COLUMN: My Rapist Doesn’t Know He’s a Rapist
He was my friend. We marched together in the marching band of 200 people all throughout high school. He was a year older than me, and we would hang out in the summertime together, catching up on old times and ancient memories.
Until one night when things went too far. We had been drinking underage like stupid young people do because of underdeveloped frontal lobes and I could feel him breathing down my shoulders. Too close for comfort. I was drunk and he was sober. He thought I consented, but I couldn’t. It’s the classic “he said, she said” case that everyone fears. It’s the classic “he said, she said” case that I thought I would never experience.
My rapist doesn’t know he’s a rapist. I am afraid while writing this. Afraid of what people will think about me.
“Is she lying? Did she deserve it? Everyone makes mistakes.”
I am afraid that because of the new Title IX laws, mandatory reporters will swarm at me, invading my privacy. But I guess there is no privacy once you tell the entire school: My rapist doesn’t know he’s a rapist.
I don’t remember much of what happened, except for feeling disgusted. I remember what he was saying and how I felt. I used to not be able to talk about it. I used to feel very angry and I am just now coming out of my depression.
But I don’t know if I would change my life path. I think pondering the “what ifs” are a waste of time. I feel that by sharing my story I can be a better advocate for people, for survivors.
I hold a lot of anger. I am starting to let it go, but cynicism can so easily hold one’s humanity hostage. Time heals and replenishes one’s humanness.
My rapist and I are both victims: victims of a culture that does not teach men what consent is and teaches women to be on constant high alert. The standards are so low for men that our society throws unto them excuses, but not education-misogyny, but not information.
For the longest time I felt hatred for the person who violated me, but I realized that my hatred was towards the wrong individual. The energy from my hatred is not immoral; perhaps it could be used for good. Which is what I attempt to do now. Do not think this doesn’t happen on campus. Do not think that most sexual assaults always with weapons or threat. Thinking this way takes away the story of survivors like myself where their attacker was a friend, an acquaintance.
My rapist doesn’t know he’s a rapist. And I know I am not alone. If anyone else is facing this, your experience is not uncommon-stay strong. It will get better.
To talk to someone about sexual aggression you may contact Sexual Aggression Peer Advocates at 989-774-CALL. You are not alone.
