Friday, June 10, 2016

Is This my Fault?

I filled out a police report once. A mother had come to the youth center looking for her kid and when she could find them she punched me in the eye and was chocking me  against a van before I realized what was happening. My arms were at my sides, useless. I just never expected anyone to act like that.

And so she was pulled off and walked away and the police were called and I had to file a report. I didn't press charges because I had seen her kids and didn't want worse to happen to them. But filling out the report was hard. My black eye was looking around the room for places to hide.
The policemen were kind. I've been raised all my life to know they help keep us safe- but I didn't feel safe; somehow, in reporting the events, listing my name and information- I felt like it was my fault. I was the victim here, and yet I carried the guilt.
When the perpetrator isn't there to take responsibility, or refuses responsibility, it makes the innocent party question, "Is this my fault?" Worse yet, it often makes those around them wonder.
I can only imagine what the pain would be like for a rape victim, and that is just in filling out reports- the first step of a humiliating road. My heart goes out to that woman (in the Brock Turner case), and all other rape victims. I wish I could add here all of my suggestions of how to make it better- but I don't even know how to yet. I feel helpless against a culture of "boys will be boys" and "20 minutes of action."
I am so grateful to have been raised by parents to taught me I could be anything ("But please be the one thing God wants you to be."), to have been surrounded by a community that encouraged me every step, and to have a husband that cannot imagine life without me next to him, as his equal and partner. I cannot remember one time where I felt victimized or held back because I was a woman.
I pray this will be the story of my daughter, and of every other girl/woman I know. And I will work to see this happen.

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