#MeToo (1/4)
Out of Silence
I’ve always prided myself on being an open book. If you’ve been on my social media, you’d know I am literally the Queen of Oversharing. But when I was sexually assaulted last August, I was uncharacteristically rendered silent.
Why? I was scared. Coming forward meant coming under public scrutiny. I could be hit with the classic slut-shaming: What were you wearing? Were you drinking? I would lose control of the narrative— people could try to interpret my actions as consent, make assumptions about me or my experience. Anything could be used against me. How I flaunt my body’s assets, how naturally flirtacious I am, how I love making sexual innuendoes… Like a tail on a donkey, they would try to pin the blame on me.
And the thing is, I knew I wasn’t the most sympathetic victim. I probably wasn’t a sympathetic victim at all, by our crappy societal standards. I HAD been drinking. I was wearing the red crop top I knew made my boobs look great, and a short white skirt that clung to my curves. And I knew that no matter how trendy feminism has become, I would inevitably face some kind of backlash. I’d read enough articles (and Facebook comment threads) to know that misogynistic meninists would rear their ugly troll heads from some dark corner of the Web.
As I’d later realize, this was exactly why sexual assault goes unreported. When you’ve been sexually assaulted, you know what it feels like to be utterly powerless. Then, if and when you speak up, it can feel empowering, but it can also be oppressing and traumatic. On the one hand, you’re ‘taking back the night’ and reclaiming some agency by declaring your truth. But on the other hand, you’re actively giving up control of your own story, knowing that other people will form their own opinions on this very private matter. Being vulnerable to others’ judgments can be as triggering and damaging as the assault itself.
It hasn’t been until recently, months and months after the assault, that I’d finally gotten over the fear of losing control. By now, I’ve learned that my truth is my truth and no one can take that away from me. Hard as I may try to explain the details of the incident, other people will never fully understand what happened to me. We may use our words in attempts to describe thoughts, feelings, or experiences we have, but words cannot transfer the actual impressions or sensations. Rest easy knowing that although people will always judge you, their judgments are based on ignorance.
For me, I needed to go public with my story because the alternative meant letting him win. If the assault fundamentally changed the person I am by taking away my voice, I would really be a victim in all respects. So today, I speak up and out of silence.