Funhouse Reflections: Dealing With Assault Scenes in Media
[TW: Rape, sexual assault]
Usually, I love seeing myself reflected in media. As a queer, neurodivergent girl that was raised working-class, I spent most of my adolescence searching for representation in media in order to feel validated. Buffy the Vampire Slayer was the first piece of media that drew me in, held me close, and sent me off into the world with a warrior’s heart and mind dedicated to feminism. 11-year-old me dove off the fandom cliff head first into the seas of pop culture feminism in search of mirrors, portraits of people and experiences I could relate to. Seeing queer characters, badass female characters, successful (but still mentally ill) characters, and teenage characters who help their families pay bills — characters like me — helped me feel real and worthy of respect.
Finding pieces of myself in media, both who I am and who I want to be, has always been vital to my life, to my happiness. The media I’ve consumed, analyzed, fell in love with, obsessed over, and even hated have all helped me in countless ways.
But the thing is, I don’t want to see all parts of myself reflected in media.
Seeing myself, my experiences, reflected back to me has benefited me in a multitude of ways. However, the reflections are neither infallible nor universally helpful. All too recently, a couple of my friends were discussing American Horror Story. One friend gushed about the newest season and asked if anyone else had watched it. I replied that I had not, as I’d decided to stop watching after season 3 because of the excessive sexual violence featured in its episodes. She replied with, “It’s not so bad,” and continued talking about the show. I stopped listening because, like many survivors of sexual assault, I often feel guilty for not being “over it” after years have passed.
I want to believe that “It’s not my fault,’ “I didn’t deserve it” and “I am okay now.” However, like many survivors might tell you, it’s not that easy. While I am all for portrayals of survivors of sexual assault in media (hell, even sexual assault can be OK if it isn’t glamorized or sensationalized — shout-out to Jessica Jones), I’ve begun hiding from media in fear that that a specific reflection will be waiting for me. However, most of the time the mirrors are hidden. An accent mirror on an empty wall, the reflection of a shiny building, a newly cleaned window. I see the worst parts of myself reflected in mirrors other people don’t even notice.
Everyone is impacted by the media they consume. It changes us. It moves us. It informs us. Sometimes we can’t be sure how it’s impacting us or what thoughts it will leave us with when we turn it off. While shows like American Horror Story and Game of Thrones certainly weren’t the first to use rape as a frequent and brutal plot device, they have contributed to its popularity among TV shows. And this has led to many more people, survivors or not, thinking and talking about sexual assault.
As a survivor, this is hard. It’s hard to hear how seeing fictional rape impacted (or didn’t impact) someone untouched by sexual violence (“I wouldn’t have reacted like that!”).
It’s hard to determine if seeing stories where survivors unquestionably report their abuses will make someone less likely to sympathize with those of us who did not file reports (“Why wouldn’t you report it — they could rape someone else!”).
It’s hard to read how someone doesn’t view a scene in movies like Passengers as sexual violence (“She chose to be with him, it can’t be rape.”) It’s hard to determine if my partner disclosed that a former high school friend sexually assaulted his niece because we’d recently watched and discussed a sexual assault plotline.
Sometimes, I forget the reflections of myself I see in media are portraits to other people. Portraits of strangers in strange situations. While I see a mirror funhouse, complete with captivated fear and disassociation, others see an art museum that are full of pieces to be analyzed and enjoyed at a distance.
It’s difficult seeing myself in adorned halls or on pixelated screens, and also bracing myself for the impact of their reflection. I can’t help but wonder how it will impact me, my communities, my friends, this country, the virtual discussions around a certain topic. Would it be better to not see some things reflected at all? I don’t think so, but I’m still going to spoil most every form of media I consume by first looking up if it portrays sexual assault.
