Would you Be the “Perfect Victim”? I sure won’t be….
In a society that claims to stand for justice and equality, the concept of the "perfect victim" looms over women like a shadow. The perfect victim is quiet, likable, flawless in character, and has an airtight case. She doesn’t make mistakes, doesn’t have a complicated past, and certainly doesn’t challenge societal norms. If she does, her credibility is stripped away, often before she’s even allowed to speak.
Recent events surrounding Blake Lively’s lawsuit have shone a glaring spotlight on this deeply ingrained issue. Despite presenting clear evidence, much of the social media discourse has revolved not around the merits of her case but around her perceived "unlikability." Comments like, "I don’t believe her; she’s too privileged," or "She always seemed fake," flood timelines, reducing a serious allegation to a referendum on personality.
What does this say to women who don’t meet society’s arbitrary standards of perfection? To survivors who are messy, loud, imperfect, or, heaven forbid, angry? It tells them their truth is only valid if they play by the rules of likability—a rulebook written by the very system they’re fighting against.
The perfect victim narrative doesn’t just harm survivors; it protects perpetrators. If we demand flawlessness from those who speak out, we leave countless voices unheard and untold. This dynamic forces women to question their own worthiness of justice: Did I dress too provocatively? Was I too assertive? Will anyone believe me because I’ve made mistakes?
I won’t be the perfect victim, and frankly, I don’t want to be.
Because the perfect victim is a myth designed to uphold a status quo where justice is conditional. I will not soften my voice to make others comfortable. I will not tailor myself to fit society’s expectations.
And neither should you.
Instead, we need to challenge the narrative. Believe women, even when they appear imperfect. Support survivors without requiring them to prove their worthiness of empathy. Stop equating credibility with likability.
As we watch how Blake Lively’s case unfolds, let’s use this moment to reflect on the systemic bias that silences survivors. Let’s recognize that assault and harassment don’t discriminate based on personality traits—and neither should we.
The next time you see a woman standing up for herself, ask not if she’s likable but if she’s telling the truth AND be aware that her truth telling might make you really uncomfortable. Because the real question isn’t whether someone is the perfect victim; it’s whether we’re ready to become a society that believes them without requiring perfection.
