It's Time to Start Believing....

Why didn’t she report.

That question has been thrown around like freaking confetti in the past few weeks and I’m done.   I’m absolutely done with it.

It is astounding to me that this question is STILL one we have to ask.   Why didn’t she tell?   Why didn’t anyone know?   Why didn’t she go to the authorities?   That’s really none of our business, but I can tell you one thing for certain, just because a woman doesn’t report, doesn’t mean she’s making it up.

These past weeks have been so incredibly triggering for many women.   Myself included.   This isn’t just a debate of politics for me today.   It’s simply MY commentary on WHY women don’t report, and hopefully a slight view into it for those who think if you don’t go to the police you are lying.

When I was 19, I was at a toga party at my college.   I, like many girls, was dressed a little scantily, was flirty and dancing.   I was drinking.   I was enjoying myself.   Being silly.   Being free.   Enjoying my youth.

When I decided I had to use the restroom, I headed down the hall, only to be followed by a guy I knew.   Someone I’d had a relationship with previously.   Someone I thought I could trust.  

When he followed me into the bathroom I didn’t think much of it, and laughed it off.   I told him to get out.  

When he locked the door, I still didn’t think I was in danger.   I asked him to leave, and when he didn’t I tried to.

When he blocked me from the door I got a little nervous, and when he put his hands on me I got scared.  

I’m not going into details of what happened.   That isn’t the story here.   What IS the story is that when I got out of there, I didn’t say a WORD.   To ANYONE.  

I fixed myself up.   I washed my face.   And I went back to the party.   And after the party I went back to my life trying as hard as I could to forget.

It happened people.   And it happened to me.   And when I think about it to this day I get a little upset at myself.   Yep….you heard that right.   I get upset at MYSELF.   The adult who has been through therapy and dealt with it is able to see that it wasn’t my fault.   That I didn’t ask to be treated that way.   But my initial response is STILL….why did I LET THAT HAPPEN?

Why don’t women report?   Because many times we are ashamed.  Because we are taught to smile and take it.   Because we were taught, and still are teaching our girls that we need to be careful of how we dress and act around boys because they can’t control themselves.

I remember thinking it’s best just to make it go away.  It’s best to forget.   To move on.

I remember being ashamed that I’d dressed scantily and danced and drank and flirted.

I remember thinking maybe I put out a vibe that I was willing.

I remember thinking that since we’d “hooked up” before that maybe I was obligated to do it again?

I remember thinking he probably didn’t mean it like it seemed.  Maybe I’d misinterpreted what happened.

I remember feeling like a piece of meat.

I remember feeling so dirty and ashamed.

I remember feeling like I’d asked for it.

I remember being scared.

I didn’t scream.   I didn’t yell.  

I went back to the party, and pretended it didn’t happen.

I am 48 years old, and I am telling the story of something that happened to me almost 30 years ago.   Something I never forgot.   Something that as an adult I was finally able to say I didn’t ask for.

It happened.   

It happened to me.

And I never told a soul.