Last night I watched Dr. Christine Blasey Ford- the woman who alleges Brett Kavanaugh sexually assaulted her -give her testimony at a Senate hearing. But, this article will not reference anything regarding the showdown currently being had between the two.
Instead, what I want to address is the ignorant-argument many individuals still take the time to entertain: that a woman not promptly coming forward about being assaulted follows that she wasn't.
I say ignorant because the people who make this argument are generally people who have never themselves been assaulted and as I see it, have no business speaking to the rationale of a person who has.
When I was a freshman in high school I was both physically and sexually assaulted. At the time I was 14 years old; I was young, naive, confused, and worst of all, traumatized. I did not tell my family the whole truth of what had happened to me until 8 years after the fact, and I still haven't told most of my friends.
I wish I was brave and bold enough to write, and share, what happened to me with the world. Yet, truthfully, it was not that long ago that I began telling my family and friends; it wasn't that long ago that I looked myself in the mirror and accepted that it had happened.
To be clear: it took over eight years for me to piece together what happened to me.
And if we're being honest, I never planned on revisiting that phase of my life - I figured the memories would eventually dissipate and I'd move on. Yet, for whatever reason, when I turned 21 my brain decided to begin reliving what happened to me when I was 14 - every, single, night.
The anxious thoughts and lack of sleep were in turn affecting my health. And after doing some reading, I decided that I needed help from my support system to get through it all.
I knew it would make me feel better to talk, especially with friends and family, but I couldn't find the courage to confide in almost anyone.
All I could think to myself was: why aren't you over this? Everyone has problems. A lot of people go through some kind of trauma - just let this go.
Finally, one day while I was driving home from work, I decided to tell my dad.
Just to paint the picture for you, my dad is a 65-year-old, extremely traditional, Middle Eastern man. Growing up, he'd lose his mind if I wore a skirt that didn't brush past my knees - and hence having to make myself vulnerable to his judgment nearly broke me.
After beating around the bush for about twenty minutes, I finally told him the whole story. He knew some parts. But on that day, for the first time in eight years, he learned about a series of events that had been haunting his daughter.
He was extremely angry, and it broke my heart that he was. Hell, I am still mad. Yet, our anger was directed towards entirely different things.
My dad was upset about my eight years of silence. He really struggled understanding why I would ever keep these details to myself. He even blamed me for leaving my perpetrator in the streets, free to strike again.
There's nothing we can do now - was the sort of attitude he held.
At the end of the conversation, I started wishing I never told him - or anyone for that matter.
Do you have any idea how much better things could have turned out for me, how much safer I would have felt, should I have had the courage to tell my parents what had happened?
My mom is a counselor with a masters in psychology; my dad has always had an open door policy with me. Yet, I still could not surmount the courage to tell a single soul.
I was 14 years old, a sensitive point in my development. After it happened, I went into survival mode. I distanced myself from everyone I knew and wanted to be far, far away from it all.
To be honest, I could not with full confidence give an explanation of why it took me so long to build the courage to tell people about it. All I can say is I was incapable at that time.
A couple days ago my dad called me to talk about the floating news about Kavanaugh. He told me that while he was at lunch with some of his co-workers, a debate broke out about whether or not Dr. Ford is telling the truth.
He told me that many of his co-workers were scrutinizing her decision to wait before sharing her story. They argued the infamous ignorant-argument: there was no way she actually was sexually assaulted if she waited so many years to talk.
My heart was pounding as I could only imagine what my dad was going to say next.
Yet, my dad let me know, he told his co-workers that he entirely disagrees. He told them that especially when girls are young it is not easy to talk about an event as traumatizing as sexual assault. And that, even if Dr. Ford's allegation is faulty, the reason they are has nothing to do with her choosing to wait.
Tears started flooding out of my eyes, immediately.
Did my dad just disprove the saying, old dogs can't learn new tricks?
He told me that having a daughter has taught him a lot - and hearing my story taught him even more.
Despite the anger my dad first made me feel when I disclosed my story to him, it made me overwhelmingly happy to know that he had stood up to them, as I refer to it, ignorant-argument.
** To be clear, being ignorant about what a person experiences upon being sexually assaulted does not justify nor excuse making the ignorant-argument.
