I generally avoid political discussions like the plague. You already know this if you read my last post, Mercy Triumphs Over Judgement. I see all angles and can empathize with all parties in most scenarios. Life is filled with grey area and nuance and most people form opinions and decisions without having the full picture, and I don't like to make a decision until I've considered all of the angles.
So today, I'm not going to make any comments on Kavanaugh, Blasey-Ford or the others, because I haven't done enough investigation myself. I'm just going to address the question that many people are raising about why these women waited so long or didn't report it earlier.
I think it all comes down to this: We, and I say we because I am one of them, didn't know we could.
The first time it happened to me, I didn't know it wasn't my fault until the boy who did it to me was kicked out of school for doing exactly what he did to me to two other girls who didn't stay silent. They had the confidence that I lacked. To this day, no one other than my husband knows about this. I've held it close for nearly 20 years because some part of me still feels like I didn't do enough to stop it.
Many of us have been living in shame until the #MeToo movement helped us realize that what happened to us wasn't ok and wasn't our fault. We were warned that "boys will be boys" and when we put ourselves into a position that allowed a boy to be a boy, we felt responsible.
I shouldn't have been alone with him.
I shouldn't have drank so much.
I should have done more to stop him.
I should have left.
I should have paid more attention.
After all, after every sexual assault that ends up in the media, we hear about how drunk she was, what she was wearing, what party she was at, etc.
Our voices become meaningless because no one can see past our anatomy, as if somehow by having breasts and a vagina, we are constantly offering an unspoken invitation that overrides the very words coming out of our mouths.
So we keep the secret close, because letting it out would end up with fingers pointed back at us. We live in shame, wondering what we could have done differently.
All it took was women coming out from the shadows, exposing their shame and hurt so that others didn't have to hold it all in anymore. Because that's the thing about women, when we form bonds over hurt and are determined to make a change, we're unstoppable. We won't fight against each other, instead we'll pool our anger, frustration and passion together to try and make change happen.
If the number of women speaking up now somehow causes you to doubt the validity of the pain they have been holding on to for years, I'd ask you to consider this.
How do you suggest we substantiate something that happened to us years ago? How do you want us to prove it to you?
I believe in due process and innocent until proven guilty, but what if we're not looking for any legal ramifications. What if we just want to release some of the shame and guilt we've been holding onto for years. What if we just want someone to know that we're not the only ones with a secret. I think years of pain are more than payment enough for a moment of truth.
We're not ruining careers, we're sharing our truth, and you can do with it what you choose. Rather than questioning women coming forward, I think it is time to start questioning why so many women have stories like this and how we can change the story for future generations.
Unfortunately, the only way I see this turning around is for men who have changed their ways but used to take advantage of women or force themselves would come clean. Because if we've learned anything from the past few years, it is than a man's truth is always more valuable than a woman's.
