joeylittle
Sponsor
I've been thinking about this for awhile, and just would like to put it out there.
"It's my fault", "I was responsible", "If I hadn't (been there, done that)" - these are the kinds of thoughts that people have, after being raped. I don't think everyone - but many, enough to maybe say the majority of people who have been raped. I know I did.
"It's not your fault", "it wasn't your fault", "You are not responsible" - these are the most common responses. And they are true, but also, not.
There are many moments, many facets, to the thing we call "rape". I think this also might be why so many people end up not being sure if they were raped, or sexually assaulted, or whatever legally applies to a situation where parts of your body are taken from you, stolen and used by someone else, returned empty, or dirty, in pain. Troubled.
It starts with how we came to be where we were - and continues with what happened next, and next, and next, and next. Somewhere after all those 'next's, there is the moment when the thing itself happens. The thing where we know we were not in collusion, it was not up to us, and we wonder, 'was that rape'?
Sometimes, it looks very clear. I'll use a story of mine as an example, because it might be as clear-cut as they come.
I went down to put in a load of laundry. I lived in an apartment complex where the laundry room was in the basement of one of the adjoining buildings. To get there, I had to go out the back gate, about 20 feet down a semi-lit alley, through another gate that would lock behind me, another 15 feet or so down a narrow passage between the buildings to a short staircase down to the laundry room door, which was also kept locked. I had lived in this place for 2 years, had made this trip many times. So, it was 3AM, I couldn't sleep, and I decided to do laundry.
As soon as I was walking into the laundry room I was shoved from behind and fell forward into a table. Then, there was a man behind me, folded over me. He stuck his gun out in front of my face so I could see it, then pulled it back and pressed it into my neck. Then, he raped me. When he was done, he left. I waited there a long while, then I went back upstairs.
That's it, as far as the event goes. Straightforward, apparently clear - but for me, not really straightforward at all.
I know these things:
I have questions about these:
I did know better. And I need to come to a place where I can accept that I made a bad decision, and forgive myself for it. This part belongs to me, and I don't think the way through it is to decide that it belongs to him instead. I wish we lived in a world where anyone could go walking anywhere at any time of night, but the fact is, we do not. I made a bad decision. I did not deserve to be hurt as a result - but I was. Mine.
I don't know if I need to hold myself responsible for not seeing the van. Sometimes I think I do, sometimes I understand that it is hard to watch for detail in a super-familiar environment. Being told, "you couldn't possibly be responsible for that van being there" - well no, of course not. I know I didn't make the van appear - but I didn't see it. There are reasons for that, but the reasons don't wipe away the feeling that 'if only I had seen it, I could have turned around'. So, maybe mine. Probably, more just a mistake that it is easy to make, and so I could possibly forgive myself for it sooner, or easier that the facet of being in the alley at 3AM.
I do know better than to tune out my immediate surroundings. But there are reasons I might not have heard him, and they might not be up to me. I don't even know if he was wearing shoes. And what would have happened? Well, maybe he just would have turned and run away, if I turned and screamed. I'll never know. He chose to follow me - so in the end, maybe not so much my responsibility here. Probably not so much.
I co-operated because I had been raped before. But I am deeply ashamed, regardless, and I need to learn to forgive myself for that. Would it have changed the outcome? I don't know.
It is so much more than just, 'it wasn't your fault'.
And it's much more than, 'I blame myself'.
The best for last: I never did say 'no'. So, even the thing that can generally be the real test - 'did you say no?' - well, I didn't say no. I didn't say stop. I didn't say 'go', either. I was physically assaulted before it happened. I was threatened with a gun. Those things probably make up for my lack of 'no' in a court of law, but still...I wonder, often, why I said nothing like 'no', at all.
I'm glad that the public language around rape has become so staunch, so clear. Rape is never the victim's fault. You don't get raped, you are raped. No means no. No-one ever 'asks for it'. These statements are good, and important. People need to be educated - I cannot believe it, but it's true - people need to be educated on what rape is, what assault is, and why there is no reason for it, ever.
But the way we talk about it to ourselves, and the way we talk to other survivors about it, how we listen to each other, and what we offer up - these events cannot easily be distilled down to one moment in time, and among the many facets of rape, there will be bits and pieces where we might be justified in claiming responsibility for actions we took that make up part of the picture. I think that is a real thing, and claiming the parts that are ours doesn't mean we are claiming responsibility for the act of rape itself.
The only way to know, sometimes, is to ask us why we think we were responsible - responsible for being there, getting in the car, not noticing, noticing and ignoring, trusting, arguing, leaving too soon, leaving too late, and a million other reasons why we can rationalize that we were at fault.
Rape is not a single moment. I hope that soon it will be more acceptable to talk openly about how many facets there are, without undermining the necessary public messaging that keeps it clear and simple. But I think we can start with knowing, for ourselves and for other survivors and supporters, that it isn't a simple thing at all.
"It's my fault", "I was responsible", "If I hadn't (been there, done that)" - these are the kinds of thoughts that people have, after being raped. I don't think everyone - but many, enough to maybe say the majority of people who have been raped. I know I did.
"It's not your fault", "it wasn't your fault", "You are not responsible" - these are the most common responses. And they are true, but also, not.
There are many moments, many facets, to the thing we call "rape". I think this also might be why so many people end up not being sure if they were raped, or sexually assaulted, or whatever legally applies to a situation where parts of your body are taken from you, stolen and used by someone else, returned empty, or dirty, in pain. Troubled.
It starts with how we came to be where we were - and continues with what happened next, and next, and next, and next. Somewhere after all those 'next's, there is the moment when the thing itself happens. The thing where we know we were not in collusion, it was not up to us, and we wonder, 'was that rape'?
Sometimes, it looks very clear. I'll use a story of mine as an example, because it might be as clear-cut as they come.
I went down to put in a load of laundry. I lived in an apartment complex where the laundry room was in the basement of one of the adjoining buildings. To get there, I had to go out the back gate, about 20 feet down a semi-lit alley, through another gate that would lock behind me, another 15 feet or so down a narrow passage between the buildings to a short staircase down to the laundry room door, which was also kept locked. I had lived in this place for 2 years, had made this trip many times. So, it was 3AM, I couldn't sleep, and I decided to do laundry.
As soon as I was walking into the laundry room I was shoved from behind and fell forward into a table. Then, there was a man behind me, folded over me. He stuck his gun out in front of my face so I could see it, then pulled it back and pressed it into my neck. Then, he raped me. When he was done, he left. I waited there a long while, then I went back upstairs.
That's it, as far as the event goes. Straightforward, apparently clear - but for me, not really straightforward at all.
I know these things:
- I am not responsible for a predator being in the alley that night.
- I am not responsible for being shoved, nor for being groped, bruised, penetrated,
- I am not responsible for being left in shock - I don't expect myself to have been able to get up and chase after him.
I have questions about these:
- I lived in a slightly rough neighborhood. Did I not know better than to do laundry at 3AM?
- Afterwards, I remembered seeing the van in the alley. Why didn't I pay attention to that?
- I didn't hear someone follow me down that 15 foot passage. How?
- I didn't fight. OK, the gun. But maybe worse than didn't fight - I made it easy for him. I co-operated fully. Why?
I did know better. And I need to come to a place where I can accept that I made a bad decision, and forgive myself for it. This part belongs to me, and I don't think the way through it is to decide that it belongs to him instead. I wish we lived in a world where anyone could go walking anywhere at any time of night, but the fact is, we do not. I made a bad decision. I did not deserve to be hurt as a result - but I was. Mine.
I don't know if I need to hold myself responsible for not seeing the van. Sometimes I think I do, sometimes I understand that it is hard to watch for detail in a super-familiar environment. Being told, "you couldn't possibly be responsible for that van being there" - well no, of course not. I know I didn't make the van appear - but I didn't see it. There are reasons for that, but the reasons don't wipe away the feeling that 'if only I had seen it, I could have turned around'. So, maybe mine. Probably, more just a mistake that it is easy to make, and so I could possibly forgive myself for it sooner, or easier that the facet of being in the alley at 3AM.
I do know better than to tune out my immediate surroundings. But there are reasons I might not have heard him, and they might not be up to me. I don't even know if he was wearing shoes. And what would have happened? Well, maybe he just would have turned and run away, if I turned and screamed. I'll never know. He chose to follow me - so in the end, maybe not so much my responsibility here. Probably not so much.
I co-operated because I had been raped before. But I am deeply ashamed, regardless, and I need to learn to forgive myself for that. Would it have changed the outcome? I don't know.
It is so much more than just, 'it wasn't your fault'.
And it's much more than, 'I blame myself'.
The best for last: I never did say 'no'. So, even the thing that can generally be the real test - 'did you say no?' - well, I didn't say no. I didn't say stop. I didn't say 'go', either. I was physically assaulted before it happened. I was threatened with a gun. Those things probably make up for my lack of 'no' in a court of law, but still...I wonder, often, why I said nothing like 'no', at all.
I'm glad that the public language around rape has become so staunch, so clear. Rape is never the victim's fault. You don't get raped, you are raped. No means no. No-one ever 'asks for it'. These statements are good, and important. People need to be educated - I cannot believe it, but it's true - people need to be educated on what rape is, what assault is, and why there is no reason for it, ever.
But the way we talk about it to ourselves, and the way we talk to other survivors about it, how we listen to each other, and what we offer up - these events cannot easily be distilled down to one moment in time, and among the many facets of rape, there will be bits and pieces where we might be justified in claiming responsibility for actions we took that make up part of the picture. I think that is a real thing, and claiming the parts that are ours doesn't mean we are claiming responsibility for the act of rape itself.
The only way to know, sometimes, is to ask us why we think we were responsible - responsible for being there, getting in the car, not noticing, noticing and ignoring, trusting, arguing, leaving too soon, leaving too late, and a million other reasons why we can rationalize that we were at fault.
Rape is not a single moment. I hope that soon it will be more acceptable to talk openly about how many facets there are, without undermining the necessary public messaging that keeps it clear and simple. But I think we can start with knowing, for ourselves and for other survivors and supporters, that it isn't a simple thing at all.
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