infuriatedOkay. The official statistic is that one in six women has been sexually assaulted.
I know a few hundred women. Extrapolate.
"He was my best friend."
"He grabbed me off the street, pulled me into his car."
"I woke up and he was inside me."
So goddamn many.
"I said no, but he didn't listen."
One in six. One in six has had the experience of saying no to sex and having it made crystal clear to her that her "no" does not matter. That disbelief, that dawning knowledge that you are nothing to this person but a hole to be used.
One of the things you live with after that is the constant evaluation of everyone. Am I a person to this guy? Or am I nothing but a cunt and ass to be used? What will I find out if I'm ever in a room alone with him?
"He actually asked me out afterward."
"He tried to drive me home."
"I thought he was going to kill me."
Over. And over. And over.
I am sick right now from this. I am so angry.
I am deliberately not going into the details of rape. What it's like to see his face when he's inside of you. The sick disconnected feeling.
This keeps fucking happening. To amazing wonderful people. It keeps happening.
And I can't do anything.
I can raise money for RAINN. I can bring them to the crisis center. I can be there on the phone, over coffee.
But dammit, I can't make it not happen. I can't make it not have happened.
And I am so furious that it happened again to someone, and I can't make it not have happened. All the king's horses and all the king's men.
I am angry and helpless and... I am really fucking angry. I could organize a fucking lynch mob and go take these bastards down, but I can't make it not have happened.
I am so angry, and there is nothing I can do.
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