I know the internet and WordPress in particular is full of perspective about the Brock Turner case. I have been holding back on comment but I’ve decided to document my own feelings. It’s a complete lie if I said I wasn’t affected.
The thing that has impressed me the most is the support for the victim.
For me, I can indetify with the situation. White, middle class male. Regarded amongst his peers. And the unknown female, the one so deeply affected by his actions. The justification by his father and the leniency by the authorities.
The person that raped me was a middle class white male. Powerful and connected. I’m sure there was some doubt because he was attractive, intelligent, well liked.
But that’s not what I saw. I only saw anger, control, violence that night. I saw dead, cold eyes and a side to him that scared me. A sense of entitlement.
I was young, he was older. He scared me. I didn’t know anything about sex or rape. All I know was the pain I felt, the confusion of shame and uncertainty. The sense of loss over my body.
I took directives from a ‘friend’ about my healthcare and preventing pregnancy. Things that I knew nothing about. I felt like the entire world had changed and yet everything remained the same. I felt lost, lonely, scared, but I couldn’t articulate those feelings. I didn’t understand it. I wasn’t able to ‘label’ what had been done to me. Even though physically I hurt, emotionally I felt void and yet terrified.
I needed care and support, but it wasn’t available to me. I suspect ‘he’ saw nothing wrong. Able to justify his actions, get support from peers. I mean, who wouldn’t go willingly with him?
I’m angry about the judge and his father [Brock Turner] yet I’m not surprised. My own experience with the legal system much the same. Trying to get that burden of proof.
20 years on, I still have nightmares. I feel let down by the justice system, the police. I feel betrayed by witnesses, and bitterly disappointed with my parents own lack of caring.
Money talks. Family talks.
How could he be a rapist??
My ripped underwear, the excruciating pain, all means nothing. I was made to feel like a nothing.
The case sickens me. But I take comfort from the victims strength in her statement. I take comfort from the support she’s received.
It’s not always a stranger in a dark alley. It can be a smart guy, in a friends house. An opportunist out on the take.
People talking about this case creates knowledge and understanding. I just wish I’d been able to get that far.
He has brutally taken my virginity. My first time was ugly, demeaning, painful. It remains a constant part of my life.
The justice system was a joke. It made me feel bad and more ashamed.
I hate him. I hate Brock Turner as well. They are both the same. Predators and yet able to distance themselves from their actions.
I’m full of loathing but also for myself. I hate how my body felt different from that night. I hate how my self confidence was shot to pieces.
I’m angry that it’s followed me. Through later relationships and my marriage.
How does a woman ever repair from the damage? Forever tarnished. Forever defective.