I’ve been doing so much searching and reading since I’ve come to the realisation that I was raped. Searching for things like ‘was it rape if I don’t remember’, ‘not remembering my rape’, ‘not remembering my rape and feeling okay’.
All I’ve been able to find are recounts by women who explicitly said no, struggled physically, crawled away, felt pain in their vaginas after, cried, were afraid to say no, had flashes of memories where the men were on top or in them.
My sole memory was of his head between my legs, and I remembered it feeling good.
To know logically and be told by the people I was out with the night before that I was intoxicated, stumbling around drunk with no memories of most of the night; to know that the people I was with told me that I needed to go back cause I was too drunk, and that he offered to send me back cause he wanted to head back anyways; knowing he was completely sober; remembering him telling us about his wife and his promise to keep sober to her. Yet, even knowing all these, to doubt that I was raped and that it was possibly my fault, even asking my friend the next day if I was hitting on him and thus caused the encounter to happen. They all weigh on my mind and heart so deeply and heavily.
I can’t find a single account that would help me feel okay with what happened, to justify that my rape was real, that it happened to me, that I’m not falsely accusing him of taking advantage of me. With each article I read, each forum, each comment, all I feel is guilt that my experience, my memory of what happened, was not ‘good enough’, was not ‘proper’.
As though being a victim of rape needed guidelines:
- You can’t trust men anymore
- You can’t feel sexual desire anymore
- You must have remembered instances of the sexual assault
- You must have been physically hurting from the encounter
- You must be psychologically scarred from the encounter
- You’re never going to want to be alone with men again
- You’re never going to want to drink in public again
But I barely have any of these, and I feel bad, like I’m a fraud. Like I’m not a ‘good example’ of a rape victim and therefore I might not be… entitled to that label. To proclaim or even mention that I went through a rape.
I’m told by feminist friends to stop drinking so much, to not trust guys so easily, to take better care of myself from now on. I was firmly told by doctors that I should report the rape because I need to do my job and help protect other women out there from being at a risk of him in the future. Sure, they said things like “omg I’m so sorry babe” and was ‘comforted’ by their verbal bashings of him, but at the end of the day, I still feel responsible for what happened. Yes he sucks, but they still give advice on how I can prevent it because “there will always be men out there who are not right in the head and will rape you if they can, so you need to protect yourself.” And I’m left feeling simultaneously guilty for allowing the rape to happen, and potentially not being applicable for the title of rape victim.
So this post is for every person out there who was raped while drunk and couldn’t remember anything. For every person out there who trusted that married, sober guy who promised he would take care of you. For the people who were able to feel pleasure. Who aren’t sure if you were penetrated by his penis. Who feel guilty for not being aware till a week later that you were actually raped.
Your rape experience was real. No one can take that away from you. You deserve to feel hurt and vulnerable. You deserve to feel a plethora of emotions, even if it’s not what you think it should be. There are no rules to being raped, to being a victim or a survivor of rape. It’s okay, I’m here for you, my loves.
Keep strong, I’m rooting for you.