Today, I put on my necklace. And I know this may sound crazy, but I wasn’t consenting to someone strangling me.
Today, I put a lot of hairspray in my hair. Slow your roll, though, I wasn’t consenting to getting set on fire.
Today, I put on some sweet stilettos. And I know you must be thinking, “Well, isn’t that just asking for someone to take them off of you and stab you to death?” Oddly enough, no.
Strangely, when I put things on my body, I’m not putting up a sign that says “Yes, please, do unspeakably horrible things to me!” In fact, even if I was wearing a sign that said “Yes, Kill me,” I don’t think anyone would blame me for being murdered. I mean…
Signs, clothes, jewelry, makeup…
None of those things say “Break Laws.”
None of those things excuse the attacker from his or her actions.
None of those things put a gun to someone’s head and said: “Kill me.”
If I was found murdered, strangled with my own pair of underwear, would it have been my fault for wearing underwear that day?
If a murderer went to court for shooting a girl and said “But, your honor, she had a target on her shirt, it wasn’t my fault,” the perpetrator would, at best, get an insanity plea.
So, why, is the world still so much in the practice of blaming a girl for wearing a dress that showed too much cleavage on the day she was raped? For wearing shorts that came a little far up her thighs? For not wearing a bra with her backless shirt?
Why, when we know that clothes, makeup, shoes cannot make someone commit a crime, do we blame the person who will spend the rest of his or her life hating that outfit and the memories that go with it?
Why are we going to tell someone, in wearing those leggings as pants, that she consented to being forced into the most vulnerable situation you can be in with someone who she fears?
Why are we saying it’s okay for people to look closer at the bodies in the dresses than the people who they belong to?
What is the deal, here, people?
I just can’t seem to understand why, when we claim, as a civilization to be evolving more and more every day, we can’t seem to figure out that no one is asking to be raped.
That’s why it’s called rape.
As in unwanted, unsolicited, not asking for it.
As in STOP confusing society with the teachings that anything besides a coherent and clear “Yes,” means “Yes!”
We are in a time of great social change, and it’s scary for some, but it’s infinitely less scary than a traumatic forced sexual encounter with someone who has no regard for your well-being, terror, or safety.
People look at rape as a problem that has always been and always will be. It has become accepted because, “you can’t control everyone,” and “one bad person will always ruin it for the rest!”
And I sympathize,
I mean, I remember a time when I didn’t try to fix a problem, so it did stay the same.
But, I’m calling you
To change the vocabulary.
Remove the sequence of the words, “She was asking for it,”
From your conversations.
Redefine drunk slurs and nervous shrugs,
And abolish any ideas or illusions of consent that might go with
Any Given Outfit
Create a Vocabulary of Allies,
Because consent isn’t sexy,
It’s mandatory.
