Why was she there?
Why did she drink in the first place?
Why did she go with him?
Why didn't she leave?
Why didn't she fight?
Why didn't she scream?
Why did she freeze?
Why did she wait to tell someone?
Why wasn't her stillness enough to make him stop?
Why does intoxication become evidence against her judgment while somehow excusing his?
I cannot tell you what happened in that dorm room, that back seat or that dark corner. Some become headlines, others are wiped from history, except in the memory of one. I cannot tell you because I wasn't there.
But I have been.
And that is how I know that silence isn't consent. Freezing isn't consent. Confusion isn't consent. Unconsciousness isn't consent.
Dissociation is real. And silence might just be survival.
Sometimes she doesn't tell because she already knows the questions that are coming. She knows people will examine where she went, what she drank, what she wore, what she said and everything she didn't say. She knows she may be asked to explain her behavior before anyone asks him to explain his.
How do we change this?
Instead of asking why she didn't fight, ask why he continued when she didn't participate.
Instead of asking why she drank so much, ask why her intoxication wasn't a reason to stop.
And if the words “taking turns” enter the story, our questions shouldn't begin with her at all.
In addition to teaching our daughters all the ways they must protect themselves from sexual assault, let's teach our sons that access to another person's body is never something to assume.
