“I don’t understand why women don’t just report it if it really happened.”
When I was 19, I reported mine. I had bruises. Hospital photos. Text messages of him apologizing the next morning. My friends drove me to the station because I could barely stop shaking. I thought evidence would make it simple. I thought truth would be enough.
Months later, I was the one on trial. His lawyer printed my Instagram photos and held them up in court. Asked why I wore crop tops. Asked why I drank that night. Asked why I didn’t scream louder. He replayed my police interview and pointed out every time I hesitated, every time I cried, every time my timeline wasn’t perfectly linear. “If it was traumatic,” he said, “why can’t she remember clearly?”
Sitting there while strangers debated my pain like it was a group project felt like being stripped again. My messages were projected on a screen. My body was described in detail. My character was picked apart like that was the real crime.
He walked out on bail. I walked out with panic attacks.
That’s why some women don’t report. Because even with bruises. Even with screenshots. Even when you do everything “right.” You still have to survive the assault twice, once in private, and once in public, just to maybe be believed.
So!
It wasn’t a democrat.
It wasn’t an illegal immigrant.
It wasn’t an LGBTQ person.
It wasn’t an African American.
It wasn’t anyone he said is poisoning the blood of Americans.
He was white young and a registered republican.
Republicans say they’re “pro-life”.
It is not “pro-life” to force a 10 year old to carry her rapist’s baby to term.
It is not “pro-life” to let a starving child go without free lunch.
It is not “pro-life” to allow a doctor to refuse life saving medical care because of their moral beliefs.
It is not “pro-life” to consider the death penalty for anyone who has or performs an abortion or to let a woman miscarrying nearly die from sepsis before allowing treatment.
It is not “pro-life” to say that school shootings, mall shootings, shootings at the movies and at town parades are the ‘price we pay for freedom’.
The truth is this:
Republicans are pro-forced birth.
After that, you’re on your own.
As a parent I’m not worried that my 9 and 13 year olds are going to be “indoctrinated” with “wokeness” at school.
I’m not worried that they’re going to ‘feel guilty about their whiteness’ because they’re learning accurate history.
I’m not worried that they’re going to be “groomed” to become furries and to make their pees pees in litter boxes.
Those things aren’t real.
Wanna know what is real?
My worry that they’re going to get shot. That someone with an AR-15 is going to go into their school and shoot them.
So, while the same gun fetishizing, AR-15 lapel pin wearing, locked and loaded family Christmas card posing Republicans fear monger & manufacture crises under the guise of “parents rights”, I say this:
It is my right as a parent to send my kids to school without worrying that they will get shot.
It ain’t the drag queens, the African American history, the books with two moms or two seahorse dads which threaten our kids.
It’s the fucking guns.
yes sex is cool but have you ever read a book and spent days reading it and when u finish it u get this weird sad melancholic ache in ur heart and don't know what to do w your life now that its over and u wish u could read it for the first time again cus u loved it that much
I really wish people would stop drastically using the scenarios of rape or incest as the sole premise for an abortion. A woman doesn’t have to be in a traumatic situation for it to be reason enough. In fact there is zero explanation that needs to be given.
Today, the Supreme Court not only reversed nearly 50 years of precedent, it relegated the most intensely personal decision someone can make to the whims of politicians and ideologues—attacking the essential freedoms of millions of Americans.
If you don’t know a handful of women who’ve had an abortion, you’re not morally righteous or statistically anomalous; you’re just not the kind of person women trust with their secrets.