Because I don’t believe sending someone to prison is going to help me heal.
I didn’t report my rape because I don’t know if it happened.
I didn’t and still haven’t reported my rape, and never will.
Because I didn’t know it was rape.
I didn’t report my rape, because to this day – almost seven years later – I still flip-flop between whether or not it was actually “rape”. It’s funny, if it had happened to anybody else, I probably would say that it was a rape. But because it’s me, well… Anybody who knows me knows that I blame myself for everything. And that night I knew what I was doing, up until a point – I thought I had control of the situation, until I clearly didn’t.
I was raped at four years old by an “uncle”.
X is my cousins best friend. We got together at my cousins 21st many years ago, and dated for about a year. I called it off, for a variety of reasons, the most important being that I knew he wasn’t someone I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. I knew that he felt differently.
I have never told a soul, except for my GP who I saw the next day for HIV tests etc
The alcohol and the exhaustion from the continuing chronic insomnia finally caught up to me, and I had to find a corner and sit on my hands to stop myself from glassing my rapist.
I wasn’t raped. He only fondled my private parts. Nothing thing to see here. Nothing to report. Only a fondle. Several on different occasions over the span of a year or so, actually. But it was nothing too invasive, or violent. Nothing too serious, right? So it felt ridiculous to make a big deal about it.
I had incredibly low self esteem as a child and teenager, my family had moved around a lot and I always felt like an outsider. I had had one very brief, naive relationship, and wasn’t really sure how to go about dating, but I was very lonely, and desperate for someone to take an interest in me in the hopes it would somehow validate my existence. A 19 year old who worked as a waiter where I also worked seemed to take an interest in me.
I knew I would be judged, I knew I would be blamed, I knew I would be ridiculed and called a liar and I never would have spoken out had it not been for my suicide attempt.
I was a 21 year old student when I was raped. A guy I had known for a few months, spent a lot of time with violated me. He wanted us to see each other on a more bf/gf sense but I wasn’t interested in him. Nonetheless we continued the friendship my friends I knew… Read More ›
Note: Less than a day after news was broken of an allegation of rape against Cosatu general secretary Zwelinzima Vavi and vicious rape myths are already circulating in public discourse. These myths hurt all rape survivors. The most common myth I have picked up so far is that fallacy that, because Vavi’s accuser has not opened a police case, she must be lying. I put out a call on Twitter for survivors who didn’t report to send me their story. I will be publishing them as they come in.
Again, another comment I made on @ivovegter’s column that I wanted to cross post here. This is a discussion about my activism and the shape it takes. I often get snipes from people that I only do “online activism” or “slacktivism” – a completely baseless claim. I think it’s premised on the fact that I am a very outspoken netizen and always online, but it’s fallacious none the less. So here’s what my activism is.