I am being convicted to talk about rape again. I have no idea why, and I'm sorry if that's upsetting for you. I don't like it either. Talking about uncomfortable topics is good. Trying to make change is good. But for some reason, I hate writing about it, even though I just had a 30 minute discussion about it this morning. I don't want to put off readers, and I certainly don't want my morning to begin this way. Yet here we are. Lest I be swallowed by the proverbial whale, here I go.
I read this article a few years ago on Schrodinger's Rapist, and was intrigued by the premise because it seemed so accurate. (Fair warning - there is some language in the links.) I've made this argument myself many times, in the context of trying to prevent my friends from leaving a bar with a stranger. That person might be the nicest person in the history of the world. But I don't know that. And I'm not gambling with my friend's life. Because they might be a crazed serial killer. Ted Bundy was terribly attractive and "nice", after all.
Some men (and women) were upset by the first article, and I think the second helps to allay those fears. And let me say this - I am so sorry that good men are negatively impacted by their brethren who have chosen to cause harm to others. I hate that my loved ones are seen as someone that a person would need to protect themselves from. But I'd rather cross the street to avoid a guy who turns out to be nice than not cross it when it turns out he really isn't. (Note - I generally don't cross the street to get away from people. But I do take plenty of precautions like looking under my car before I get in or holding my keys between my fingers, no matter how ridiculous I feel doing it.)
And I'm not here to talk about how women have it worse. For one thing, there are plenty of male rape victims. (Language in that one, too, and please note, the first part of it is satire. It's a very good article, and necessary.) They should in no way be excluded. But I am here to talk about the other side of the coin - Schrodinger's Whore. You don't like reading that, do you? Whore is an ugly word. It's used to condemn women who have had sex (often women who have had sex with someone who isn't the person using the word). Well, I mean it to be ugly here. Much like men who have raped women have cast a pallor over all other men, women who have falsely accused men of rape have cast a pallor over all other women. These women may regret their encounter, or may not want anyone to know that they've consented to sex. Worse, they may want to harm the target of their accusation. Lives can be ruined this way. It is never ok to make a false accusation - especially in this area. I cannot imagine the terror and devastation inflicted on someone who is accused this way.
The saddest effect of this is that an actual rape victim often feels like they are the one on trial. What was she wearing? Was she drinking? Has she had sex before? Has she had sex with the accused before? All of these questions trying to prove that the accusation is false. Much like the author in the articles referenced above has no way of knowing whether someone is a rapist because there's a chance they might be, those who hear these accusations, unless there's clear evidence of physical wounding, can't know that a claim is legitimate.
Compounding this issue is victim blaming, which is based in the same psychological shaping that creates a love of fairy tales. Good people are rewarded. Bad people are punished. The good guys wear white hats, the bad guys twirl black mustaches. And if you're a good person, bad things won't happen to you. See, if the victim is at fault in a rape, I won't ever be raped. I don't get drunk. I don't wear super revealing clothes. I don't walk in shady areas at night. So, phew, hooray! If, however, rape is the perpetrator's fault, you can be raped even if you do everything right. I hate sharing this story, but if I don't speak up about my own experiences, I can't expect others to do so either. When I was in college, I was dating a guy we'll call Mark. He was a friend of my friend, so he came complete with references. We had only been on a few dates, and had shared a few chaste kisses, no more. He drove an hour to see me one night, and we watched a movie. He was falling asleep, so I told him he could just stay because I was worried about him getting in an accident if he drove home. I woke up in the middle of the night with one of his hands up my shirt and one down my pants. When I shifted, he immediately pulled back and rolled over as though he was asleep. I was frozen. Rooted to the spot. Did that really just happen? Scared, I went back to sleep, and pretended to still be asleep when he left in the morning.
And then I did the worst thing I could have done - told myself it was my fault. I let a guy sleep in my bed. I was only in pajamas (which for me was a tank top and sweat pants). I did this, I was responsible. I even went on more dates with this man afterward because I didn't hold him accountable. When I did break it off with him, it was simply because he was constantly calling or messaging me and I needed space.
I still feel sick to my stomach thinking about it. When I see anything having to do with his favorite TV character (fortunately a show I never watched that is no longer on), I cringe. Now, many people will side with me here - I was a virgin, we hadn't done anything, and I was asleep. Others will insist that it must not have been anything victimizing because I didn't fight. Because I went on other dates with him. But here's the thing - I was sexually touched without my consent. That is literally the only important thing here. I could have been someone who slept with thousands of men. I could have been walking down an alley in stiletto heels and a mini dress while drunk. None of that matters because, and here's where I need you to pay attention: only a rapist will rape you. A decent man will not use an unconscious woman. A decent man will not attack a woman in an alley.
And it gets even greyer. I know a woman who lost her virginity to her boyfriend in high school. Not so uncommon, much as we may not like it. But in her case, it wasn't willingly. Yes, she had been dating this man for quite some time. I knew him - I'd even helped her with a gift for him on a special occasion. But she did not want to have sex with him. She said no. And he did it anyway. She didn't come forward, either. She was hurt, and devastated, but she was also ashamed. Who would take her side? He was her boyfriend, after all. And she didn't punch him in the face. Didn't kick him in the groin. The funny thing is, I told her over and over that it wasn't her fault. That she wasn't to blame. That he was the bad guy. And then a year later, with Mark, I told myself the opposite.
We blame the victim because we want to feel like it can't happen to us. We don't want to think that we could ever be powerless. We want to think that we'd fight back. That no one we know and care about would do that - only shady figures in dark alleys. And women who cry rape when there wasn't one compound the issue, making even some who would normally act with compassion act with suspicion instead. That's why I didn't come forward. I didn't tell anyone about Mark until I was dating my husband. I was too ashamed. Even then, I was surprised when he was mad at Mark and not me. And what happened to me, while awful, could have been insanely worse. There are women who are violated repeatedly - sometimes by family or friends - who feel that they can't come forward because they think people will see them as liars, or whores.
I can't tolerate that. I can't just sit here and not speak out against it. I have a daughter. And I pray with every fiber of my being that she will never go through anything like this. That she will be treated with respect, that no man - or woman - will ever steal her sense of security from her. But if, Heaven forbid, someone did, I would want her to be able to tell someone. To get help. And to receive compassion instead of blame. Healing instead of insults. If life were easy, I would simply say, "Ok, everyone, stop raping and stop lying", and that would be that. Life isn't easy. All I can do is talk to my own child. Teach her the virtue of honesty and the importance of consent.
One more point I need to make is that rapists don't want to see themselves that way. Victim blaming also goes toward wanting to blame someone else rather than believe they (or their loved one) is capable of that. No one wants to think of themselves like that. Which is why coming to Christ can be so difficult - you have to admit that you are a sinner. And you have to repent. If it's this difficult for me to admit that I can be lazy, I can't fathom having to admit to something darker, like abuse, or rape.
If you got this far, good on you. I barely made it myself. And I'm sorry if I interrupted an otherwise lovely day with this topic. But it's important. And if something like this happened to you, and you haven't told because you're ashamed or think people will think you're a liar, tell me. I'll believe you. And I'll help you however I can.
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