I was sexually assaulted in my early twenties. I never reported it. In fact, there are few people in my life who know about it at all. I never told my parents, my brothers or anyone else in my family. It wasn’t a conscious decision to keep it a secret, it simply seemed like the path of least resistance at the time. Many years removed, I can identify a myriad of reasons I kept silent about it.
I think I owe myself an apology. And one day, I owe my sons an explanation.
I don’t want to give the impression that this period of my past occupies my thoughts very often other than the occasional bad dream. I have a wonderful life for which I am extremely grateful. However, in the wake of the current social discourse, I find my mind wandering back to that ugly place from time to time. From reading about Brock Turner, a Presidential nominee, a former President, or a beloved comedian from my childhood, I cannot seem to avoid encountering instances of victim blaming and shaming. I’ve listened to dozens of news segments where men and women alike repeat statements such as ‘any credible woman would have come forward and said something at the time.’
Well, I didn’t. Here’s my story.
My parents were at the beginning of a very long and contentious divorce. The tension had reached an absolute boiling point in my family where everyone was ducking for cover. And as they were understandably preoccupied in their own hurricane, the collapse of my own first serious relationship was a footnote in the storm. It’s true; I didn’t yet have the life experience to fully understand the depth of wrongness in what I was experiencing. No one ever explained that sexual assault often doesn’t come in the form of a masked assailant or the child-abusing boogeymen we are all taught to fear from an early age.
My boogeyman, like so many other women, was someone I had loved. What began gradually as uncomfortable encounters over time advanced to my expressly voiced ‘NO’ going unheeded. And because I had given consent in the past, it didn’t really resonate with me that the unwanted and uninvited forceful attempts to ‘rekindle the flame’ of a dying relationship were more than the shame and embarrassment I felt. It was unlawful.
The consummate people pleaser in me was consumed by enormous guilt for ‘devastating him’ (as he put it) and continued to make excuses for the violations I experienced. I reasoned with myself that others endure far worse for me to cause a big commotion, so I kept it quiet. But for all my attempts to rationalize these events, there came a moment I was able to admit that, in spite of the responsibility I thought I may in have in the situation, I was being exploited and I couldn’t let it continue any longer. And to my immense relief, we finally parted ways for good.
All these years later, I don’t lay awake regretting not involving the authorities. But I do wish I had told someone and asked for help; maybe then I could have taken back control of my mind and body much sooner. In the years since, I have found that I am not alone. In fact, 30% of sexual assaults occur with a current or former partner, and 2 out of 3 of those assaults will go unrecorded by anyone.* It happens everyday, and often no one will ever know except the two involved.
Now a mother of two young sons, I take responsibility for raising them as activists in the ‘Culture of Consent.’ The day will come when I sit each of them down and share what I have learned from my experience…
Past Permission is NOT Present Permission
It is as simple as it sounds. Before you place your hands on another person’s body, you must – without fail – respectfully ask permission and wait for an overt green light every time.
Reluctant Consent is NOT Genuine Consent
No one should be pressured, embarrassed, or worn down to do something they find uncomfortable. While not criminal perhaps, engaging in this type of selfish behavior is destructive for both parties and only perpetuates sexual negativity and exploitation. Respect yourself enough to know that others deserve the same respect.
Be a Warrior for Consent
The road to sexual assault begins long before the incident occurs. Our boys and men must become advocates for change. ‘Locker room’ talk and the endless consumption of sexually explicit programming down to our fast food commercials, must be continually addressed with our boys. In preparation of writing this piece, I asked my husband and brother about their coming of age experiences; they both detailed relentless pressure and taunting about their sexual encounters or lack thereof.
It begins with our sons and having those uncomfortable conversations.
The conversations about why sexist jokes matter, why saying something dirty about the girl walking down the hall matters, why passing private pictures of an ex-girlfriend matters, and why their self-worth isn’t determined by their masculinity. Young girls will always be cautioned on how not to become victims, but as a mother of sons, it’s my job to make sure my sons know how not to victimize. I’m up for it, because I love them and they deserve the strength I have now because of the lessons I learned back then.
Need someone to talk to or know someone who does?
Get involved, be part of the solution!
TWCA of Nashville and Middle Tennessee
I love this. I think it’s so important to share our stories and lift the shame and self-blame that stops so many people from reporting sexual assault! Thank you for sharing and thank you for inspiring me to raise my little son in the culture of consent!
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