โI donโt understand why women donโt just report it if it really happened.โ
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 didnโt scream louder. He replayed my police interview and pointed out every time I hesitated, every time I cried, every time my timeline wasnโt perfectly linear. โIf it was traumatic,โ he said, โwhy canโt she remember clearly?โ
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.
Thatโs why some women donโt report. Because even with bruises. Even with screenshots. Even when you do everything โright.โ You still have to survive the assault twice, once in private, and once in public, just to maybe be believed.
Men wonโt agree to a male babysitter for their daughters. Theyโll get defensive if they see a grown man standing too close to their teenage child. They become anxious when their daughters are out late.
Yet when women speak about patterns of male harm, the response is, โNot all men.โ