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Connecticut has a tradition we rarely name out loud: when violence happens to women, the system punishes us for surviving it.
We talk about justice.
We hold vigils.
We march when men are harmed.
But when the victim is a woman — especially a woman harmed by a man — institutions fall silent.
And we call that silence tradition.
Today’s political movements claim they are pushing progress — but many of them simply repurpose the same old patriarchal norms with new language. It’s the old system, freshly packaged, and women are still paying the price.
The Case That Revealed Everything
Years ago, I marched with Emma Jones after her son Malik was killed by an East Haven officer. She fought for years before the system finally acknowledged the wrongdoing. Later, she worked inside the New Haven probate court — one of the most quietly devastating institutions for women in this state.
Because inside probate, it doesn’t matter if you’re a survivor or an activist. The system has its own loyalties.
One young mother stood before a judge explaining how the father of her child had removed the condom on purpose because she refused to marry him. She wanted an education and a future. He wanted control.
The judge dismissed her completely.
His written ruling said only: “It is traditional for children to have the father’s last name.”
Tradition over consent. Tradition over autonomy. Tradition over truth.
When she told the judge, “You’re making this decision because I am not a man,” she was right. And she was ignored.
Emma was in that courtroom. She knew this mother. But she was also inside a system where speaking up comes with consequences for women — even for women who have survived their own tragedies.
And here is where everything collided:
You wouldn’t think that the weight of a system, a religion, and the instinct to survive could collide — but for women like Emma, they do. And when they collide, silence can look like agreement, even when it’s really a way to stay safe inside an institution that punishes women for speaking. But for the mother standing in that probate courtroom, that silence landed like abandonment. It felt as if Emma — another woman who knew what injustice looked like — had been forced to leave her behind to protect her own place in the system. She wasn’t just being judged; she was being fed into a machine designed to break her, a machine that rewarded the man who controlled her and punished her for resisting him. And in that moment, she realized something devastating: the system had arranged the room so that she would stand alone
That case wasn’t rare. It happens every day in Connecticut. A man manipulates. A woman resists. The system sides with him.
And the “progressives” who say they are fighting injustice?
More often than not, they defend these systems instead of dismantling them.
Nex Benedict and the Rewriting of a Woman’s Truth
Then came Nex Benedict, whose death became a political flashpoint. The public was told Nex died because of transphobia. But Nex’s own suicide note described something else — trauma rooted in family violence.
That truth threatened the narrative activists wanted. So the narrative was rewritten.
Here in Connecticut, public officials held moments of silence based on the fiction, not the reality. Nex’s real trauma disappeared. Her story became useful to a movement, not to women.
And when I clarified the truth online, BLM 860 blocked me, called me transphobic, and said I was “hurting the movement.”
Not because I was wrong — but because the truth wasn’t convenient.
This is the new “progressive” tradition: silencing women to protect a narrative.
Just like the old tradition, only with different hashtags.
Who Gets Outrage — and Who Gets Abandoned?
Black Lives Matter can mobilize the world for a man. But when the victim is a woman — especially one harmed by a man — the outrage evaporates.
The probate mother? Silenced.
Nex? Silenced.
Countless women in custody battles and coercive pregnancies? Silenced.
Emma? Elevated in grief, then expected to stay quiet inside the system that employed her.
Old tradition. New language. Same result.
The Truth Connecticut Doesn’t Want to Face
Women are punished for surviving. We are punished for speaking. We are punished for naming what men do to us. We are punished when our pain disrupts someone else’s politics. We are punished for refusing to marry the man who harmed us. We are punished for not aborting the child he forced on us.
This is not progress. This is not justice. This is tradition — repackaged as activism.
And I am done pretending it’s anything else.
Because if women keep letting systems, institutions, and movements decide when we are “allowed” to tell the truth… truth will never stand a chance.






