Two Weeks Later: What Didn’t Happen
13 April 2025It’s been two weeks since the release of Chocolate Porcelain Doll, and everything I feared would happen… didn’t.
As humans, we tend to live in our heads a lot. We convince ourselves that people are hyper-focused on us — what we do, what we say, what we don’t. But the truth is… they’re not. We’re all just trying to navigate this strange, complicated world, one day at a time. A world that somehow manages to get more complex with each passing day.
There I was, the day before the release, in a total panic. Terrified people would judge me. That I’d be accused of lying. That I’d be attacked online. But the reality? The only comments I received were ones of encouragement. Not a word from the people complicit in the acts the song speaks about. Not even a blink.
This experience has taught me something profound:
People who hurt you don’t dwell on it. For them, it was just another Tuesday. And you? You’ve been carrying the weight of it ever since — obsessing over them, replaying it all, when in truth… they don’t even think of you. Not once.
Who are these people I’m referring to?
My rapist, yes. But the story doesn’t begin or end there.
The trauma started long before that one horrific act. What many don’t realise is that predators look for easy targets. And who are the easiest? The least protected. The children who no one “has to worry about.” The ones who learn early that their presence is a burden. That love, affection, and basic attention must be earned — constantly — just to receive the bare minimum for survival.
That kind of emotional starvation creates the perfect storm. It shapes children into adults who never feel safe. Adults who are trained to put everyone else first, who can't say no, who don’t want to “cause a fuss.” And yes, those are the people predators target. The ones who slip under the radar.
You’ve probably met someone like this — maybe even recently. Someone who’s still carrying a secret they’ve never shared. Still holding onto the shame of something that was never their fault.
Want to know how to spot them?
They’re the people pleasers. The quiet ones. The ones who work tirelessly behind the scenes but shy away from praise. They’ll often do twice as much work as everyone else, never complain, and constantly try to “earn their keep.” Their bosses love them. Their families lean on them. But it’s all rooted in trauma. They’ve learnt to be invisible unless they’re useful.
And you know what? It works. To the outside world, they seem reliable. Hardworking. Loyal. But underneath that, they’re exhausted. Often abused — not just emotionally, but in subtle, insidious ways. Because the world rewards trauma responses when they’re productive.
It took me years to connect my own workaholic tendencies to my past. When I finally did, I was furious. Furious at the systems and the people — especially past “bosses” — who celebrated how much I could endure. Who praised me for something that was, in reality, my coping mechanism. They too were complicit in the cycle of abuse. They just didn’t know it.
The more I dive into this healing journey, the more I see how untreated trauma spills into everything we do. It lingers in the background, shaping choices, relationships, careers — silently.
So, I urge you today:
Look around. Do you know someone who fits this description? Someone who works harder than everyone else, never asks for help, and always makes things easier for others?
Are you helping them… or are you taking advantage of their trauma response?
And if they ever do open up — if they trust you enough to show you their wounds — will you be able to support them without mourning the loss of your ever-reliable skivvy?
Let’s stop being blind to the obvious signs of trauma. Let’s stop praising people for working themselves to the bone in the name of survival.
It’s time we created spaces where people feel safe — not just useful.
—Carnita Bee
