Archive

Please reload

Tags

Please reload

Diary of a Twenty-Something: 09.25.18.

September 25, 2018

 

 

I never found the courage in myself to create a post for the #metoo movement, but I think that will change in the future. This last year, I have opened up a lot about my mental health issues, and my history with an abusive partner, and the trauma that it left behind. I'm actually really proud of myself. 

 

I've noticed that the #metoo movement has grown and evolved into the #whyineverreported movement, and I wanted to share my story for this one.

 

I was raped last September. 

 

 

 

I never reported it. 

 

He was my boyfriend of two years- there was a small handful of friends (like, two) who knew he was problematic, but they never knew to what extent. He had met my parents a month earlier. We shared an apartment. We had a dog together. He was my partner, and we had shared a bed for two years- did it even count as rape? 

 

I never reported it. 

 

This didn't happen with a stranger. This didn't happen in a dark alleyway, after walking home alone. This happened in our home. "What were you wearing?" they might ask, and I'd respond that I was wearing a loose t-shirt and underwear because this was my home. 

 

 

I never reported it. 

 

 

There were no witnesses. I had asked him about it later, but he was blackout drunk, and wouldn't have remembered anyway.

 

There were two witnesses: one of them was the rapist, and one of them was raped. Who would believe me? 

 

 

 

I never reported it. 

 

 

 

I remember saying no. I remember saying no, over and over and over again. But when he raped me, I stopped resisting. I curled into a ball and cried the whole time. This part of the story has guilted me since that night. I stopped resisting. I stopped saying 'no.' I gave up, and curled into a ball, and let it happen. 

 

If I had reported it, would the justice system have helped me? He was a physically abusive alcoholic, and I was afraid of him. When he tried to rape me, I didn't fight back, I broke down. So did it still count as rape?

 

 

 

 

I never reported it.

 

 

 

 

So many important, silenced, and repressed stories have surfaced through the #metoo and #whyineverreported movement, and what these stories have taught me is that victims don't win. So many rapists are never convicted. The ones that are, get a quick slap on the wrist and then re-enter society. 

 

 

 

 

 

I never reported it.

 

 

 

 

I broke up with my rapist while he was in jail for a DUI. I paid $15 to connect to the county jail and leave him over the phone. I had to cooperate with his family in keeping his DUI a secret from his employer, because they were afraid he'd lose his job over it.

 

He should have lost his job over it.

 

But he didn't. 

 

I should have told his employer everything.

 

But I didn't.

 

I had finally built up the courage to leave him. Really leave him. Like, 'this time I'm really not coming back' leave him. At the time, that was enough for me. I was so hurt, and so battered, and so broken from that relationship, that I counted myself lucky for escaping the apartment. It never occurred to me to report anything. I never called the police. I never reported the rape.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I never reported it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And I will never end up reporting it. 

 

 

 

 

Please reload

Recent Posts

Please reload

 

Contact

Follow

©2017 by Blackdenimchic. Proudly created with Wix.com