(no subject)
I've been thinking about this topic for a while, and a post by misscam prompted me to finally make a post. I think it's also appropriate for
celebrate_women, given that sexual assault is something that many, many women will experience in their lifetimes.
This post isn't graphic at all, but I'm putting it all behind a cut.
Whenever I hear rape referred to as a crime "worse than death," it makes me angry. I understand that people who say that are often trying to convey the seriousness and gravity of sexual assault. What bothers me is that for a very long time, many believed that it was better to die than to be raped--and that a woman who gave up her life rather than her "chastity" was to be commended. See, for example, St. Maria Goretti, who by some twisted logic, is the chosen patron saint of many societies intended to discourage high school and college students from consensual sexual activity.
When you see a rape depicted in the popular media, you often never find out what happens to the victim. Even on my beloved Law & Order: SVU, the rape victims are often also dead, or quickly vanish from the scene. It's the rape itself that's important to the plot. If a major character in a tv show or movie is raped (which is rare), she's also often quickly offed. I remember how victorious, in a way, I found the response of Edward Norton's character to his sexual assault in American History X: not shame, but anger.
Rape victims often vanish from the scene, I think, because many media viewers are just too uncomfortable with the aftermath of a rape. Unfortunately, this parallels the real-life response many people have to rape. I remember reading comments on a Washington Post news story about Jennifer Baumgartner's "I was raped" t-shirt. A common response was that people "shouldn't have to see that," shouldn't have to know that about the shirt's wearer, because it would make them so uncomfortable. It was the survivor's responsibility to keep others comfortable, and to keep her experience quiet.
I also think, however, that there's sort of an assumption that we don't need to see the aftermath of a rape, because everyone knows that rape survivors are haunted by their experiences for the rest of their lives, and are never the same again. And this is, in part, where the idea of the "fate worse than death" experience comes from, I think--the idea that rape destroys you, that it ruins your life.
My life is not ruined.
What comes after rape is sorrow and pain and anger. What comes after rape is happiness and laughter and love. What comes after rape is the rest of your life. Rape survivors--of which I am one--are more than what was done to us. Yes, my rape is always with me. Yes, it is the worst thing that has ever happened to me. Yes, I think about it every day.
But it pales in comparison to the best things that ever happened to me. My life after my rape is no dimmer, no less valuable or beautiful, than my life before. It is a part of me, but it does not define me. And it did not define me when I was at my most shattered. My story didn't fade to black on that day. It went on, and it's beautiful.
I've turned on anon commenting and am screening comments, fyi.
celebrate_women, given that sexual assault is something that many, many women will experience in their lifetimes.
This post isn't graphic at all, but I'm putting it all behind a cut.
Whenever I hear rape referred to as a crime "worse than death," it makes me angry. I understand that people who say that are often trying to convey the seriousness and gravity of sexual assault. What bothers me is that for a very long time, many believed that it was better to die than to be raped--and that a woman who gave up her life rather than her "chastity" was to be commended. See, for example, St. Maria Goretti, who by some twisted logic, is the chosen patron saint of many societies intended to discourage high school and college students from consensual sexual activity.
When you see a rape depicted in the popular media, you often never find out what happens to the victim. Even on my beloved Law & Order: SVU, the rape victims are often also dead, or quickly vanish from the scene. It's the rape itself that's important to the plot. If a major character in a tv show or movie is raped (which is rare), she's also often quickly offed. I remember how victorious, in a way, I found the response of Edward Norton's character to his sexual assault in American History X: not shame, but anger.
Rape victims often vanish from the scene, I think, because many media viewers are just too uncomfortable with the aftermath of a rape. Unfortunately, this parallels the real-life response many people have to rape. I remember reading comments on a Washington Post news story about Jennifer Baumgartner's "I was raped" t-shirt. A common response was that people "shouldn't have to see that," shouldn't have to know that about the shirt's wearer, because it would make them so uncomfortable. It was the survivor's responsibility to keep others comfortable, and to keep her experience quiet.
I also think, however, that there's sort of an assumption that we don't need to see the aftermath of a rape, because everyone knows that rape survivors are haunted by their experiences for the rest of their lives, and are never the same again. And this is, in part, where the idea of the "fate worse than death" experience comes from, I think--the idea that rape destroys you, that it ruins your life.
My life is not ruined.
What comes after rape is sorrow and pain and anger. What comes after rape is happiness and laughter and love. What comes after rape is the rest of your life. Rape survivors--of which I am one--are more than what was done to us. Yes, my rape is always with me. Yes, it is the worst thing that has ever happened to me. Yes, I think about it every day.
But it pales in comparison to the best things that ever happened to me. My life after my rape is no dimmer, no less valuable or beautiful, than my life before. It is a part of me, but it does not define me. And it did not define me when I was at my most shattered. My story didn't fade to black on that day. It went on, and it's beautiful.
I've turned on anon commenting and am screening comments, fyi.