Understanding #WhyIdidntreport

First something pretty to look at. Actually, a few pretties. While I don’t see nearly as many wildflowers here in the city on my morning walk as I did out in the country. I recently came across a few.

This next picture is of a flower that popped up in the middle of a small field along the RR right-of-way. The stems are like those of the Lycoris radiata  which is also called a red spider lily, but these flowers never opened and stood tall like the spider lily.

The last picture is of a vine with flowers that are probably morning glories, but the flowers are much smaller than what I have seen before. Each bloom is only about an inch and a half in diameter.

Now for the tough stuff.

As the Brett Kavanaugh senate confirmation hearings have gone on, and women have accused him of sexual assault, the response has been to push the blame elsewhere. It’s a political attack by the Democrats. The women are lying. The dems put them up to it. Why didn’t the women report the abuse when it happened?

Too many men and, unfortunately, a few women, don’t seem to understand why it is so difficult for women who have been sexually assaulted to step forward. This whole #whyIdidntreport that has become so prevalent on social media has now prompted women to share the reasons they didn’t come forward when they were assaulted or raped.

This is my story, a story so painfully similar to those of too many other women. .

I was sexually assaulted when I was nineteen by a friend of my girlfriend who was supposed to be taking me home from her wedding reception. He asked if we could stop by his house on the way because he had to pick something up and would I mind?

Not suspecting anything because my girlfriend said he was a good guy, and it was okay to go with him, I agreed. We went into the house and he told me sit down in the living room while he went to look for whatever it was he was going to get. He told me that his father was home sleeping, and we had to be quiet, so I sat quietly waiting for him.

A couple of minutes later, he came back and sat down on the couch next to me and proceeded to try to kiss me. I told him I wasn’t interested and would he please stop.

He didn’t.

He pushed me down on the sofa and tore my blouse open, continuing to try to kiss me, assault my body, and get my clothes off. The only thing that saved me from actually being raped was when his brother came home and called out, “What’s going on?”

The boy rolled off me, and I jumped up, grabbed my purse, and ran out of the house, trying to hold my blouse together with one hand.

This happened at about two in the morning. I was in a small town in Michigan that I was not familiar with. I had a general sense of where my girlfriend’s house was, which was where I was supposed to go after the wedding, but I’d only recognize the street when I got close enough.

I walked all the way to her house which was probably about ten blocks, hoping and praying that a police officer would come by. I was so scared. So lost. So upset. But part of me didn’t want a police officer to stop. I didn’t want to tell anyone that humiliating story of what had happened.

And I’d already started blaming myself. I’d been drinking. I didn’t use good judgement in accepting the invitation to go into his house. I should have fought harder. It was all my fault.

I have read several comments on Facebook this whole week, that assign blame to Dr. Ford in a similar vein. What was she thinking? Why did she go to the party? Why did she drink?

Hello people, we don’t go to parties, or drink, with the intent of getting assaulted.

What happens is totally on the men.

The “wink-wink” “nod-nod” response to men and boys taking advantage of women has gone on too long. The grunge locker-room bragging about grabbing women has gone on too long. The mentality that men will be men and boys will be boys and the women better watch out has gone on too long. The acceptance of behavior such as “trains” and “sex-tally” clubs has gone on too long.

This is not an indictment of all men. I know many who treat women with the utmost respect and wouldn’t consider demeaning them in any way. But there are too many, especially those in powerful positions in business and politics, who think their power excludes them from responsibility.

I kept my story hidden for almost thirty years. I was so ashamed that I buried it deep in my subconscious, and it only came forward when I was writing my book on Drugs and Date Rape for the Rosen Publishing Group. Mary’s story in the first chapter is really my story, but I was almost to the end of the chapter before the realization hit.

I was stunned.

Whatever the outcome of the Kavanaugh hearings, I do hope the #metoo and and the #whyIdidntreport movement forces a huge change in the way society, and law enforcement, looks at rape and sexual assault.

Women should not be blamed.

Period.

End of rant. If you would like to respond in the comments, I only ask that you be polite and civil. 

Have a great weekend.

I am going to be at the Decatur Public Library in Decatur, Texas on Saturday, visiting with readers and other authors. If you’re in the neighborhood, stop on by.