I didn’t tell because I was a child.
I didn’t tell because I was confused.
I didn’t tell because they were adults and I was taught to behave.
So, if you want to judge Christine Blasey Ford, then you want to judge and accuse and blame all of us who had no idea how to deal with pain and trauma and things we knew nothing about because we were children.
As an adult, I say, “How dare you?”
Although circumstances differ the reality is the same and unless you have been in our shoes I challenge you to judge and to understand the thoughts of a confused and disenfranchised child.
Let me ask you this: If you daughter came to you and confessed what Christine confessed what would you say? Would you say, “Boys will be boys” or would you want to rip his throat out of his mouth and drag him through the streets in shame?
Let me guess: If your daughter came to you and said this, you would likely dismiss his behavior as unusual and you would wonder what she did to possibly provoke such odd escapades because that fits more easily into your world order.
As an adult I say, “How dare you?”
To this day, my mother will not address what happened to me. It is a secret that is out in the open, but no one wants to talk about. She forgets the time I told her “I don’t want him to babysit us” and she ignored me and my pleas for safety.
I won’t tell you what happened during that weekend because it haunts me to this day.
She forgets because its inconvenient for her.
But, what is inconvenient for her is earth shattering to me. What is a secret to everyone else is something I live with day in and day out.
I didn’t tell because I thought it was my job to protect everyone (yes, even at age six or seven or eight and I instinctively knew they couldn’t deal with it and I was right because they couldn’t) and despite my pain and my heartache and my distrust I felt it was my fault and that if I was only a better girl or a better child or if I was more lovable this wouldn’t have happened.
So, how dare you judge a young girl who is confused and scared and doesn’t know where to turn?
To this day, we hide and ignore and pretend these things don’t have the impact they have. You have no idea.
When we don’t know what to do we do nothing. We turn pain onto ourselves instead of turning it outward where it belongs.
When I wrote my first post about suicide my mother said, “Oh, I didn’t know”.
I thought to myself, “You didn’t know because you didn’t’ want to know.” You want to tie the world up in a bow and pretend everything is right because that makes life easier. You didn’t know because you kept yourself emotionally isolated and distant which is the exact reason these men were allowed to prey on me.
But, for us, the survivors, it isn’t so easy. We deal with the pain and the dysfunction and the self-blame for years.
Some of us are lucky enough to see our way through the pain and create a better life and a better world, but some of us are not.
For anyone who doubts her story, stop thinking with your head and think with your heart. If it were your child or grandchild or friend or cousin what would you say? Would you excuse his behavior because he was young? Would you blame your child? Would you pretend it never happened like everyone in my family?
To this day I crave nothing more than to be heard and understood. It was bad enough that they stole my innocence, but it is 10 times worse when people put you in a box, and pretend your pain is irrelevant.
How dare you.