process this information and believe it--especially when it comes from a man. But, that is my side of the story. It is okay if you don’t believe me,”

His voice shook me to the core, and I vividly remember his reddened eyes that simultaneously conveyed strength and vulnerability. His shoulders rose and fell visibly, as though all his efforts were insufficient to articulate his thoughts, as though he could crumble at any moment. I can see that even breathing wasn’t easy for him while brokenly smiling. Seeing that kind of smile, everyone, broke my heart every time without fail.

Holding back my tears, a profound realization washed over me. In this world, we easily empathize with those who openly display their feelings and tears. But what about those who silently weep, bearing their burdens in private? What about those who seek healing in silence while the accusers are loud and relentless? What about the hearts that quietly suffer as if they will die from the pains but still act calm and collected?

That day, once again I learned that sometimes, truth could be quiet and lies could be loud. That very moment, I made a solemn promise to myself that, even in times when my mind is clouded and judgment is easy, I would do my utmost to seek understanding from all parties involved. That is because I understood firsthand how it feels when people do not try to find my side of the story. Because I know how it feels when I’ve explained and nobody doesn’t really consider my perspective. Because I know how frustrating it can be when the people that I consider friends and colleagues stay quiet about what happened to me.

I took any steps further--even when the distance was already far. I backed off from the place where that someone's husband and I worked together because I am so done with all the dramas. Enough is enough. You can try to bring me down but know that Allah is watching. You can accuse me of anything but know that His angels record anything. And for the people that didn’t try to seek understanding from both sides or didn’t try to help when they have the opportunity to clarify, I am so sorry.

I am sorry that you could do better but decided not to. I am sorry that you could help someone who is being abused but decided to act like the pain she feel was nothing.

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Image by: Thanh Nguyen via Pixabay