My social media feed is inundated. “Me too, Me too, Me too” resonates silently through the pixels, a haunting melody sung by both cherished friends and strangers alike. The consistent theme is jarring: “I have had my body, my identity, my very essence violated simply because I am a woman.” The sheer number is disturbing; even one instance is too many. Yet, perhaps this flood of voices will shine a light on the widespread nature of this issue.
I didn’t add my voice to the “Me Too” chorus. I couldn’t. At 42, I’ve never experienced sexual assault, abuse, or even harassment. Sure, I’ve encountered inappropriate jokes and comments, but nothing has been aimed at me directly.
The fact that I’ve escaped such violations isn’t due to any specific actions on my part. I’ve found myself in situations where a man could have easily overstepped boundaries, yet every man I’ve been alone with has respected my limits. Each time intimacy was on the table, they stopped when I indicated discomfort.
I’ve never felt the confusion, fear, or shame that my friends who have been assaulted have endured. I’ve never had my humanity stripped away in such a brutal manner. Do you know what thoughts cross my mind about my relatively unscathed life?
Lucky. Relieved. Grateful.
Let that sink in for a moment.
I shouldn’t feel fortunate for never having experienced violations of my body, as if I’ve won some kind of twisted lottery. I shouldn’t have to feel relief for not being raped, as though I’ve dodged a bullet in a grim game of roulette. I shouldn’t feel thankful that the men I’ve interacted with have been respectful; that should be the bare minimum.
And yet, here I am, feeling fortunate that I’ve navigated four decades without someone using sex as a weapon against me.
This is the reality for women in our society. Since my earliest memories, I have kept my bodily safety in mind. Each time I’ve been alone with a man I didn’t fully trust, I’ve wondered, “What if he tries to assault me?” I’ve devised escape plans while pretending to enjoy dinner or while watching a movie.
Being a woman alone means being constantly alert. Every time I take a walk, leave a store, or get into my car after dark, I’m on guard. I once asked my partner if he ever considers the possibility of being assaulted while running alone. The look of confusion on his face said it all. Mugged? Maybe. Assaulted? Never. Do you know any men who carry “rape whistles?” I don’t.
Of course, men can be victims too, and that’s never acceptable. But let’s face it: most men don’t live in fear of their bodies being violated. Most women, including myself, do. We carry the weight of that unspoken anxiety about what could happen to us without our consent. It’s not always at the forefront, but it’s never far from our thoughts.
We all know women who have been assaulted. Those of us who have escaped so far have comforted those who haven’t, feeling a mix of horror and gratitude that we haven’t shared their fate.
That’s why I stand with women who bravely share their stories, regardless of how long it takes. I support those who choose not to share, as they have that right, yet live with their experiences daily. I raise my voice alongside those advocating for better laws and justice regarding sexual assault and harassment. I refuse to remain silent about rape culture, even though I haven’t been a direct victim.
Because I feel grateful that I’ve never been violated. Because I still fear it could happen. Because this is what rape culture looks like, even for the lucky ones.
For more insights, check out our other posts, such as this one on intracervicalinsemination.com, which provides valuable information. If you’re considering home insemination, Make a Mom offers an excellent resource for selecting the right kit. Additionally, Kindbody is a fantastic source for understanding pregnancy and home insemination.
Summary
This piece reflects on the experience of navigating life as a woman in a society steeped in rape culture. It highlights the unfortunate reality many women face—living in constant awareness of bodily safety and the fear of violation. The author, who has never personally faced such trauma, expresses feelings of relief and gratitude for her circumstances while emphasizing the importance of standing in solidarity with those who have experienced assault.