Pheromones of a Victim

Why are we attracted to, or repelled by [yes, I know there is a spectrum of difference in between] a person? Is it mental, genetic, pheromonal, hormonal?

Allowing that I do NOT believe in the [non]Divine Plan notion, I would say pheromones are behind the attraction or abhorrence, even the disinterest of one to another.

Victims come into this world with an invisible mark. Victims are born, not made; although, of course the behaviour toward victims reinforces their victimhood.

I know the pattern. There is a photo of myself, aged maybe one year, & my two sisters: they are looking at the camera in way that they continued to BE for the rest of our lives.

The eldest is fawning, almost coquettish, although only maybe seven; the next is leaning into her bigger sister, confident, apparently normal. Me? I sit back, away from contact and look … amazed? confused?  I am the baby, here, but am sitting apart and have not leaned in and look gobsmacked.

Well, that explains a lot. All I can remember from this time is being smacked; smacked around; reviled…up until the age of five when my mother ‘got rid of me’ by sending me early to school.

That ‘look’, I cannot seem to replicate whatever it conveys in the mirror; had me face-slapped more times than i can count: screamed-at same…  “Get that look off your face!’ SLAM. “Don’t you dare look at me like that!” SLAM.

My mother was very disappointed to have me, a girl, when a boy was wanted. Then, when I was four…the difficult age when babies attempt to assert themselves with tasks they learnt or want to learn. SLAM.

Then, my first brother was born..and died at birth, probably from Spina Bifida [1957] and I wore the brunt of mother’s raging pain and disappointment. Sure, I realize she would have suffered mental and physical anguish in 1957, but I was too close, too demanding, too present and a girl…. So the pattern hardened.

We moved to the Hills not long after this disaster and I slept in the study off the kitchen …not the nursery, where my three years older sister slept, nor in the small bedroom up the hall from my parent’s room. My father came to my room when he came home late. My nightmares started.

When I awoke sobbing, screaming from my nightmares, it was always my undomesticated father who sat at the end of the bed. My mother never appeared. My father had often been drinking.

In a Federation-style house my cries would have been deadened by the thick walls of the many rooms separating me from my parents’ room.

Betrayal by mother, ccruelty by father, derision by sisters it is like an equation that adds up to Victim although I am sure there are many more equations.

So, just like Scientist have ‘discovered’ that psychopaths are born with their brains un- or re-configured to omit compassion, empathy, guilt, responsibility-for-actions; so a  Victim is born stamped with their Victimhood. In a crowd a Paedophile can choose a victim instinctively, so can a rapist, therefore, in a different sphere of recogniton, so can a bully.

 

 

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