seventeen.

“a boy I just met at a party gave me 3 xanax and then slept with me after I told him I didn’t want to sleep with anyone.”

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sixteen.

“I have a friend who was sexually assaulted by multiple people. Seeing her with PTSD and her paranoia now, is upsetting. It’s hard to just hangout casually with her because she’s always so afraid. It makes my heart hurt. I don’t know why people are shit. Who would do that to a person?”

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the inevitable

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t waiting for this moment to happen. Quite honestly, I’m surprised it took this long. The hateful, relentless victim-blaming comments from a man. I found myself needing to bash him for an utter lack of sympathy and understanding and I felt sorry that he could not possess these things.

I’m also sorry we – boys and girls, women and men alike – have to go through this.

A few days ago I saw a pro-gun post, the message was we don’t blame the bomb when there’s a bombing, we blame the bomber. That isn’t word-for-word, but it’s understood the perpetrator is at fault, not the weapon. It didn’t mention victims, but when there’s an attack on the masses, no one blames the humans who were hurt.* So if we can agree bombers are at fault for bombings why don’t we believe rapists are at fault for raping? Would the defense ask “what were they wearing?” in that case.

Why. Why is it so impossible to believe people are raped? Fuck the he-said-she-said argument. If rape kits were actually tested (which they are not, the backlog is shocking), would we still blame victims? Even when they don’t know the whole story, like that man who felt the need to blame the person behind the August 11 post, would we still blame the people who lost part of themselves?

 

*As I was writing this, I remembered Charlottesville. The woman who was killed, some fingers were pointed at her. James Fields Jr. murdered her, but those who stood behind him blamed the protestors for standing in the streets. This is one thing I can’t wrap my head around and I won’t delve into a tangent on the matter right now.

fourteen.

“When I was just 11 years old my mom had a boyfriend. At first when my sister and I met him we thought he was a great boyfriend for our mom then he had a sudden interest in me and kept touching me inappropriately then raped me repeatedly till I became 15 years old. He went to jail but not for life only till I’m 28 and now I’m 20 years old.”*

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* some spelling has been adjusted for clarity. I do not touch punctuation or re-word any stories.