My reaction to the "FYI (if you are a Teenage Girl)

I am so nauseated right now.  I was shown this tonight.  Go ahead.  Read it and then come back.  Be sure to notice that there are two sets of Pictures.

Go on, I'll wait.

Ok, now I then saw this.

Here's why I am shaking and angry at the first "FYI".  Why does everyone assume because you have a vagina, you are useless?  Why does a girl with confidence scare people?  Why do we blame the victim?  In Case, after Case, after CASE we make it out to be Boys will be Boys, and the girls were just asking for it.

As someone who, firstly, has a daughter who I want to grow up to be smart and confident and self-assured, and secondly, who was sexually assaulted, it insults me.

Yep, Cat's outta the bag.  I was raped.  I was a fat teenage girl, who went to a party, wearing a t shirt under a pair of painters bib overalls and I had on a large oversized sweater over the works.  I was not "dressed like a slut" or "asking for it".  I did have a few drinks, and I was in no condition to give concent.  In fact, before, during and after the act, I was crying and saying NO.  Repeatedly. I did get quiet for a bit in the middle and just sobbed for a while.  All I could picture in my head, was Jason.  The boy that I had wanted to lose my virginity to for as long as I knew what sex was.  He was my on again, off again boy friend. That is boy - Space - Friend.  He was my guy BFF. We were never a full blown item, but he was the one that I had always imagined I would end up with.  I kept thinking, "I will never be with Jason if he finds out about this..."

My rapist continued until he finished.

I was devastated.




The following day, he bragged about it to friends.  Made me out to be a champ.  The things I did were amazing.  I was pegged a slut.  Everyone knew about it.  My two sisters sure knew about it.  They called me a slut.  My own family.  Against me.  Yay for small towns where gossip = the truth.

I only ever told four people (before this confession).

1. One of my sisters.  She was getting married, and my Rapist was going to be in her wedding party.  I told her, so she could convince her Husband-to-be to remove the rapist from the event.  I don't know what she said to her husband, but the rapist didn't even get an invite, I don't think... 
2. My Friend Becky.  She was a major support as I worked through the guilt and remorse from all of the after-effects of the assault. 
3. The man who was to become my husband.  I told him and watched as he suppressed the rage and desire to go out and find my rapist, so he could be killed. 
4. My Aunt.  At my Hometown centennial party, she came up to the bar at the caberet with him by her side. When he left, I was enraged that she was friendly to him, and of course, she had no idea why.  I told her the cliff notes version and then ended it with, "but I'm over it".  I thought I was, really I did, but when the words came out of my mouth, I knew it was a lie. 

So , back to why it is important to tell girls that they must cover up, to protect the poor, defenseless boys from being forced to rape you.  FUCK OFF!

It's not short skirts, or alcohol, or slutty girls that cause rape.  It MOTHERFUCKING RAPISTS THAT CAUSE RAPE!

I sincerly hope that if you have a son, you are teaching him to respect girls, as much as I am teaching my daughter to respect all HUMANS.

It took me a long time to realize I was not ruined.  That I was still worthy of love.  That even if my first time was NOTHING like I had spent hours planning and imagining and dreaming of, I was still deserving of having that experience.

"did you know that you are still lovely?  Did you know that you are still wonderful?  Did you know that you are filled with amazing qualities, amazing capabilities, amazing talents?  Did you know that life is full of choices, lessons, love, heartbreak, and adventures…and that all of those are yours to experience."  

I did not know that then, and I wish every day for a goddamed time machine, so I can tell myself that I am not royally fucked, and I will be ok.  I had a really fucked up lesson that night.....and that is ok.  What is not ok, is telling me, or any girl, that WE need to watch OURSELVES because if we don't, any boy could turn all rapey, and THAT is our fault.

So to you, Mrs. Hall, you judgey lady, where is your stone to be throwing?  If you are ready to start flinging stones at all the girls who want to be friends with your sons, you had better not be living in a glass house.  Us girls are fucking tough, and we will be catching those stones and throwing them back at you!