George Will, You Are The Reason I Did Not Report My Rape...

Last edited Tue Jun 17, 2014, 05:47 PM - Edit history (1)

Mr. Will,

I came across your article titled "George Will: Colleges become the victims of progressivism" (http://www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/george-will-college-become-the-victims-of-progressivism/2014/06/06/e90e73b4-eb50-11e3-9f5c-9075d5508f0a_story.html) I had to put down the article several times before being able to read it all. I could not write about an article I had not fully read and so read on I did.

Mr. Will, your article was like a tiny bit of vomit that gets stuck in my throat. I try to wash it down but I cannot seem to get rid of it. The aftertaste is horrible and I am stuck with it.

You obviously do not know anyone who has been raped so let me introduce myself. I am a 45 year old housewife and mother of two. I want you to get to know me so you cannot blindly make comments about that which you now nothing about.

In my early 20's I went to a party. It was at an apartment complex. There was drinking and we all ended up down at the pool. We were all having fun and the next thing I know, I am upstairs in the apartment with a guy I had been talking to. It was a someone I had never met before that night. We ended up on the bed making out but what is the harm in that because I can always say no, right?

Of course, in your article you talk about a woman who said no
(“No, I don’t want to have sex with you.” And then he said, “OK, that’s fine” and stopped. .?.?. And then he started again a few minutes later, taking off my panties, taking off his boxers. I just kind of laid there and didn’t do anything — I had already said no. I was just tired and wanted to go to bed. I let him finish.&quot Saying 'no' seems to be no protection for her in your eyes. The guy can still persist and if the woman is less than adequate about speaking up, after she already has, then that is on her and the rape is her fault. So I assume, as I continue my story, that you will decide what follows is my fault as well.

We were making out on the bed. I had a white flowing dress on. It was something he could easily lift up with one hand. I saw that he was trying to gain access to me and decided to derail him. Mr. Will, maybe I could have spoken out at the time and perhaps the alcohol had clouded my judgement. At that moment I instinctually knew what he wanted and I felt he was not going to stop until he had reached his goal. Rightly or wrongly, I decided to barter with him. I offered up orally servicing him and in exchange I had hoped he would just go away when that was done. He accepted but that was not enough for him. After he was taken care of, to a certain degree, he decided he would have his just desserts. He climbed on top of me and spread my legs. I looked up at him and said no. I said it forcefully and it was not something he could have misunderstood. I said no and I meant it. He looked me in the eye and slid inside of me and, as he did, he said, "Too late." He had not been inside of me when I said no so it had not been too late. I had drawn a solid line and he crossed it.

I did not give my consent! I did not say yes and then change my mind afterward. It does not matter that I was drinking. It does not matter if I had originally said yes but changed my mind. When a woman says no then that is what needs to be abided by.

The moments afterwards were the icing on the cake. He got dressed and went out to party again. I stumbled into the hallway where I saw the girl who accompanied me to the party. She looked in my eyes and asked what was wrong. I cried and said the guy had forced himself on me. She followed me to the bathroom where she held my hair while the toilet held an equal mixture of tears and vomit. When I was finally done I looked up at her and said I wanted to go home. (her boyfriend had driven us there) She looked at me and said that her boyfriend wanted to stay there a while longer and maybe we could leave in an hour or two! I called a taxi and found my way home on my own.

In the wee hours of the morning I called my boyfriend of two years. I told him how this guy had forced himself on me and I cried. My boyfriend wanted me to call the police and said I needed to get help. The problem is when people who have been raped call the cops, they often get put on trial themselves. It is like you are getting raped a second time. And if I wasn't going to face the cops and be made to feel like it was my fault, then I was not going to get the help my boyfriend implored me to get. I told him if he wanted to talk about it then I could not be with him. I broke up with him then and there and never talked to him again. Two years gone in an instant.

I found a couple of my friends to be reminders of the incident as well. They seemed to be less than supportive of me and so they also went by the wayside.

I could not talk to my mom about it. Years before, my Uncle's friend had come onto me. I warned him to stay away and he did not. I broke his skin with my fingernails and my mom punished me, a teenager, rather than a 30 something year old man. She said I could have just moved away from the guy. Would she say the same thing about my rape?

Oh, there is that word - rape. I could not use it for several years afterward. I would always say, "When he did what he did to me." And, thankfully, my mind has protected me a lot from what happened. Once the guy said it was too late, and entered me, I cannot remember anything else he did. It is totally blocked out. My mind has been very merciful to me and I have no plans on going in and trying to undo the safety net it has afforded me.

When I finally could say 'rape' I also attached the word survivor. By claiming that word I took back so much power for myself. I was not cowering in the corner and hiding what happened to me. Instead, I survived and now was thriving. It would not have any hold over me. I was free.

But do you know what one of the hardest parts of the rape survival was for me? Making an appointment to be tested for STD's. I had no idea who this guy was and what his sexual habits were. A complete stranger caused me to go get tested and have to wait to see if I had gotten something temporary or maybe something worse. Would a stranger literally be the death of me? I was so relieved when I got the all clear results. But having to take that test was the final punch in the stomach after everything that happened.

The rape still effects me in small ways. I abhor the look people give you when you say what happened. I am strong and need no pity or looks of sadness but it always seems to be there. This is why I have rarely discussed this subject one on one and in person.

The other way it has effected me is quite the opposite. When someone speaks up and says something that reflects a lack of compassion or empathy for what others have gone through, I feel the need to publicly put a face to the words 'rape victims'. You see, Mr. Will, when someone speaks out about legitimate rape or how people will come forward in droves to claim they are victims, I have a deep seeded need to also come forward and say that this is what a rape 'victim' looks like. We are people with feelings and families. We are not here to advance some imaginary cause. We are not stepping stones for you to achieve a goal.

You and your ilk are the reason I did not come forward when I was raped. You make it that much harder for your wife, mother, sister or daughter to report when they have been sexually assaulted. You are the reason I have not regretted my silence for even a single day. I have talked to many people and because of people like you, they have also refused to come forward about their rapes. Mr. Will, if you are not part of the solution then what exactly are you?