**Before reading this, take a look at this. This was the first time I shared my story. Having just re-read it for the first time in a few years, I wouldn't change a thing. I'm not going to rehash the details again.**
Let me begin by saying that I'm in an immense period of personal growth. I told my husband that I feel like I've finished the sculpture of my psyche and am now just sanding down the rough edges. My therapy appointments revolve around graduate school, and money stress while I'm in the final three semesters of my program. I discuss my anxiety over raising a child, and my guilt over not having a lot of time for my son right now. We talk about how I can better communicate with my spouse, because parenting is really hard, and marriage is hard, and careers are hard...and all of those things mixed up together can be a powder keg. At least that's what we were talking about, until this hit the news. The last part of my most recent therapy session rehashed the superficial details of my sexual assault, and how triggering this particular story was for me.
Since this has hit the news, I've seen so much victim blaming, and people taking the innocent until proven guilty stance. Why didn't she come forward 35 years ago? Why is she just now talking about this, now that he's nominated for the Supreme Court? Well, lemme tell you...I'm going to break this down from my perspective, and why I did not speak out until adulthood, why I have never named my assailant outright, and why I would speak out if he ended up in the political arena.
First, as mentioned in my prior blog, it was advised by my guidance counselor, that I just try to heal on my own. She advised that I shouldn't tell anyone, because I would be dragged through the court of public opinion. Why was I drinking? Why was I even there? What was I wearing? What was my prior sexual history? As a 17 year-old, that seemed an insurmountable obstacle. As a 38 year-old, I would hold my head up and fight through it. There's a big difference between the confidence that comes with adulthood, and the insecurities of a teenager. Honestly, now I would be able to survive it, and at 17, I'm not sure I would have.
Second, there's always going to be that part of me that blames myself. I was dressed seductively. I was drinking (it was the first time I had ever been drunk, go big or go home, I guess). I was not a virgin. Up to that point, I had engaged in consensual sex with a boyfriend. I was not the irrational virginal image of purity that is expected of young women. If only I hadn't been so bold....so independent.....the only girl disinterested in my assailant, which ultimately made me the perfect target. I was the perfect mark, with just enough of a history to have my story believably re-written by someone else into a slutty party girl. I spoke with him only once after the event, via telephone, and he asked, "So that was consensual, right?" What a weird question. "Yeah. Yeah." I brushed it off, afraid of revealing that I was not in control of my actions that night. Afraid of judgment, and gossip, and seeming crazy. All of the things that are important to a teenager, fixated on their social status. We both knew the real answer to that question. That question, and my response, have haunted me for over 20 years.
Third, I really didn't want to tell my parents! I was doing all of the things that a teenager isn't supposed to be doing. Taking the city by storm with a couple of girlfriends, accepting the invitation to a party at a boy's house when his parents were out of town, and drinking!! In my 17 year-old brain, there would be consequences for my actions, even if the outcome of that night had been a consequence in and of itself. What kid is going to tell their mom, "So I went to this party, when you thought I was just at a sleepover, got blackout...unconscious...shit myself drunk, and a boy had sex with me while I was passed out." Seriously. Chew on that for a while.
Now, why would I raise Hell if this guy were to pop into the mainstream somewhere? He does not deserve control over other women, or laws that regulate women's choices. Period. This is not a party-affiliation thing. I would have done exactly what Dr. Ford did. I would attempt to remain anonymous, lawyer up, and pray that I could stay below the radar for as long as possible before the firestorm. Her story is especially triggering, because the age and surrounding circumstances were so similar to my own.
My initial attempt at exerting some control over my past was inviting my younger sister to parties at my house, where we were drinking. I wanted her to know what it felt like to be drunk in a space where she was watched over, so that she could understand her limits and avoid being taken advantage of. It was my naive way of feeling like I couldn't save myself, so I would save her. Age and perspective has allowed me to use my past as footholds, while I learned to work in a profession where I could truly help people. I can walk beside those who are hurting, or healing, or at any of the stages in between. I control my future, my past is only the road that was traveled.
My way of exerting control in the present time, is to candidly share the single most painful, damaging, life-changing, experience of my life. Maybe someone will read this, and have a better understanding of why women don't come forward. Maybe someone who was recently victimized will feel empowered to take control. Maybe someone who has been hiding their story all of these years feels less alone. I want to normalize this conversation, because that is ownership. I was raped. I survived. I came out on top. People who have lived through the emotional forest fire of sexual assault are survivors, not victims. I am in control of my narrative. Period.
