What was she wearing? Was she drunk? Was she flirting? Was she alone?
The list of questions goes on and on. And it sucks. Instead of putting the blame on the perpetrator, where it belongs, the victims are blamed. That's a problem. However, (this is where people may want to strike me down with lightning) it sucks, women, you have to be confident and be smart!
Yes, the blame lies with the perpetrator, there is no question about that. But we don't live in a perfect society. Unfortunately, rape is a problem. Sexual assault is a problem. Rape culture is a thing, and it's not going to change over night. So we need to be smart. I need to be smart and confident. You need to be smart and confident.
You have to watch your back. You have to be aware of who is around you. You have to be careful of how much you drink around strangers, because you have to be on your guard. No, it's not the woman's responsibility to prevent being raped. But in our imperfect world, women have to do everything in their power to keep themselves safe.
Confidence is another key here. Confidence to stand up, confidence to speak up and speak out, confidence to fight back, confidence to look people in the eye, and confidence to move on.
I'm going to share a very personal story that very, very few people know about. I have only told a handful of people. I didn't realize it but I hadn't even told my husband about it until very recently. It's not that I'm ashamed of it or anything. I've just moved past it and don't dwell on it. But I feel like being open and I think this is a big enough problem that the more voices that speak up, the better.
I'll give a little back story. The summer before my senior year of high school (so ten years ago... Wow, that's forever!) I worked at a dude ranch in Wyoming. Awesome, right!? It was amazing. I was 17 and it was the first time I'd been away from my parents for more than about a week. It was a great experience and I immediately loved it.
I had a good boss, good co-workers (especially the cook, Phil. He still holds a special place in my heart.), a fun job, and lots of fun experiences. I made friends with some of the people in town, and one of the boys from town even became my boyfriend for part of the summer.
My day off every week happened to be the day that they had mutual in town (I'm LDS. Mutual is for the youth in the ward). So when I could, I would go to mutual and hang out with people my age who lived there. On one such night, we drove the hour or so to the nearest city (ish). The place I was working had a population of under 1,000, and the nearest bigger place was about an hour away.
Anyway, my boyfriend wasn't able to go, but his mom, sisters, his sister's boyfriend, and a few other people all went. I had fun talking to and getting to know the other people. I don't even remember what movie we saw. But it was a fun night.
The ride back was where things took a turn for the worse. I was sitting in the back seat next to my boyfriend's sister's boyfriend. She was sitting on the other side of him. I was kind of drifting in and out of sleep, but could never really fall asleep because I couldn't get comfortable.
His girlfriend was conked out on the other side of the car and I was lost in my thoughts until I felt his hand on my thigh. I was so startled, I didn't know what to do. I looked over slightly at him and he looked like he was sleeping, so I left his hand alone, dismissing it as an unknown error.
But then his hand slid over and up and soon he was rubbing my privates. I was stunned. Shocked. What was I supposed to do? I couldn't make a scene. My boyfriend's mom was driving and his sister was on the other side of the car. What the heck was going on? I pretended to be asleep because I was unsure of what to do. I'd never been prepared for this kind of situation. What was I supposed to do!?
Finally I decided to pretend to wake up. I startled a little bit and quickly moved his hand away. I pulled away from him as much as I could. But when you're stuck in a car sitting next to a person who revolts you, there's not much you can do to get away.
I spent the rest of the drive deep in thought and feeling violated. It wasn't a huge deal. He had "just" touched me inappropriately. But why did I feel so violated? My mind raced as I tried to make sense of what had just happened and what I was supposed to do next.
My boyfriend's mom was supposed to drive me back to the ranch that night so I could get to work in the morning, but it was so late that she said she would wake up early to take me. She brought me a pillow and blankets to sleep on her couch. My boyfriend was just in the next room. How I wanted to wake him up and tell him what happened! But would he believe me? It was his sister's boyfriend!
Thoughts continued to race through my head and sleep eluded me that night.
I was very distant in the morning as I folded up the blankets I'd used and stacked them neatly on the edge of the couch. I hardly spoke on the ride back to the ranch. After quickly stopping by my cabin to change and drop of my stuff I headed to the dining cabin to get ready for breakfast. My co-worker noticed my distant and down mood, quite a change from my usual chatty and bubbly self, and asked me multiple times what was wrong.
Finally I told her what happened. She was astounded and immediately told me I needed to tell someone. I'm so, so glad I talked to her! She helped me realize that I shouldn't keep quiet and that I needed to tell people. Especially my boyfriend's mom!
After explaining what happened one more time to another co-worker/friend, I decided that I needed to go back to town that night to talk to my boyfriend's mother. So I did. I still remember sitting across the table from her and recounting my experience again. She was so sweet. So wonderful. She said she would tell my boyfriend what happened, because she wanted to be there to calm him down before he did something rash.
Anyway. After talking with his mom, I came to the conclusion that I wasn't going to do anything further. I just needed to put it in the past. Getting the police involved wasn't going to work because it would be a he said-she said thing, and I was a girl just working there for the summer, so who were they more likely to believe? Not me, for sure.
So I decided to just call it over and put it behind me.
Until a few days later when I was taking a nap in my cabin. I heard a knock on the cabin door and I was very stunned to see the boy that had touched me so inappropriately standing there. I don't even think I spoke. He just asked if we could talk. I was so shocked. I had no idea what to do.
"Umm... Sure. Just a second." I grabbed my phone and put on some shoes. I took him to a private but close place to talk and sat far away from him.
He continued to deny everything. He asked if there was any way we could fix this. His relationship with his girlfriend's parents was rough now, and he couldn't see his girlfriend much anymore. He basically said it was all a misunderstanding and basically asked me to recant what I'd said.
So many emotions were running inside of me, fighting each other to be the first one out. I said multiple times, "I'm sorry, but no. I know what happened."
After a couple more of his pleas to get me to recant, I asked him to leave.
Once I got into my cabin anger was the winner and erupted outside of me. I threw my phone at the couch and it took everything to not let out a string of cuss words.
The other girls in my cabin wanted to know what happened and I filled them in on everything. I had to allow myself to feel all of the different emotions inside of me. Having a support group helped a lot. The summer finished well and I put what happened behind me.
And this is where I jump back to what I started with. Women, you need to be confident. You need to stand up for yourselves. You need to speak out. Don't hold stuff inside.
I wish I could go back and tell my 17-year-old self to have more confidence and immediately push his hand away when it first touched my leg. But at least I told someone. It was minor, yes, but I still told someone. That little act saved me so much unnecessary hardship. No, I couldn't do anything. But I stood up for myself.
When the boy asked me to recant what I said, saying it was a "misunderstanding," I didn't cave. I knew what happened.
Too often this is the problem when sexual assault and rape. Women don't stand up. It's hard, I'm sure. But it's worth it. You are worth it. You will probably be torn down along the way, but as long as you stand up for yourself, you come out on top. As long as you can move past it a better person, you win.
Yes, we have problems with a rape culture. Perpetrators often don't get what they deserve. The victims suffer far more than the perpetrators usually do. How can we change that? It's going to take time. But what we can change is ourselves.
We can be smart. Confident. Travel in pairs, don't get so drunk that you are unaware of what's going on around you, have your phone at the ready if you have to be by yourself--better yet, be talking on the phone to someone if you have to be by yourself! It sucks that it is on the woman to not get raped or assaulted. It really does. But that's the society we live in, unfortunately. I wish that would change and I hope and pray that it does.
But until it does, we have to be safe. You have to be confident. You have to be safe. You have to be smart. You have to speak up and speak out. Stand up for yourself and put up the fight of your life if you ever find yourself in a bad situation. You'll never regret the fight.
