Why I Believe Christine Blasey Ford
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It’s hard to avoid the Ford/Kavanaugh hearing.
Last morning, I came upstairs to see my parents silently watching it on TV. As I was microwaving some leftovers, I peered over and saw Christine Blasey Ford, giving her emotional and intense testimony of the events that occured when she was a college student. They asked her how sure she was that her rapist was Brett Kavanaugh, and she said, “100%.” She recalled him and his fraternity brothers “laughing” as they left the room. Ford said she never forgot his “uproarious” laughter. And I am sure she did not.
What followed was the usual social media backlash. Normally, people’s passive comments on Facebook don’t even get my attention, but as I scrolled through comments left on articles about the hearing, I saw overwhelming support for Kavanaugh. I saw men (and women) scrutinize and pick apart her behavior; why hadn’t any of Ford’s friends noticed any emotional change after the accused rape? She’s being inconsistent. It’s a political hit. Why would she wait decades to come forward?
I couldn’t believe what I was reading. While there are many like-minded individuals who agree with my stances, I couldn’t seem to shake the thought that there are people talking on the experience of victims without even having that experience. I saw men complain that they are the real victims in these situations. Their lives can be ruined with one accusation. What about the victim’s life? She was forced into a situation that will stay with her for a lifetime. These men were forcefully inserted into her timeline, her life, her wellbeing.
I’ve been raped. Unfortunately, more than once. I have friends who have been raped. Also, more than once. I want to dispel any misconceptions about what it is like to go through such a traumatic and destructive event.
I was raped when I was 14 by a stranger, and then a few years later by someone I knew. The first time, I had police involvement. The second time was much more complicated.
The second time I was assaulted by someone I knew a few years after my first assault, I didn’t tell anyone what had happened to me. None of my friends knew. It took me a long time to even disclose that information to anyone. In my head, I thought telling anyone would be “dramatic”. I worried I would lose friends, or worse, they wouldn’t believe it. I didn’t want to change anything or create sides. I remembered when I was 14, reading a newspaper article that was written about my sexual assault, and sobbing into my hands as I read the comments. Strangers, who had no idea who I was or what had actually happened, telling me that I deserved it, that I had it coming, what did I expect getting into a situation like that? I didn’t want that to happen again this time. I was scared of what people would say.
And so, I bottled it up. For a long time. I watched on the sidelines as he continued his life, a life that I was no longer a part of. It felt so unfair, because he would always be a part of mine. I didn’t get that choice. He took it away from me when he raped me.
You’d be surprised how quick victims can be to blame themselves, to rationalize what happened and try to make sense of it. For a long time, I didn’t even want to admit that I was raped. He was a friend. He was someone I trusted. I cried in my bathroom for a few days afterwards, and then I pushed it down until it was buried. My friends had absolutely no idea what I was going through. I was able to compartmentalize it. That’s what can happen with trauma. Sometimes, you don’t even initially realize how big of an impact an event has on you, until it’s been 6 months and you’re shaking in a bed next to a new boy, wondering if, when you fall asleep, he’ll do the same as the last.
People loved to pick apart Ford’s facial expressions and behavior at the hearing; people who have no knowledge of psychology or what it’s like to undergo sexual trauma. Rape will not and never did dictate my life. I was still able to laugh, smile, be with friends and have a good time, even in the days after it happened. Everyone reacts to trauma differently. Some react with laughter in uncomfortable situations, some shut down, some cry. We are all different. Trauma is strange and sometimes extremely confusing, especially when you’re experiencing it.
The social implications of coming forward as a victim are immense. Why didn’t she come forward sooner? There are millions of reasons why a victim wouldn’t come forward. First of all, court is expensive. And, a guilty verdict is not guaranteed. Actually, a lot of men get off without any charges or with minimal charges. Brock Turner was sentenced to 3 months. These cases send a message to women everywhere that, even with eye-witness accounts, evidence, and rape kits, your rapist can roam free in the world.
We live in a male-centric world. We turn the abusers into victims, by saying things like, “His life is ruined.” We blame the victims for coming forward. We find excuses for rape. Victims face death threats, humiliation, as well as the trauma that follows being raped.
We, as a society, love to think that social progress is linear. We are optimistic, hopeful. But these moments, when powerful men get accused and the victims are blamed, when guilty rapists get off with a slap on the wrist, when men complain about what “feminism and women are doing to men”, are a punch in the gut every time. As a woman, it darkens my view of the world.
However, the future does not have to be bleak, if we rise up together. We need men to use their privilege and their elevated platform to fight with us, not against us. Women will always, at least in my lifetime, be suppressed and silenced by men. I think men may be hesitant to voice their support, maybe they believe it is not their place. But, maybe as much as we don’t want to admit it, we need their support. We need their voices. We need their fight. Us women, we can make waves of change, as we have all through history. We may be socioeconomically beneath men, but we can fight just as hard as them, if not harder.
Understand that women who have undergone assault at the hands of a man, even women in general, we have a chip on our shoulder. We’ve all been victims at some point. We’re constantly objectified, oppressed, and shamed. Being a woman can be exhausting. Having to bat away handsy men, having to keep 911 locked and loaded on your phone as you walk down a dark street, or having to justify the fact you didn’t deserve to be raped.
I believe Dr. Ford. Her, along with the many other women who stepped forward in the face of ridicule against powerful men, are emblems of courage. The men who support her and others are important to this social movement. As I watched her, tearing up as she recalled the horrifying events of her assault, I was moved by her bravery. We still are not in a world where every woman can comfortably come forward. We risk being bombarded with hate, and oftentimes, no justice.
We cannot let the hate overpower the overwhelming support. I believe that we will reach a point of more peace and equality, but we have to fight for it on both sides. We have to listen to each other, dispel the misconceptions, and empathize with other’s experiences. We will make it, perhaps not in my lifetime, but someday. A small light of hope in the distance is the only thing women can grasp onto in such dark times. It’s the only thing we have. But one thing I know for sure, is that women will never give up. Whether it takes starving ourselves in a cell, marching down the streets, or testifying in the face of an abuser.
We will never give up.
