With the definition of ‘strength’ including ‘being physically strong’ and having the ‘capacity’ to ‘withstand great force or pressure’ this seems to include the two largest references to strength that would come in rape and sexual abuse. The physical strength of the abuser or rapist to commit their actions and the emotional strength of the survivor to overcome this traumatic experience. But we wanted to focus on the strength that is used to not only overcome the trauma, but also to continue with life after doing so…
Should We Disregard Physical Strength in
Rape & Abuse?
All too
frequently, when discussing a rape or a case of sexual abuse the question is
asked “did they not fight back?” or “why didn’t they fight them off?” as though
it’s the survivor’s responsibility to make it stop! And as though having
physical strength and using it – or not using it – determines anything about the
rape and/or abuse or serves as a definition of any survivor of these traumatic
experiences.
It’s
almost a popular misconception that a survivor should be expected to ‘fight
back’ and use their physical strength to stop the rape or abuse in order for
the experience to be taken more seriously because if it took such actions then that
implied that the rape or abuse had been aggressive and more forceful. And if it
had that quality to it then it would fit more with the stereotypical impression,
thoughts, and assumptions made of these experiences and that would make the
entire incident more believable, and the survivor’s actions would be more understandable.
Because who wouldn’t try to fight off someone trying to do these things to
them?!
To
fight someone off seems more easily relatable than a survivor saying, “I didn’t.”
And I think it’s one of those instances where the judgment and misunderstanding
comes from those – or because of those – who try to put themselves
in the position of others – in the position of the survivor and I, personally,
am a huge believer that you never know how you’ll act or react until/unless you’re
in it. So, I never judge a person for their response to whatever it is they go
or are going through; but I do appreciate that sometimes this is a natural
reaction – to consider what you might have done differently. It’s kind of like
in a horror movie when the person is going towards the scary noise, and you’re
sat screaming at the TV “don’t go toward it; run away!” or “why aren’t they ringing
the Police?!” Whether it should be that way or not, it’s almost instinct to make
comparisons to others and seemingly the way someone reacts to a traumatic
experience isn’t safe or in any way exempt from this happening.
Another
aspect to this point around physical strength and its relevance to rape and
sexual abuse, is that often, a basic question is asked (“did they fight back?”)
and there’s no further enquiry or thought into the reasoning and deeper meaning
behind the answer. So, if a survivor is asked if they tried to fight off the rapist
or abuser, and they say “no;” how many people go on to ask “why?” Is it because
they worry that the survivor’s reasons are personal and it’s none of their
business? Was it their business to ask the original question in the first
place? And should the survivor not be given the respect of being asked
questions and having the right and opportunity to decline to answer them? Shouldn’t
they be especially granted the opportunity to give information that – without doing
so – may open up the chance for judgement and incorrect assumptions?
So, for
me (Aimee, Campaign Founder), because of all these judgements and assumptions
surrounding physical strength in rape and abuse, I was ashamed and reluctant to
tell anyone – especially the Police, though – that in the very first instance
of the six months of abuse, I hadn’t managed to fight off my abuser. And that
because of this failure and the fact that me trying to fight back made things
more violent and painful, I didn’t ever try again throughout the following
abusive instances and the one instance of rape. I think that one reason why I
failed was because I was a fifteen-year-old, underweight girl, and he was a
very active and fit man in, I think, his 30’s. I had little chance of winning,
but a motivation for me trying anyway was actually a sense of obligation to do
so. Even in that situation and being unsure at that point whether I’d report
it, I was aware that others would judge me for my reaction or response. And
this, is a thought that a survivor should never have to contend with at any
stage of their experiences.
I think
that an important issue in the question as to disregarding physical strength in
rape and sexual abuse, is the recognition that perhaps from a legal aspect, it’s
a necessary question or aspect of the experience to consider. For some, it
infers the level of consent that’s been given – in my opinion, this is completely
wrong. I mean, on the times when I didn’t fight back – even though I had that
reason that I knew I wouldn’t win – I almost 100% of the time had the thought
in my head of ‘I should be fighting back. I should be struggling.’ It was like
a psychological and emotional argument or battle in my head. And boy, did I not
need any more of those! However, I did hold in my head ‘if I don’t fight back,
they’re going to think I wanted it or that I’ve just let him do this!’ And that’s
another thought I didn’t need! No survivor needs that. It’s like saying, “if it
didn’t traumatise you in some way then it didn’t happen.” You just wouldn’t. So
why do this with physical strength?
Strength For Denial
So, I’m
actually separating this into two bits, and one might be surprising: I’m splitting
this into the strength it takes a survivor to have who is wanting – or feeling
the absolute need and desperation – to deny that the abuse and/or rape happened,
and the other is the strength required when the abuser/rapist denies what they’ve
done. And that second one, is about the strength it takes the survivor to
accept and/or cope with their abuser or rapist making this denial.
First:
the strength needed for the survivor to feel the need – for whatever reason –
to deny it all happened. So, for me, the abuse went on for six months before I felt
that concept of ‘the straw that broke the camel’s back’ and ended up reporting
it. My abuser had called me into this room, and we ended up in an argument – I can’t
remember how it even started; but I definitely remember how it finished! I had
raced from the room, and he was running after me down these stairs and into another
wing of the building when I screamed at him “think of your wife and children!”
Just as I said that his employer – whose Officer was right beside where we were
– came out and clearly having overheard what I’d just said, said “what the hell
gives you the right to speak to him that way?!” And I said “ask him” but when
we both looked to my abuser and he stood there in a stoic silence, I realised
it was time to find the strength in myself and finally, the entire story just
spilled out of me.
As you
may know if you’ve read The Story page
on our website, I was called a ‘manipulative liar’ from my abuser’s employer
and told to wait for my Mum to collect me to leave the building and not return.
Whilst in the reception area, I heard laughing and looked down an adjoining
corridor to see my abuser and his employer shaking hands – and that’s where ‘Shake
My Hand’ came from! But it was from that act and being labelled ‘manipulative’ and
a ‘liar’ that I was silenced for a further two years. And for the entirety of
those two years, I tried to block out the memories. It was like denying they
were real. I don’t know if that necessarily means denying they happened. Just
denying that they were the truth of everything because I knew deep down, they
were already defining my life by being the biggest secret I was holding for all
that time. To keep secret the worst thing that had ever happened to me a secret
for so long? Well, I knew that wasn’t going to be good for me – I mean, at the
time I don’t think I really understood ‘mental health’ because I was so
sheltered and there was really nothing about it in the media at that time (2006/2007),
but I did recognise that I had a mood and safety levels because I had already
self-harmed during the abuse.
During
those two years of blocking things out I tried drinking (yes, underage) and
when my friends would drink with me, you could just tell that they were
drinking for fun because they would only drink until they were drunk! But I
drunk until I passed out and couldn’t’ remember my own name let alone anything
that had happened to me. Then I tried restricting my diet and over-exercising
so that I had something else to really concentrate and focus my attention on. When
that stopped being good enough, I turned to throwing myself into my schoolwork
and studying for my mock-exams; but I’ve never been a good, academic type of
learner – I’m really a kinaesthetic learner and enjoy creativity and not being
sat in a classroom writing essays – though, I think that’s improved a bit through
writing blog posts and doing Therapy ‘homework.’ So, when I continued to not
succeed at my A Levels, I finally made my first suicide attempt and when I
refused to tell a Psychiatrist why, I was sectioned under the 1983 Mental
Health Act.
Everything
eventually came tumbling out of me and the denial stopped in 2009 when I was
sectioned for the second time and admitted to a Psychiatric Intensive Care Unit
(PICU) where I met a woman who told me about her experiences of abuse and how
long she’d been in hospital (years). I found it motivational. I was only 18 at
the time and I knew I didn’t want my life to be like that – in the nicest way
possible! I didn’t want to be in hospital for decades and I didn’t want to end
up covered in all the scars and wounds that she was. So, I blurted it out to
the girl who told the Ward Manager, and then I found myself in a room in a Police
Station giving my video interview where I got the distinct feeling that I was
reliving everything with all the vulgar details I had to go into.
After
my abuser/rapist was arrested and then questioned, I was eventually told that
he’d denied all his actions and failures. I almost couldn’t believe it; but I
really could at the same time – I mean, it had been a huge reason why it’d taken
me so long to report it; I knew him, and I knew he would deny it. I knew it
would take a ton of strength from me to pursue things regardless of his denial,
and I was pretty much 100% convinced that it was strength I didn’t have. But
when I was told by Police that on interviewing his colleagues who were around
both of us at the time, and they made comments varying from “I wondered if that
was happening…” to “I didn’t see it, but I can believe it” – I actually found
some strength. Strength in my frustration. Frustration that: ‘why the hell didn’t
you do something about it?!’ I honestly thought (probably because I didn’t know
them as well – or in the same way – as I did him) that they would deny any
knowledge or suspicions too. So, their admittance and acceptance – in a way –
was hugely empowering in a way that turned me inside out with frustration,
anger, and strength.
In
their comments, I found the strength to take the case as far as I possibly
could and then I used it to start my mental health blog and then to start Shake
My Hand in the hope that I could help other survivors to find their strength –
in whatever way possible – too! Too find some way of encouraging them to also
speak up and to know that no matter the outcome, reporting your experiences is
the right thing to do because without doing so, no one will learn. The abuser
or rapist won’t learn their behaviour is wrong, or they won’t learn that they can’t
just ‘get away with it’ – that there’s repercussions for their actions. In the
same way that we survivors, receive consequences and responsibility for how we
cope with our traumas. Why should they escape that? Why should they be exempt?
Imagine
the mountains we could move if we all pitch together! Imagine the worlds we
could change if we put our strength together and say, in one voice: “we're stronger than you!”