When Resistance Echoes Patriarchy

Sexual abuse is one of the starkest reminders of patriarchal violence, cutting across culture, class, and geography. In recent decades, feminist movements have challenged silence, demanded accountability, and created new languages of survival. Yet there exists an unsettling paradox: in confronting sexual abuse, women themselves sometimes weaponize misogyny—reproducing the very patriarchal codes that oppress them. Instead of solidarity, blame and suspicion often become the response, directed not at perpetrators but at other women. This dynamic complicates our understanding of resistance, showing how deeply internalized misogyny can distort the fight against sexual violence.

The Legacy of Internalized Misogyny

Misogyny is not just hatred of women by men—it can also be adopted and reproduced by women themselves. Centuries of cultural conditioning, religious codes, and social expectations have taught women to measure themselves and each other against patriarchal ideals: chastity, modesty, obedience, and silence. As philosopher Kate Manne observes, misogyny functions less as individual hostility and more as a system of policing women, rewarding “good” behavior and punishing defiance. When women internalize these scripts, they may unconsciously perpetuate the same oppressive standards of patriarchy, judging one another harshly and aligning themselves with patriarchal norms as a form of survival.

When women internalize these scripts, they may unconsciously perpetuate the same oppressive standards of patriarchy.

This internalized misogyny becomes most visible in the context of sexual abuse, where instead of questioning the aggressor, women may ask of survivors: What were you wearing? Why were you out so late? Did you provoke him? These questions echo the language of victim-blaming, shielding men from scrutiny while placing responsibility on women for their own violation.

Respectability as a Defense Mechanism

One of the most common ways women fight sexual abuse with misogyny is through appeals to respectability. The “good woman” trope—dutiful daughter, devoted wife, modest worker—is invoked to distinguish between women who “deserve” protection and those who supposedly invite violence.

Mothers may warn daughters not to dress “provocatively.” Teachers may chastise students for “distracting boys.” Female relatives may urge silence after an assault, fearing shame for the family’s reputation more than justice for the survivor. These acts may be motivated by care, but they reinforce the patriarchal belief that women’s safety depends on their compliance with codes of modesty rather than men’s responsibility to respect consent.

Mothers may warn daughters not to dress “provocatively.” Teachers may chastise students for “distracting boys.”

In societies where honor is tied to women’s bodies, the pressure to conform becomes intense. Survivors of assault are often told to stay quiet to protect the family name, while others are blamed for tarnishing community honor. Here, women themselves become enforcers of misogyny, guarding the patriarchal system in hopes of survival within it.

Rivalry and Distrust Among Women

Patriarchy thrives not only by oppressing women but by dividing them. Sexual abuse becomes a site where rivalry and distrust are stoked. In workplaces, women may side with male bosses against female colleagues who raise harassment complaints, fearing that supporting the survivor could jeopardize their own fragile position. In households, women may distrust daughters-in-law who speak up against abusive male relatives, interpreting resistance as rebellion rather than courage.

This dynamic often emerges because women themselves face precarious security—economic dependence, social scrutiny, and reputational vulnerability. In siding with men, they sometimes believe they are protecting their own safety. Yet the cost is high: solidarity is fractured, and survivors are isolated.

Policing Desire and Sexuality

Misogyny also infiltrates the way women respond to sexual freedom. Survivors who are sexually active, queer, or defy conventional norms of desire are often dismissed with the claim that they “asked for it.” The unspoken logic is that women who step outside the boundaries of “good womanhood” forfeit their right to protection.

Survivors who are sexually active, queer, or defy conventional norms of desire are often dismissed with the claim that they “asked for it.”

This policing of desire is visible in public discourse, where survivors of abuse in nightlife, dating, or digital spaces are met with suspicion rather than support. Female figures in positions of authority—whether journalists, politicians, or celebrities—have sometimes echoed this suspicion, cautioning women against freedom instead of critiquing the entitlement that fuels abuse. By doing so, they reinforce the patriarchal binary between “pure” and “fallen” women, using misogyny as a shield against male violence rather than dismantling it.

The Weight of Survival Strategies

It is crucial to recognize that when women reproduce misogyny in these ways, it is not always out of malice. Often, it is a survival strategy in a system where speaking against men carries severe consequences. For many women, aligning with patriarchal codes provides a sense of security: if they conform, if they distance themselves from “reckless” women, they may believe they can avoid danger.

This is tragically ironic. By fighting sexual abuse with misogyny, women attempt to carve safety out of submission, not realizing that no amount of compliance guarantees freedom from violence. Even the most “respectable” women—those who dress conservatively, stay indoors, or obey social rules—remain vulnerable. Patriarchy does not reward conformity with safety; it simply shifts blame more effectively.

Breaking the Cycle

If internalized misogyny perpetuates harm, how can it be undone? The first step is naming it. Recognizing that misogynistic responses are not “natural” but conditioned opens the possibility of change. Education, dialogue, and feminist consciousness-raising play vital roles in dismantling the scripts of blame and silence.

Women must learn to recognize solidarity not as a threat but as a shield. When survivors are believed, when their stories are met with empathy rather than suspicion, the structure of misogyny begins to crack. Campaigns like MeToo demonstrated the transformative power of collective testimony: as women broke silence together, they undermined the isolation that fuels both abuse and internalized blame.

Women must learn to recognize solidarity not as a threat but as a shield.

Equally important is shifting focus from women’s behavior to men’s accountability. Instead of asking survivors what they wore, we must ask perpetrators why they felt entitled. Instead of urging silence to protect family honor, we must demand justice that restores dignity. Instead of dividing women into “good” and “bad,” we must recognize the universality of vulnerability and the need for collective safety.

 A Call to Reimagine Resistance

To fight sexual abuse effectively, women cannot rely on patriarchal tools. Misogyny may appear to offer protection, but it ultimately reinforces the very structures that perpetuate violence. True resistance requires dismantling victim-blaming narratives, rejecting respectability politics, and building networks of care that prioritize women’s voices over patriarchal anxieties.

This reimagining is not easy. It requires unlearning habits passed down through generations, challenging cultural taboos, and sometimes confronting women we love—mothers, aunts, teachers—when their words echo patriarchy. But this discomfort is necessary, for only by naming and rejecting internalized misogyny can women build a resistance that is truly emancipatory.

Closing Reflection

Sexual abuse is not only about individual violations but about a system that normalizes entitlement and silences resistance. When women fight it with misogyny, they end up reinforcing the very architecture of control they wish to escape. Yet within this paradox lies possibility: once recognized, these patterns can be broken.

Sexual abuse is not only about individual violations but about a system that normalizes entitlement and silences resistance.

Hope lies in solidarity that refuses division, in courage that refuses silence, and in feminist ethics that refuse to police women’s bodies and choices. The fight against sexual abuse must be waged not with patriarchal weapons but with the radical tools of empathy, justice, and equality. Only then will resistance stop echoing misogyny and begin dismantling it.

About the Author

I am Sanchari Mukherjee, a student doing Masters in English from the reputed Presidency University, Calcutta. I love writing and appreciate art in all forms. Being a literature major, I have learnt to critically comment on things of various kinds. I take a deep interest in deconstructing the various essential structures and revealing the mechanisms of their working. Really glad that you came across my blog, hope you found it covering some critical insights essential for progress!