No silence
Aug. 4th, 2004 04:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
louiseluxNo Pity. No Shame. No Silence.
Each person to post on this subject has been incredibly brave to do so and I wish that the things they've posted about had never happened. But my wishes don't mean anything, because they have happened and I imagine that the people who did them are mostly still at large. Silence lets things stay the same - nothing will change if we never speak about these things. From reading other people's stories I know I was 'lucky' - what happened to me was very mild in comparison, but it affected me for a long time - it still does, I suppose. It took me a long time to decide to write this.
I was twelve and walking home from school through the park, weighed down with my PE kit and cookery basket. I remember that I had on a new pink winter coat and was worried that it was already too small. A man approached along the path with a dog. He said hello - I was polite and said hello back, then he fell in beside me and began asking me if I had a boyfriend, things like that. I was confused, then wary. After a bit of this and me ignoring him, he walked off, then turned round and to my disbelief he unzipped his fly to reveal a very ugly looking erection. It sort of bounced around in a ridiculous way. What happened next is a bit blurred in my memory, but he somehow got the dog's lead tangled round my feet and his hand down my blouse before I managed to make him let go by biting his fingers. We fought for maybe a minute at most, before he backed off.
I didn't tell anyone and I was ashamed. I don't remember being scared at the time, but afterwards I must have been in shock. I remember going home, staring at the TV and thinking that I couldn't possibly tell anyone. Why did I think that? I was embarrassed, I suppose. Maybe I thought it was my fault. When I bit him he let go and shouted at me not to tell anyone - it was our secret. It was disgusting, almost as though we had some kind of pact. I didn't tell though. He's probably walking around somewhere right now.
I finally told someone 10 years later - my boyfriend of the time, when he told me that a friend of his had been raped and was too scared to tell anyone. He was utterly dismayed and wondered if every woman he knew had a story like this. I sincerely hope not, but who can tell, if we don't speak up? I don't think of myself as victim or a survivor or as someone who needs pity - I certainly don't. But I bitterly regret not telling anyone about this man. Why should a child feel that she couldn't even tell her mother about something as serious as this? That's wrong.
Each person to post on this subject has been incredibly brave to do so and I wish that the things they've posted about had never happened. But my wishes don't mean anything, because they have happened and I imagine that the people who did them are mostly still at large. Silence lets things stay the same - nothing will change if we never speak about these things. From reading other people's stories I know I was 'lucky' - what happened to me was very mild in comparison, but it affected me for a long time - it still does, I suppose. It took me a long time to decide to write this.
I was twelve and walking home from school through the park, weighed down with my PE kit and cookery basket. I remember that I had on a new pink winter coat and was worried that it was already too small. A man approached along the path with a dog. He said hello - I was polite and said hello back, then he fell in beside me and began asking me if I had a boyfriend, things like that. I was confused, then wary. After a bit of this and me ignoring him, he walked off, then turned round and to my disbelief he unzipped his fly to reveal a very ugly looking erection. It sort of bounced around in a ridiculous way. What happened next is a bit blurred in my memory, but he somehow got the dog's lead tangled round my feet and his hand down my blouse before I managed to make him let go by biting his fingers. We fought for maybe a minute at most, before he backed off.
I didn't tell anyone and I was ashamed. I don't remember being scared at the time, but afterwards I must have been in shock. I remember going home, staring at the TV and thinking that I couldn't possibly tell anyone. Why did I think that? I was embarrassed, I suppose. Maybe I thought it was my fault. When I bit him he let go and shouted at me not to tell anyone - it was our secret. It was disgusting, almost as though we had some kind of pact. I didn't tell though. He's probably walking around somewhere right now.
I finally told someone 10 years later - my boyfriend of the time, when he told me that a friend of his had been raped and was too scared to tell anyone. He was utterly dismayed and wondered if every woman he knew had a story like this. I sincerely hope not, but who can tell, if we don't speak up? I don't think of myself as victim or a survivor or as someone who needs pity - I certainly don't. But I bitterly regret not telling anyone about this man. Why should a child feel that she couldn't even tell her mother about something as serious as this? That's wrong.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2004-08-05 02:34 am (UTC)I keep asking myself why I felt I could't say anything - it certainly wasn't though a lack of care or love on my mum's part. It was partly embarrassment, I think, and partly just not knowing what on earth I should say. I think all you can do as a parent is to do exactly as you say - just keep on telling them that they can say *anything* to you. It's sad that parents have to tell their kids about stuff like this, but its far, far better that they know and that they know to be aware and to be careful of themselves.