NO SEAT FOR YOU AT MY RAPE ADVISORS' TABLE

In the shadows of whispered debates, I found myself amidst a group of men, locked in a sinister discourse, pondering the ghastly question: should rape survivors be compelled to prosecute their tormentors? The unsettling conversations I eavesdropped on always send shivers down my spine. But let's not sugarcoat it - it's not just discomfort that washes over me, it's a searing, uncontrollable fury.

In those initial years following the harrowing event that forever marked my existence, I was subjected to relentless sermons about how I should navigate the aftermath. An insidious pressure gripped me from all sides, as they sought to guilt-trip me into the treacherous terrain of prosecution. Suddenly, my personal nightmare was usurped by their own nightmarish scenarios, liken to the dread of their own mothers being victims. In their minds, I transformed into a mere pawn in their sinister game, a tool destined to safeguard their families. The moment I became a victim, I ceased to be a person in their eyes.

Only the survivors of rape, and their trusted therapists, possess the intimate knowledge of whether they can endure the gruelling trial, emerging with their sanity intact and their hearts still beating. It's the lawyers who wield the power to determine the worthiness of a case. You, a stranger, don't get to dictate a person's behaviour during one of the most agonising moments in their life. Rape is not merely traumatic; it is profoundly personal. The journey from one day to the next can only be shared with someone we wholeheartedly trust.

That person, my friend, is not you. You are a stranger, a passerby on the winding road of our recovery. You don't get a seat at the table of our trusted advisors on the subject of our rape.

There may be lofty ideals surrounding the concept of reporting rape, but comprehending when and why those ideals must be sacrificed for survival and sanity requires walking in our tattered shoes or earning yourself a real qualification. We all share the fervent desire to see our rapists behind bars, for none of us wishes that our tormentors might prey on another soul. The guilt that consumes us when justice eludes us is paralyzing. Know this: when we choose not to bring our rapes to trial, we do so with the same idealism that you harbour. We do not forgo prosecution because we want our rapists to haunt others, but because we have been left with no other recourse.

When you find yourself thrust into the heart of darkness, you must prioritise according to Maslow's Hierarchy of Rape Needs. Survival tops the list. Just above that, one must strive to remain sane. A rape survivor who has lost their grip on normalcy or, worse, succumbed to the cruel clutches of despair cannot possibly endure the rigours of a trial. Some rapes are simply unprosecutable, for a plethora of reasons that only we, the survivors, can fathom.

Some cases are so shrouded in darkness, so stacked against the victim, that embarking on a journey of years-long courtroom battles serves no purpose other than further anguish.

Before all else, a rape survivor must secure their own oxygen mask, or they will be of no use to anyone, not even themselves.

Your primary concern may be, "Get the rapist in prison!" But, regrettably, you seldom contemplate whether the victim can traverse the nightmarish labyrinth of a trial and emerge intact. You rarely speak of the victim as a human being. Your dialogue remains nothing more than a macabre intellectual exercise, a dispassionate thought experiment. You reduce the survivor to an object, a mere tool, fashioned to serve the singular purpose of delivering a criminal into the cold embrace of prison.

What we least need at this juncture is to be dehumanized once more, to be cast aside as mere objects, and that, my dear debaters, is precisely what you are doing. If you wish to discuss our ordeals, do so with a measure of humility, enough to concede that you likely know very little about the labyrinth of our experiences. Mere knowledge of facts and studies does not qualify you as an expert on the intricacies of our suffering.

Beneath the surface, beyond the cold, clinical debates, lies a world of agony and complexity that eludes casual observation. The issue runs deeper than meets the eye.

~ Photuni ~