Why I Believe the Menendez Brothers: The Messy Truth About Abuse, Trauma, and Self-Defense

 

Let’s talk about the Menendez brothers. Yeah, those Menendez brothers—Lyle and Erik—the ones who have been painted by the media as cold-blooded killers, greedy for their parents’ fortune. But that’s just one side of the story, and a very shallow, ignorant side at that. It infuriates me how uneducated people can be about the long-term effects of emotional, psychological, sexual, and physical abuse. People act like trauma leaves you with a tidy little scar that you can just cover up with a band-aid, when in reality, it leaves deep, festering wounds that can drive you to unimaginable places.

Here’s the thing: I believe Lyle and Erik were abused, and not because I’m some soft-hearted person who is easily manipulated by sob stories. No, it’s because the evidence supporting their abuse is overwhelming. There’s documented proof, witnesses, and therapy records that paint a picture of two boys who were systematically destroyed by their parents—emotionally, physically, and sexually. Yet, despite all this, people still choose to believe the narrative that they were just spoiled kids who snapped when their golden goose stopped laying eggs.

It’s honestly sickening. Why is it so hard for people to grasp the concept that being abused, especially by the people who are supposed to love and protect you, can make you do things that you wouldn’t otherwise do? In my eyes, the murders were an act of self-defense. Do you know what it’s like to live in constant fear of the people who are supposed to keep you safe? To have your mind twisted and torn apart until you don’t even know who you are anymore? That’s what happened to the Menendez brothers.

I think a lot of people underestimate just how harmful it is when you don’t have the kind of parents that every child deserves. The Menendez brothers’ childhood was a nightmare—a horror show of manipulation, violence, and abuse. That kind of trauma literally rewires your brain. It messes with your brain chemistry, alters your development, and leaves you incapable of forming the kind of healthy, loving relationships that most of us take for granted. When you’re supposed to be getting love, peace, and stability, and you get terror instead? That’s a recipe for disaster.

People love to judge from the outside, don’t they? They want to point their finger and say, “Well, if they were really abused, they wouldn’t have done X, Y, or Z.” Oh, so now there’s a guidebook on how abuse victims are supposed to act? A checklist of acceptable behaviors? Let me be clear: There is no such thing as a “perfect victim.” People who’ve been abused don’t come out the other side all sunshine and rainbows, ready to shake hands and forgive their abusers. Oftentimes, they’re angry, broken, and—let’s be real—sometimes unpleasant to be around. That’s the consequence of abuse. So just because someone doesn’t fit your neat little idea of what a victim looks like, doesn’t mean they weren’t one.

What’s truly harmful—and honestly, infuriating—is how society assumes how victims should behave or react. People want their victims to be pitiable, soft-spoken, and docile. But life isn’t a movie. Real life doesn’t come with a script where the bad guy gets locked up and the victim gets their moment of triumph. In real life, the trauma you experience seeps into every corner of your being. It warps your judgment, it fuels your anger, and it can push you to do desperate, tragic things.

So, when I look at Lyle and Erik Menendez, I don’t see ruthless killers. I see two boys who were cornered, broken, and desperate for a way out of a nightmare that had no end. Does that justify what they did? Maybe not in the eyes of the law. But from an emotional and psychological standpoint, it’s self-defense. They didn’t kill out of greed or malice; they killed out of fear and trauma. And until people understand the real effects of abuse—how it eats away at your soul and changes who you are from the inside out—they’ll never understand the Menendez brothers’ story.

It’s high time we stop expecting victims to fit into these neat little boxes we’ve created for them. Trauma is messy. Abuse is life-altering. And if we don’t start acknowledging that, we’re not only failing the Menendez brothers, we’re failing every other abuse survivor out there who’s desperately trying to piece their life back together.

Thankful for your presence, Neja