I have written about the Stanford Rape Case over and over, but never posted anything in fear that what I had to say was already said, that what I wrote would be stupid and unnecessary, that what I would write would be perceived the wrong way.
I honestly cannot put all of my thoughts into a nicely formed post, as there is so much anger and frustration, sadness and empathy, so many complex emotions that I cannot express at once. I am disgusted by Turner and his actions, by the judge and his decisions, by Turner’s father, by anyone who refuses to believe that Brock Turner is not a rapist. I am disgusted by the people who had, have, and will continue to defend any of them. I am deeply saddened that such a simple idea, the idea that rape is not acceptable, is not widely understood.
Through “Emily Doe”‘s courage, I have seen many women sharing their experiences being taken advantage of without consent, some ending in rape, some not. I have also seen people attacking those who shared, saying “it didn’t end in rape, so it’s not a big deal.”
That angers me to no end. Just because something did not end in rape, does not mean that it is not scary or traumatizing.
I have not been raped, but I have been pushed onto a bed and laid on top of, kissed and touched whilst I said no. He did not stop when I said to stop, and I had to SHOVE him out of my room and lock the door.
I was traveling, alone and afraid in an unfamiliar city, feeling as if he was around every single corner. In every person I looked at, I’d see his eyes, icy and cold. Every time I smelled smoke, I was consumed in the fear that he’d be right behind me. I had never felt unsafe exploring a new city, but after that, I had never felt so threatened and in danger.
I felt like an object, as if my body did not belong to me, but instead to any man who wanted it. And that feeling continued for half a year. Six months of belonging to other people is a damn long time.
I feel guilty for expressing my feelings, sharing how truly terrified I was, because no, I was not raped. However, that should not and does not belittle my feelings, my terror, his actions. Just because I did not get the worst of things (and my heart goes out to those who have), does not mean I didn’t experience something.
Again, I am terrified to post this. I wasn’t going to post anything UNTIL I saw a post shared on Facebook.
We’ve all seen the stupid sexist lectures on the “dangers of binge drinking and promiscuity.” We’ve also seen the “keep control of yourself” part. What’s different about this specific post is the “don’t dress like sluts” bit, it’s the slut shaming… And this is where I am most confused and angry and upset. I won’t even get into why the entire post is just unbelievably wrong because I’d be writing for hours.
I am confused because the girl who shared this, as well as her friends, have called me a slut time and time again for the way I dress, for different rumors they hear, for absolutely no reason at all.
I immediately thought of this quote in Mean Girls : “You all have got to stop calling each other sluts and whores. It just makes it ok for guys to call you sluts and whores.”
Men telling women that they are sluts or whores or whatever is derogatory and furthers rape culture.
Women telling women that they are sluts or whores or whatever furthers rape culture.
It is EVERYONE’s responsibility to to prevent rape. I’m angry with this world and I don’t want my sister or mother or friends or ANYBODY to live in a world where rape or sexual assault or the power of words are belittled.
I wish I could thank “Emily Doe” for being so brave, for sparking this controversy and for making the world a better place. She has started something big, and her eloquence, perseverance, and story are all things we are going to continue learning from.
I hate you, Brock Turner.