Did I want to be sexually assaulted?
Alas, a question I presume almost every survivor of sexual harassment, assault and rape shall find themselves asking. Before we start; I must make you aware that you’re not alone in wondering this, as I find myself asking the exact same thing. Some days more than others, some nights more than others, too. And you can pick apart the question as much as you like but how ever many times you ask, the answer will always remain to be the same.
My dear survivor, I need you to remember that your answer is no - that is definite. Whether you verbally said it or not, that simply does not matter here. As a sexual offence towards you does not devalue if you chose not to fight. Many of us tend to freeze when a moment such as this takes place. I did. Fondling, uninvited sexual touching, a hand being held somewhere for a little too long. This misbehaviour is unsettling and confusing, it leaves our minds questioning. Then we sit to dissect those very moments, picking at our already diminished nails, fixating on what you should’ve done. I tend to project each scene onto my bedroom ceiling as I count every single missed opportunity I had to flee. Only to turn on my side before the room flicks back to darkness. Now filled with hiding spots. Perhaps my smile was too wide or I spoke too much. Could it’ve been the way I dressed? Oh god, did I want it to happen?
“Pause and breathe - listen to yourself.”
You didn’t want this to happen, that I can assure you. And in all honesty; this horrific memory of that you’re recalling sounds like shit. Like actual proper shit - and I imagine our lives would be far better off if it were to never had happened at all; so with that in mind, why would you ever wish for that to happen? That’s the thing, you didn’t.
By mistake, we’re taught that sexual offences are limited to only shadowed alleyways and nowhere else, committed by someone you don’t know. This assumption is growing increasingly dangerous and yet we continue to predict that this is the way something will ever happen to you. God forbid if it does - because people may express how you really should’ve known better, questioning what you did to provoke it. And come to think of it - it truly bewilders me how many people still question the following: So what were you wearing? Did you have anything to drink? Did you lead them on?
This initial instinct to attack the victim is unnatural and rarely takes place when discussing any other form of offence. These perpetrators use threats, they manipulate and intimidate. They’re wickedly smart and can make you do anything non-consensual of which they desire.
I'm continuing to pick at my already diminished nails. All this questioning heightens the fear I hold. Tearing everything I believed was right down. Using my teeth to clip away at every end of my fingertips. The warmth inside my chest thumps and that’s the only thing I can feel. Darting up thoughts into my own head of how could I have been so stupidly mindless.
Now when these questions are asked I tend to excuse myself from the situation. Exiting the room with bitter mutterings under my breath of how fortunate they must be to not understand. Despite my tired bitterness, I’ve learnt that you do take away a lot from experiences like these - I’m 24 and I’m still scared of the dark. So much so, that my younger brother gifted me a plug-in night light and I actually cried. Thankfully, it’s more than a free night light; I’ve also benefitted by understanding exactly what you mean. I mean sure, beforehand I would’ve tried to be as empathic as I could - but I would’ve never understood, really. Now I get it, I want to run to the end of my driveway and fill the sky with my voice. Every one of us carries different circumstances but that’s beside the point. I know how you feel. I get it! I get you! And just so you know, how we feel is extremely valid; self-doubts and all!
I sit and wonder how many of you are out there who feel what I feel. My heart grows heavy because I know that there will be so, so many of you who do. All under different roofs dotted across the globe. Together, we’ve reached the very end of my first ever article - I’d like to quickly thank Liam who believed my story, three years ago with no questions asked. He persistently pushed into finding who it was who had hurt me, even when being on the opposite side of the world. Believing and understanding, I’d say that they’re some of the most comforting feelings you’re able to give, so I encourage you to do both the next time someone confides in you.
