The statistics are stark: 1 in 5 women will experience sexual assault at some point in their lives. For a while, this knowledge provided a sense of solidarity—I was not alone in my trauma. But now, I can’t shake the thought of what this means for my daughter. She faces a 20% chance of being sexually assaulted, and the desire to shield her from harm is overwhelming. Yet, I know that absolute protection is impossible.
I could attempt to arm her with a list of precautions. Here’s what I might say:
- Don’t trust anyone.
- Always be on high alert.
- Avoid dating and intimacy.
- Live in isolation.
- Drink only when you’re alone.
- Never share personal details online—better yet, avoid the internet altogether.
- Cover up completely.
- Swim in oversized clothing.
- Don’t wear your hair up; in fact, consider shaving it all off.
- Don’t venture outside without company.
- Surround yourself with people you don’t fully trust.
- Remember, anyone could be dangerous.
- Just stay locked up at home, forever.
Perhaps if I shared these warnings, she might heed my advice and evade assault. But in doing so, she would also miss out on love, joy, and connection. She’d be a ghost, unable to embrace life. She wouldn’t feel the warmth of the sun or the thrill of friendship. Her existence would be hollow.
On the other hand, regardless of my warnings, she might still fall victim to violence. She could choose to embrace life and attend gatherings, enjoying moments with friends. A betrayal could shatter her trust. She might find herself in a situation where her consent is disregarded. If that happens, she could internalize my cautions and wrongly blame herself. She’d think, “If only I had stayed home,” or “I shouldn’t have let my guard down.” She may feel shame because of her choices, believing she could have prevented the assault. This silence would haunt her, robbing her of joy and peace. The fear could consume her, preventing her from truly living.
But I want her to thrive.
Instead of a litany of avoidances, I’ll tell her this: Your body belongs to you. Consent is vital. A clear “yes” is the only way to agree, and silence is not consent. Trust yourself and others. Embrace vulnerability. Remember, if someone harms you, it is never your fault. And, importantly, don’t become a perpetrator. Live boldly. Explore the world. Make new friends. Surround yourself with people you genuinely trust. When the time comes, enjoy dating, drinking, and all the experiences that make life rich.
Yes, life carries risks—assault, violence, or toxic relationships—but none of it is her fault.
I wish I could keep her safe, but a fulfilling life entails some danger.
If you’re seeking more information on family planning, consider checking out this resource for useful insights. For those interested in home insemination, this site offers excellent products. Additionally, for a deeper understanding of fertility options, Hopkins Medicine is a fantastic resource.
In summary, while I cannot protect my daughter from the world’s dangers, I can empower her to navigate life with strength and resilience.