Dear Stanford Rape Survivor,
You do not know me. You probably never will. But, you have opened up your life to us with one powerful statement and, through your struggle, I feel like I know you.
I would like to take a moment to acknowledge your strength, courage and bravery that is, and will remain, an inspiration to men and women across our nation. The statement you prepared and so courageously read in front of a courtroom has been shared by many of us and you have been heard.
I cannot imagine what this whole process has been like for you. I cannot take your pain away, but I want you to know that you have millions of people who are here to stand by you. I want you to know that you have impacted my life.
When I first heard about your case and the ridiculousness of the sentencing Brock Turner received, I was furious - furious for you, furious for your family, furious for all the sexual assault survivors out there. When I first heard the sentencing was six months, I wanted to yell and scream but all I could do was cry. Hearing "six months" was like someone knocking me out and kicking me while I was down.
I want you to know I grieve with you. I have no idea what Judge Aaron Persky was thinking; I wish I could get in his head and know why he made the decision that he did. Maybe it was because social status justifies cruelty. Maybe it was because being a white male is far superior to being anything else. Maybe it was because we live in a world where everyone, including our justice system, makes excuses for criminals. Whatever the reason, I cannot find it in my head to justify his decision, because it was just flat out wrong. If citizens get locked up for stealing and murder, I really cannot wrap my head around why so many rapists walk free. Rapists steal our voices, our identities, our ability to function, our ability to trust, our innocence, our right to have a say over our bodies and, in doing all that, they murder us on the inside. So, I will never understand how six months makes up for a lifetime of damage.
What I do know is that you are braver than I have been and I admire your strength. You have fought for every survivor, and I think I speak for all survivors when I tell you that you are not alone. I want to sincerely thank you for having the strength I did not have and for scratching the surface and opening the eyes of the public to what rape culture is. I wish I had the strength you did to stand in a courtroom and fight for my case and take a stand for all the survivors out there. What you did is truly one of the hardest things to do and I want you to know that whatever the outcome, you have changed the way society sees rape culture. It is no longer just a distant thought in one's mind, but it is something you have made roar from the skylines. You have truly been heard, and that is something I did not see happening for a long time.
To stand up in a courtroom, where so many survivors are shut down and where the justice system allows so many rapists and perpetrators of sexual assault walk free, is the most terrifying thing. It is like walking into a test knowing you will fail, but you did the opposite. You succeeded in making a difference in how we as a society think about rape.
We may not know you personally, but I can assure you we all have empathy, love and respect for who you are and what you have done for us. I can tell you have worked hard and struggled to work on healing yourself. I know from experience how difficult it really is to rediscover and take back your voice. I must commend you on who you are as a person. It takes unwavering strength to be raped and survive, but it takes a tremendous amount of determination, support, and patience to heal yourself.
Reading your words brought me back to when I was struggling to heal myself. Heck, sometimes I still struggle, but I want you to understand something - you do not struggle alone. You are stronger today and more beautiful than ever. I hope you read this and understand that I have been where you were and I am incredibly proud of you. When you felt like you did not want to talk or eat, I was there at one point, too. When you would drive to secluded places to scream, I was there at one point, too. When you did not interact with anyone and isolated your self from your loved ones, I was there at one point, too. When you stayed up till 6 a.m. till you finally felt safe enough to fall asleep as the sun shined on your face, I was there at one point, too. I cannot sleep alone at night without a light on. I cannot travel alone in places I do not know. I cannot walk past men alone without being scared. I cannot get in an elevator with men without having a panic attack. Sometimes I cannot feel safe in my own skin.
Thank you for reminding me I do not fight alone, because there are angels like you in the world who take a stand when it is needed. Thank you for fighting this battle not for yourself, but for all survivors. I thought long and hard about whether I should address this letter to Judge Aaron Persky, Brock Turner, or his father, but then I realized you are the only one worth acknowledging here. So I did not waste my breath acknowledging others. You are a hero for all other survivors and I want you to know that, in our eyes, you will always be a winner.
I know you sleep with a picture of two bicycles over your bed, and I want to thank those two men who found you. There really need to be more humans out there like them. I slept with an angel hanging from the fan above my bed for years after I was assaulted because I wanted to believe there was an angel watching over me and that was the only way I could shut my eyes without freaking out. I have struggled with how our society has molded rape culture, but you are the angel who has spoken out and made not only your voice, but also the voice of millions of survivors heard.
I wrote a poem months ago while I was going through my healing process and I would like to dedicate it to you:
Masterpiece
Have you seen her standing in the distance?
The beautiful girl, who stops you in your tracks with her existence?
She looks shy and nervous, but inside she is rowdy and calm.
She looks dark and mysterious, but inside she is ticking like a time bomb.
She keeps the world on their toes.
She is drowning but no one even knows.
She laughs and smiles, so her world keeps going round.
But for your empty cold heart, she’s just a rebound.
She’s been hurt before.
You can tell, but you ignore.
She is intriguing, she is tempting, and she is everything you want and more.
She tries to see the best in the world.
She has no idea she’s about to be hurled.
You befriend her because you want to gain her trust.
But did you forget to tell her your intentions would disgust?
She laughs and giggles and touches your arm.
She wishes in her mind that would have set off an alarm.
You push, you shove, you hit, and you bruise.
You think of yourself as an artist, like she is your muse.
You finish your task and you get up and leave.
She lies there to cry and grieve.
Days pass by and she starts to heal.
Her strength you managed to steal.
She musters up the courage to look in the mirror.
What she sees in her reflection could not be clearer.
She does not see a victim.
For even she is surprised by her dictum.
She sees a survivor,
A beautiful, strong, and growling tiger.
Her scars and bruises set her apart.
She is a living, breathing, work of art;
The definition of perfection.
In her heart, she begins to feel affection.
Like a chandelier as a centerpiece,
She knows she is a masterpiece.
Our paths may never cross and we may never know each other, but on behalf of all other survivors, I want to thank you one last time for the difference you have made in our lives and rape culture. Not only did you manage to make the jury find Brock guilty, but you also manage to make the whole nation see it too. That is not a defeat, it is a triumph! Stay beautiful, stay strong, always remember you are not alone and, no matter what, do not be afraid to use your voice.
Sincerely,
Another Survivor
