“But She Stayed…”: Understanding the Soul of a Victim

The Headlines and the Harm Behind Them

Unless you’re living under a rock, all of social media and even the news has been overly consumed with the case of Sean “P. Diddy” Combs. While the case is full of testimonies from witnesses, media has, in some strange way, twisted it into a case of him versus his ex, as if that’s what he’s actually on trial for. But that’s not what I want to discuss here. That’s just background.

What I really want to highlight are some of the statements I’ve seen repeatedly all over social media. The first is, “Why did she stay?” and the other is, “But she stayed, it couldn’t have been that bad,” or worse yet, “She wanted it.”

What People Don’t Understand About Trauma

This case is triggering for many who are victims. There’s so much people don’t understand about trauma, and because of that, they speak some of the most insensitive things. They don’t realize that there are people who have kept silent for years for this very reason.

Shame. Guilt. Feeling like they should have done more. Wondering if they didn’t fight hard enough. Self-blame. Thinking maybe they somehow asked for it or put themselves in that situation. And sometimes, the offender is someone you know, or even someone you love, trust, or grew up around. A relative. A family friend. So then the question becomes, would anyone even believe you?

For some, it’s not just about being believed. It’s wondering if speaking out will cause a rift in the family, or if they’ll be blamed, dismissed, or hurt even more for coming forward.

The Survival Strategies Nobody Sees

With so many questions and uncertainties, victims learn how to put on a facade. They learn how to smile while crying on the inside. They compartmentalize their experiences in a way that represses the memories and numbs the effects of what happened. They disassociate, remove themselves from reality, and try not to feel.

It’s not attention-seeking, and it’s not being dramatic. It’s survival. It’s a form of self-preservation.

Tamar’s Silence and Her Desolation

In 2 Samuel 13, after Tamar was raped by her half-brother Amnon, her other brother Absalom told her, “Be quiet for now, my sister.” And the next thing we’re told is that Tamar lived in her brother’s house, desolate.

Not comforted.

Not protected.

Not healed.

Just desolate.

That’s what silence does. That’s what trauma left unspoken becomes.

Survival Doesn’t Always Look the Way You Think

We don’t talk enough about what that silence does to a person. We don’t always understand that survival doesn’t always look brave or strong. Sometimes it looks like staying. It looks like silence. It looks like doing the things the offender likes, because if you’re compliant, maybe they won’t hurt you worse. Maybe you’ll feel safe for a second. Maybe it’s the only connection you have left, even if it’s warped and twisted.

And sometimes, when you’ve been stripped of all your dignity, it becomes hard to recognize the difference between true love and survival. At that point, it all looks and feels the same.

Why She Stayed

So yes, she stayed. Maybe you stayed. Maybe someone you know stayed. From the outside looking in, people don’t understand what would drive a person to stay in such situations. Trauma teaches you how to survive some of the most horrible circumstances.

She stayed because, somewhere deep inside, she may have believed that staying was safer than leaving. By this point, the soul, which is the seat of the mind, will, and emotions, has been damaged in such a way that it forever changes how a person sees life and people.

Why These Conversations Belong in the Church

And this is exactly why we need to have these conversations in Christian spaces. Not just behind closed doors in therapy offices, but in pulpits, Bible studies, women’s fellowships, and ministry trainings. Because the Church is often the first place people turn to when they’re broken, but too often, it’s the last place where their stories are believed or understood.

People don’t walk through the doors whole. They come in bleeding. They come in with years of unresolved trauma, identity confusion, abuse, addiction, and soul wounds so deep that quoting a single Scripture isn’t going to fix it. And the truth is, many churches simply aren’t equipped to handle that level of brokenness.

Creating Space for Real Healing

This is where we have to grow. Sometimes, it’s not just about delivering a sermon. It’s about providing a safe space for people to breathe. A space where they can walk through the process of healing in Christ, not just going through the motions of religion, but experiencing true soul restoration.

And yes, that healing may need to be coupled with clinical therapy, counseling, or support groups. But at the core, the Church must learn how to love the wounded without making the wound worse. We have to stop rushing people to be okay and start learning how to walk with them through the messy middle.

That is ministry.

That is discipleship.

That is Christlike compassion.