You don’t know me, but I’ve read all about you. Or more specifically, all about your rape.
I am a woman just like you. A sister just like you. A daughter just like you. But most importantly, I’m a person just like you.
When I first read about you, I cried. I cried because of your pain. I cried because of the hurt you had to endure. The pain you never shared. The pain that others shared for you.
Then I read some more, and I got angry. I wanted to yell and scream and break a window and demand that retribution be met. Who was Brock Turner to come and take your security? To force himself on you when you had no way of fighting back? Who was Aaron Persky to decide that Brock Turner was a “good enough guy” before the rape to not have a harsher sentence? Who decided that his “bright future” was more important that yours? The justice system failed you.
Then I read some more and I became outspoken. I posed articles on social media, wrote posts about the injustice of your situation, and the case as a whole. Had lengthy conversations with my friends on how we measure women based on their past, while men are judged for their future. Who decided that one life was worth more than the other? Turner’s father asked people to not judge his son based on “20 minutes of action”, but we all know that you will always be remembered for your 20 minutes of pain.
Then I read some more and I got annoyed. Why does alcohol always have to play such an important role? Why didn’t the other guys at the party rape you if alcohol was the reason for Turner’s “20 minutes of action”? Why is It okay for him to rape you just because he was drunk? Why did you have to be careful about how much you drank? You didn’t know you were going to be rape while unconscious under a set of bleachers. Why do people make it seem that being intoxicated justifies the crime that Turner committed? Can men not control their actions?
You don't know me, but I think you're incredible. I think you're brave. I think you are tougher than people give you credit for. I don't know what I would do if I was in your shoes, and I hope that I never know, but you give me hope of not losing myself if this ever happened to me.
You are still you. You are strong. You are a fighter, and no one, no one can take away your grace or your strength.
You will never forget this, but you will get through this. You will get to the other side and you will know that there are millions behind you. You will know that there is a 21 year old girl sitting at her computer, writing about your strength that will always be behind you.
You are not alone.
He did not break you. You will carry on. You have the strength. You are much stronger than he will ever be; remember that.
"You are a woman. Skin and bones, veins and nerves, hair and sweat. You are not made of metaphors. Not apologies, not excuses."
If you or someone you know has been sexually assaulted, call 800.656.HOPE (4673) to be connected with a trained staff member from a sexual assault service provider in your area.
