They said “ I was raped”
Wednesday, December 9, 2020
7:18 PM
Sitting down talking to a friend I have not seen in a very long time, catching up and shooting the shit. We’re both semi-rare breed of derelict who chose, without need, to walk on that “other side” of the tracks without getting lost in it. Tourists go over there and it rarely ends well, but they’re not over there too long. Usually, one or two good scares and they run back to the visage of safety among the upstanding citizens of middle America.
My time spent with drug addicts, lunatics, murderers, and thieves were… mild, in comparison to hers, but neither of us walked away without scars. Her scars… they run deeper than I was prepared to hear. When she was on the streets I would see her every now and again. She would stop by for a moment and then she’d disappear into the wilderness.
I would wonder how on earth a woman like her got into “the life”. College-educated, mother of 4, at one time self-made 6 figures… tiny little blonde with dimples and even tinier voice. How on earth was she navigating out there without getting run through. Every time I would see her, the same thought… “How the fuck is she not dead?”, “How is it no one has trafficked her yet?”
I truly believed that she was just one of the luckiest woman walking this planet. Living this close to the border, white girls that look like her get sold. But… here she is. 3 years later, she’s clean and gainfully employed again. She has partial custody of her kids and is thriving.
We’re talking about how far she’s come and her voice trails off… and she gets this look on her face. I don’t have the vocabulary to really describe the look. Then…all of a sudden we’re talking about the times she had been gang banged. Beaten, robbed, and raped. Left for dead. “It goes with the territory,” she says, shrugs, and were off on a new topic. I couldn’t believe it. I remember I actually said the words “I was wondering how that hadn’t happened.”
I am not naïve. I know full well what is possible when you live “the life”. That being said, to go from that to completely on your feet and getting your kids back in under 36 months? What…?
I’ve seen first-hand, what that kind of thing does to women… they don’t just, recover like that. Not in my experience.
A day later I am talking to another friend of mine, hanging out in his living room talking about this and that. He mentions that he had a therapy session earlier and he is feeling worn down. I assumed that it was family stuff. He had a rough childhood and some unresolved issues I knew about so I just assumed that’s what it was.
“talking about your dad?” I ask.
He makes the same face… I wish I had the words to describe that face. “No, we talked about the 3 times I was raped,” he says. I just sat there, blown away by this confession. He’s still not looking at me though, his eyes are off in the distance somewhere.
As he’s telling me his deepest, darkest moments I cannot help but start to put pieces together. The first two were as a teenager. But the most recent rape happened not long ago… approximately the same time his health really started to decline. This guy… My friend, whom I just assumed was going through a phase, had gone from average to bedridden…was I really paying attention?
He was doing what I would suspect from a rape victim…If he had been a woman, it would have made sense. I would have suspected something traumatic. Of course, yes, men get raped, but we don’t talk about it. It’s harder to see the symptoms in men. Now, looking at him, I can see it. How he’s been hiding himself from the world and dealing with shame…
Really no different from the 1st friend, who’s consumed with work and other obligations. 24 hours in a day, she’s busy for 20 of them. Just the other side of the same coin.
These are not the only two I know personally… after these conversations, I got to wondering, why and how did it come to be that I know so many? I started counting and without taking a poll on Facebook, I counted at least 8 that I know or have known. At least 8. The vast majority had fallen into the cycle of self-hate and abuse, fear, and loathing. They had gone into shitty relationships, become full-time addicts, or hidden away from the world… sometimes all of the above.
3 had not. I could only count 3. The friend above and two other women who I love dearly. Both instances were long before I met either of them, In both instances, there was substantial time for some healing between the event and when we met. That being said, rape was always present in our relationship. It was/is always there… the silent and unwanted partner you can’t get rid of. The rape scene in a movie you weren’t prepared for that triggers a ruined date night. The abrupt depressions. The outbursts. The aversion to touch.
The fear and irrational decision making.
It doesn’t ever seem to leave. It’s an unwanted guest who seems to just hideaway in the basement. Over time, he just stays down there, brooding, but he doesn’t leave. Occasionally popping in or yelling up from the basement… always there.
I don’t know if my familiarity with rape victims is odd or if all of us know at least 8 people who’ve been violated.
I wonder…
I think about the times I wished they would just “get over it”. I wonder if that selfishness was from the frustration of having to deal with someone else’s sins or if… I dunno. Was it selfish? Is it wrong to want your loved ones to stop suffering? Is it that? Or… did I just not want to share their pain? Was I being selfish? I don’t know. And I can’t go back.
What makes me sad is the fear of judgment. I know why those who’ve told me did so… That’s just who I am. Everyone who knows me knows I come without judgment. (aside from politics, social issues, and food)
I’ve fucked up enough for several people and quite a few lifetimes. I have no throne from which to judge. I like to think that is why they told me, I hope I am a safe place. Everyone should hope to be someone’s safe place.
Then I think about my own selfishness, wishing they would get over it. Was I guilty of judgment? I can remember a specific time I said “Ok, but this is now.” and in my head, in my heart of hearts, my intention was to help them see the present. But…was I deceiving myself and passing my own judgment. What gave me the right to tell her to heal on my timeline? Who the fuck gave me that authority… What about “I was wondering how that hadn’t happened.” wtf does that mean?
I wish I could all of those moments back.
The judgment, is that where the fear that lingers gets the fuel to stay long after the event? My second friend said “I’m a man, this shouldn’t happen to me. I’m a man…” I remember thinking that he sounds like every woman who blames herself. Like my 1st friend, “it goes with the territory” it appears to me that the judgment is was does the most damage. I could be wrong. I’m on the outside looking in.
If you are reading this and you’ve been violated… I am writing to you.
You have nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing!
Whatever events or decisions led you to that end, it doesn’t matter.
YOU HAVE NOTHING TO BE ASHAMED OF.
I hope you find/have a safe place. That person(s) who will let you cry.
If you don’t, you will if you are open to receiving it. There is someone who wants to know you. Who wants to be in your corner.
If you are reading this as a bystander. If you are watching from the sidelines as your loved one battles demons that no one should ever face alone.
Be open. Allow them to see you are safe. Let your actions speak. Give them space. Give them trust. Try, try hard to give up your judgments.
Above when I said “substantial time for healing” I didn’t realize until editing I was doing it, even now. I decided to leave it in, hopefully, point out how subtle our judgments can be. Who am I to decide what is a substantial time for healing? Are you making those types of passive demands? Now that you see it, will you endeavor to stop?
We should all want to be someone's safe space.
I hope this found you well and leaves you better.
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