Apparently Diddy is 'OK.' And it doesn't matter if anyone else is.

The scariest thing about Sean Combs is his quiet ability to create a world where no one else’s comfort matters but his own.

Last week, the Diddy trial concluded the first of what is expected to be an eight week-long process. The lewd details from witness testimony was harrowing and disturbing — to say the least. The internet has been in a tizzy over the embattled mogul’s alleged behavior of coercion and violent intimidation. Without a doubt, the most notable — and stomach-churning — account was that of Casandra “Cassie” Ventura who was embroiled in a toxic partnership with Sean Combs for over a decade.

Despite my best efforts to avoid it, I couldn’t escape reading about the vile treatment Cassie was subjected to from the moment she (at 19) met Diddy (who was 37 at the time). Every detail was worse than the one before. And the bitter cherry on top? That she was recounting all of this while eight months pregnant with her third child. As a mother, I couldn’t stop thinking about her feeling gentle kicks from the life she intentionally created sheltered safely within her womb, all while being forced to revisit the life a monster intentionally created where her safety was an afterthought.

But of all the depraved details shared week one of the trial, this was perhaps the most disturbing:

The egregious nature of Diddy’s abuse has no doubt been disgusting. But I’ve been particularly struck by the seemingly small details that so clearly connote his character as a narcissistic and violent manipulator. Actions that many people would completely ignore. Ones that perhaps I’m familiar with because I’ve known abusers with similar character traits.

The scariest thing about Diddy is his quiet ability to create a world where no one else’s comfort matters but his own. Not even that of his children, who are presumably experiencing their own kind of hell watching their father’s trial. It’s why the Bad Boy founder’s former partner Misa Hylton, the mother of his oldest son, Justin Combs, was in attendance when her son said he needed her. Diddy’s young twin daughters, who have already grappled with their mother’s death, attended their senior prom only days after sitting in the courtroom. And yet somehow the wellbeing of their 55-year-old father is the one that is paramount.

At the 2022 BET Awards, while accepting the Lifetime Achievement Award, Diddy thanked Cassie for “holding [him] down during the dark times.” Many have speculated that was the moment that triggered his present downfall. For me, it was a clear sign of a continued attempt at abuse.

In that moment, Combs sent a message to Ventura who had moved on to become a wife and mother of two: I’m still in control.

What Diddy signaled in that speech was that he owned the narrative. He would control the story about his darkest time. Her experience, her perspective, her story didn’t matter.

Three years later, Diddy is doing it again. He’s cracking his knuckles while Cassie testifies. He’s passing notes to his lawyer during her testimony. He’s sending silent signals of intimidation and trying desperately to say: I still own you.

By saying “I’m OK,” Sean Diddy Combs sent a message to his family — and to us — that we should be more worried about his wellbeing rather than that of his victims. It’s why depraved men and women on the internet keep proclaiming Cassie was a willing participant rather than acknowledging that consent can’t exist when a power dynamic is present. Diddy wants us to believe that his hands — the ones responsible for the culture-shifting art so many of us grew up on — cannot possibly be capable of the unimaginable harm we’re hearing about in these testimonies.

And so he will likely continue to center himself throughout the next eight weeks. He will find a way to garner public sympathy. His defense will continue to decry that he is in fact the victim of social scrutiny for his lifestyle — one that they insist is obviously not traditional but not illegal. He will stare at the victims forced to face him in that courtroom. He will communicate nonverbally, and send silent signals. He will try to maintain control and push us to ask how he could possibly be coping with this character assassination.

But we must push ourselves to reframe the assumption that abusers feelings matter more than their victims reality. We must break out of our parasocial relationship with a man whose finger print is tattooed on our culture. Because after all is said and done, the harsh truth is Diddy might just end up OK. But his victims will not and that matters so much more.