TRIGGER WARNING: The following article discusses SA and r*pe in detail.
I was raped. I didn't report it. Typing it is hard even though it happened 24 years ago.
Should I not be believed now because I did not file a police report in 1994? If my attacker was to run for, let's say a president or judge, would you expect me to just not say anything?
I didn't report it because I was scared. Deathly afraid of not knowing who to trust. This was a person that was known to me and people around me so who was going to believe me? I was an 8th grade girl. He was a closer to 30 year old male. He had influence over the other people closer to my age where we lived. People liked him. I couldn't tell anyone because at one point I thought he was cute. You know, a middle school crush.
At the time though that was enough to make me not talk. I blamed myself. He used a boy my age and strong intimidation tactics to get me to open the door when he knew I was home alone. But it was still my fault for opening the door. Why did I open the door? I didn't scream. There were people outside. Maybe they could have come to save me. But it was so embarrassing. It was my fault. Instead, I cried “no no no no” quietly and repetitively in my attackers ear the entire time. He didn't seem to mind. He didn't threaten me when he left. I was scared to move, but he just left like “See ya later!”.
So what had just happened? Maybe I was wrong? As girls we are trained to doubt ourselves. To make others comfortable. Be nice. Don't rock the boat. I must just be confused. Everything about it seemed wrong, but what I was taught about rape hadn’t just happen. Nothing like the movies or newspaper articles. A stranger didn't jump out of an alleyway with a gun. I didn't scream and kick and bite until I couldn't fight anymore. He wasn't wearing a mask. He didn't threaten me or my family. He just left like it was no big deal.
What he had done was enough for me to be too scared to talk. He had already proven to me what he was capable of and that I wasn't even safe in my own home.
Crazy enough, I was actually grounded for the incident. He apparently had done it to several girls in our apartment complex that summer and with rumors swirling about my parents actually heard that it happened to me. However, when I tried to explain to my mom what happened I was just considered promiscuous and she grounded me for the rest of the summer. My dad never spoke to me about it because it was too awkward, I'm sure. So, I didn't talk about it for several years.
It's a story that I've told to those I trust over the past couple decades because I hope it helps. A story told as a warning to the girls closest to me. A story told to guys in my life when I had to explain moments of sheer terror during intimate moments. A story that makes people uncomfortable. A story that I continue to tell because it's the only way I know how to heal. I have to use my pain. So I always knew I would write my story down at some point but didnt know when.
So here's a little advice if you need to help someone through it or do not even understand it yourself.
DO NOT question if she did all she could do to avoid or fight off the attack. I was literally paralyzed with a fear I've never known since.
DO NOT judge how a woman decides to share her story. Everyone has their reasons for sharing or not sharing. It feels embarrassing, shameful and makes others uncomfortable when you tell them.
DO NOT place a timeline on how long ago the attack was on whether or not the woman is to be believed. My story happened 24 years ago and if I found out he was going to be a person of power or influence I would definitely share/report my story! I am not that scared girl anymore. I would be brave enough to tell my story and face my monster if it meant protecting others.
I am proud of every woman for coming forward with your own personal stories or to simply raise your hand and say to me too.
This post was originally published on Facebook in October of 2018. The #metoo movement had just begun a year prior. An activist named Tarana Burke started this phrase in 2006 but the hashtag became a movement when actress Alyssa Milano used it in a tweet in 2017.
Brett kavanaugh was a Trump nominee for the Supreme Court but stood accused by Christine Blasey Ford, a 51-year-old California professor. She accused Kavanaugh of groping her and trying to take her clothes off when they were both attending suburban Maryland high schools in the early 1980s. She didn’t disclose until 2012 though so many accused her of fabricating accusations to stop Kavanaugh from a seat on the Supreme Court. The trial was a disgusting reminder of the misogynistic world we live in. They say women are too emotional but a simple google search of an unhinged kavanaugh shows guys absolutely lose their shit.
So while this may have been written 5 years ago, it will sadly never be outdated.