When I Didn’t Consent. Why I reported. Why I didn’t.

[rug]

Elyse, August 30, 2013

I was raped. I reported it. I was raped. I didn’t report it. I was raped. I reported it but I didn’t press charges. I was raped. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do so I told myself that I wasn’t raped.

But I was. I was raped.

We have these conversations about rape, conversations that always include a question of “Was the rape reported to the police?” Women are taught that when they get raped, it is our duty to report it. We are obligated to press charges. We must crusade for justice. If the rapist is a real rapist, and he raped someone, it the victim’s duty to stop him.

And we think we know what rape looks like. We know there’s bushes or drinks involved. There’s kicking and screaming… or unconsciousness… and the word “NO!” can be heard from the next room or by passersby. And there’s crying. Crying during. Crying after. So. much. crying. And there’s blood. At least SOME blood.

http://skepchick.org/2013/08/when-i-didnt-consent-why-i-reported-why-i-didnt/

[Xipe Totec]

1. I'm a very literal kind of guy

To me, no means no, even when it's supposed to mean yes.

Always has, even in one memorable situation a long time ago.

A young woman stood in front of me, eyes closed, lips puckered, chest thrust forward...

She dropped her wrap-around skirt to the floor and trembling there waited...

As I approached, she whispered the magic word... No...

So I turned around and left, closing the door to her bedroom behind me.

Never saw her again.

[MadrasT]

2. K&R

Thanks for sharing this.