The Best Revenge

November 7, 2021

I recently learned that a good friend of mine had been raped. My shock and anger were magnified when I discovered that the rapist was also a friend of mine. And hers.

The three of us were part of a tight-knit Buddhist community in the 1970’s when this incident occurred. But “Melinda” never told us what had happened to her because, like many women who have experienced sexual assault, she blamed herself and internalized the shame.

However, during the 2018 confirmation hearings for Supreme Court Justice Brett Kavanaugh it was disclosed that as a young man Kavanaugh had allegedly raped a woman. Those hearings caused Melinda to revisit her own trauma and to realize that she had done nothing to encourage her assailant “Thomas,” and in fact had resisted his violent assault. She then understood that she could let go of her self deprecation because it was Thomas whose behavior was reprehensible, not her.

I don’t normally dwell on criminal behavior or violence, let alone write about them, because such conduct disgusts and angers me, and I don’t want to focus on the negative side of life. For that reason, while I’m aware of the Me Too movement’s efforts to hold powerful men such as Kavanaugh, Harvey Weinstein, and Bill Cosby accountable for their sexual harassment of women, I usually skip over the more lurid details because I don’t want to revel in depravity. But when such an incident involves two valued friends, it hits close to home, and is more difficult to ignore.

I’m not a feminist, and am ambivalent about the Me Too movement. But I generally have no sympathy for rapists or child molesters.

The more I thought about Thomas and his violence and Buddhist hypocrisy, the more I felt that he had betrayed not only Melinda but me and all of us who counted him as a trusted friend.

In my mind I confronted him, saying “You phony jerk! You don’t understand even the basics of Buddhism: cause and effect, karma, right action/right sexuality, kindness, compassion. You think that masculinity means that you are entitled to take something without permission? That might makes right?” And so on.

Yes, we all have a shadow side, and yes, we’re all hypocrites at one time or another. But I just don’t understand toxic masculinity. I don’t understand rapists. Desire and fantasy are fine, as long as they are between consenting adults.

After stewing about this matter for a few days, it occurred to me that perhaps I could offer my services as a go-between to Melinda and Thomas with the thought that a sincere apology from Thomas and an acceptance of his responsibility for his actions might be healing for both of them. But Melinda wisely rejected my well-intentioned but naive meddling, saying that she has no animosity toward Thomas nor does she have any interest in revisiting the incident with him. She has moved on with her life.

I can’t say that I’m as forgiving as Melinda, at least not yet. I’m still getting high from my sanctimonious grandstanding about the sins of Thomas. But if I’m honest with myself I have to admit that my sense of moral superiority will be short lived, because life has a way of reminding us of our own shortcomings.

Besides, as the poet George Herbert said, “Living well is the best revenge.” Melinda is enjoying a wonderful life of laughter and love. Her resilience and her ability to let go of the past are allowing her to explore a greater sense of her self and the meaning of life. Thomas and I would do well to emulate her example.