Normal was a privilege that was no longer mine.įor years I carried with me a sense that I would be dead by 35 because that notion of a normal life sure didn’t fit me anymore. I also learned that the nice normal course of life wasn’t to be mine anymore. Rape taught me that the world didn’t abide by a sense of law and order and that the world was a random and dangerous place. They are always on the alert and often startle easily. Many rape victims struggle with a sense of hyperawareness. My sense of trust and order in the world was shattered because now I couldn’t tell anymore who was good or bad and my world wasn’t safe or orderly anymore. But what happened when I got to his place was not what the world told me was supposed to happen with a nice looking clean-cut young man who seemed interested in me. Maybe it would lead to a relationship, and he would even call me his girlfriend! I trusted him and why shouldn’t I? He didn’t have a knife he seemed nice, no tattoos, we enjoyed dancing together. I went back with him to his place thinking maybe we would kiss and lightly fool around and that was it. I spent my high school struggling with self-image as many girls at that age do, so for someone to suddenly maybe like me was thrilling. I was young and the idea that somebody might actually like me was completely new and exciting to me. My rape occurred at college, as many do, and I remember the feeling of excitement as we danced together. Our society would have to grapple with the idea that anyone can be a rapist, and that’s a pretty scary place to live. If our society actually started handing out equal sentences to all rapists a lot more clean-cut looking men and women would be behind bars. It’s why judges give clean-cut white male offenders lenient sentences because it couldn’t have really been rape or at least not a “bad rape” if he doesn’t look like a rapist. We think we know what rapists look like and where rape happens.
Much of our society clings to this feeling that we can prevent rape because we know how to avoid it.
You knew where rape happened too, in those dark alleys and dangerous looking places, so you just had to avoid those places. In America that stereotype is a black or minority male or if a white male he would be covered with tattoos. You knew rape happened, but you also knew it wouldn’t happen to you because you knew what a rapist looked like. Before you were raped, you understood if you didn’t go down dark alleys at night you wouldn’t get raped. Your trust in the world and belief in right and wrong is shattered too, at least mine was. A Profound Loss of Trust & Sense of Normalcy I was living my life with a glass wall between me and the rest of the world. At times it could be helpful as it was a way to numb pain but it also meant I couldn’t experience joy either. People always remarked at how calm or cool I was, but it was because I had developed a way of living my life so that I was always somewhat removed from the experiences of my surroundings. They may fluctuate in the degree to which they disassociate what was a tool for surviving their rape becomes a learned coping strategy.įor me, it meant I couldn’t feel things in the moment. Sadly many rape victims stay disassociated for the rest of their life. Disassociation is a survival mechanism, natural to all humans.
Most rape victims disassociate and experience the whole rape like an out of body experience. This is not to discount the experiences of people who have been severely wounded during rape but to acknowledge that many of the wounds of rape aren’t physical. When someone rapes you, it’s not so much about the physical pain you feel. We develop different coping methods, but we show remarkable uniformity in the types of struggles we deal with.
It’s remarkable how every rape can be unique, but every rape victim I’ve ever met, including me, struggles with the same issues months, years or even decades later. The pain rape causes you can last a lifetime. The pain you experience from being raped doesn’t correlate to the number of cuts or punches or verbal threats to your life you received. The pain of rape has nothing to do with bumps or bruises, cuts or blood. It took me fourteen years to admit I couldn’t do it on my own. I spent the next years trying to pick up the bloodied pieces of my self-worth while trying to not shame myself for being in such a state. It feels like someone taking a knife and stabbing your soul over and over until nothing is left but the bloody remnants of what was once self-worth and self-love.