TRIGGER WARNING: SEXUAL ABUSE

I have written before about my date rape experience, and why I support rape crisis centers.  I’m pretty much an open book when it comes to all that.  I don’t mind talking about it because I’ve worked very hard to heal the damage done, and because my voice might mean the difference between hurt and health for another person. I also don’t mind talking about it because Raped is not who I am. Rape is only something that has happened to me. Lots of things have happened to me, and believe me, 90% of those things eclipse that one night.

I’ve tried to write this post about six times now. I’ve been very long-winded. I’ve been very brief. I’ve been gentle and I’ve been strident. And, I’ve had to admit that as much growing and healing as I have done, I’ve still got some to do.  I’m trying it one last time.

You see, a couple of months ago, a man came into my office and sat down at my desk. It wasn’t too long before I realized that the reason he looked so familiar is because the last time I saw him, he was laughing about how he had just forced himself on me. Twenty-four years had added brawn and gut, and his hairline had receded like low tide, but it was him. The only thing separating me from the adult version of the teenager who had done so much damage was about three feet and a hundred hours of therapy.

My panic default is Charm School politeness*, so once I was assured he hadn’t made the connection to me, I switched into Stepford mode, got through the encounter as swiftly as possible, then ran into the bathroom to hide until my heart quit pounding. I texted a most trusted ladyfriend, and called on my cyber-posse, who all made me feel better with a lullabye of what kinds of terrible things could be done to him.

Then, I pulled myself together and went back to work because . . . what else was I going to do? I couldn’t very well hide in the bathroom for the rest of my career.

I went home and told my husband, then spent a few days worrying, but decided to deal with it the way I had the first time. Quietly. I called our employee assistance hotline and I asked for some advice. They were mostly concerned with getting me to a rape crisis line, so I had to explain repeatedly that the incident was a quarter of a century gone by–that I have coworkers who weren’t even born when it happened – and that I just needed an idea of what I could do to avoid future contact. They weren’t really equipped to advise me on that.

Who is? I mean, the guy didn’t recognize me. I never pressed charges. It isn’t like he’s a convicted felon, or I have any reason to request him being barred from our office.

I waited another couple of days, and I told my manager, asking for confidentiality. I didn’t want my coworkers to know. I didn’t want to have to explain it all again. There’s the kicker.

While I don’t mind talking about what happened to me in the context of: This terrible thing happened once, and I overcame it. I totally hate talking about in the context of: This terrible thing happened, and this is making me feel vulnerable again, and I am afraid – not of him, because Lord knows I am a different woman today and I would not hesitate to take off an ear, gouge out an eye, and remove his favorite part – but of how seeing him dredges up all the old panic, hurt, and reminds me of how helpless and weak I was. I do not like looking weak.

So, I tried to laugh about it. I tried to make it seem like it was nothing. Whistling in the graveyard. Lalala. No big deal, just FYI, you know?

Last week, he came in again, and he came to my desk with another request, and this time he called me by my name. My name is not on my desk, and I was not wearing my badge, and there is no way he would have known my name other than having been previously introduced. After I concluded the business by passing him off to my manager, he came back to my desk, called me by my name again, thanked me profusely, and left. It was a good ten minutes before I realized he had recognized who I was.

This time, I didn’t run to the bathroom. Instead, I rounded up my coworkers and I told them who he was, and why I wanted help avoiding him. And I accepted the hugs, and the hand holding, and took my sympathy lumps because these are good people who care about me, and who hate that someone hurt me, so my pride has no place between them and me.

But it is embarrassing! And I think that’s something people don’t understand. You get raped, and you are embarrassed by all the accoutrements of the violation. When you say the word rape, you are including a whole list of words you don’t normally share with people, and you expose yourself in a way that comes with more baggage than a celebutante on vacation.

The great news is that a transfer has come through for me, so I won’t be at that office much longer, and while I am there, my coworkers are watching out for me.

What’s kind of funny is that for the past several weeks, I’ve been dealing with depression and some serious self-esteem issues (all while I was at Listen to Your Mother and should have felt like a rock star!) and I couldn’t pinpoint why. Him coming back into the office put a fine point on it, and it hit me tonight that it was just all the old stuff coming up again.

Back to work on myself for me, it seems.

Still, I faced him and it didn’t break me. That’s huge. I’m not broken. I am strong.  And I’m still me.

*Charm School polite only comes out when I feel threatened personally. When it’s my family being threatened, I turn into this Tasmanian devil of Alabama ugly.

Head to the Bedroom

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The post 24 Years, 3 Feet, and 100 Hours of Therapy first appeared on BonBon Break.

“No, mom, you didn’t forget,” I said. “I never told you. I never told anyone. It was repressed so deeply that I filed it all the way in the back of my mind, where I couldn’t find it, until something triggered my memory; I just pretended it never happened.”

“I’m so sorry. I wish you had reported him.” A string of Italian obscenities followed.

“You know, I’m not sorry I didn’t report him,” I said. “It was my word against his, and there were no witnesses. He was in my circle of friends, and almost no one would believe that I didn’t go into it consensually. Everyone would think I had regrets and was making it up. You know it as well as I do, mom. I would have been dragged through the mud, even if I had gone to the police.”

The look in her eyes was sad, but resigned.

“I know,” she said. There was no other answer.

Culture had taught me that silence was my only option. This incident, which happened my freshman year in college, set me up for 15 years of silence through an unhealthy and abusive relationship and later, through a series of inter-office harassment.

At 30, I was working for a company run by good old boys in the deep South. I enjoyed my work, I liked and respected my manager, my director, and the co-workers in my department.

The annual conference was a splashy affair at a large conference hotel, to which the entire national sales team was invited. Just six months into the job, I was enthusiastic and naturally friendly, I had made many new friends, and I had made it clear that I was a newlywed and unavailable.
On evening number two of the conference, with an outpouring of alcohol readily available and tongues loosened, a fiftyish regional vice president who had been helpful and welcoming to me approached me. I was wearing a full-coverage pants suit and smiling, and was taken off guard when he leaned in and rasped into my ear, “Hey… why don’t you come up to my room for a nice bubble bath and massage?”

“I – I – I don’t think that is a good idea,” I fumbled, and turned away, walking to the other side of the room on unsteady legs. When I turned around, he was watching me.

The next week, my director called me into his office to see how my first national conference went.

“Great,” I told him. “I really enjoyed meeting everyone, and I love the work.”

Hesitating for a moment, I told him that there was just one thing that was kind of strange, and I mentioned the RVP’s comment.

His face fell, ashen.

Within an hour, I was called to the senior vice president of Human Resources’ office. Arriving at her office, she motioned me to sit across from her at her massive desk, and reviewed the situation with me. She insisted that I give her his name. I stalled. This is not how I wanted to begin my career with this company, as a whistleblower. At first, I said no.

“I don’t want to make a big deal out of this,” I told her. “I just thought it was strange and I mentioned it to John.”

“You have to tell me, Kristin,” she said, looking at me with intense blue eyes. “It is your absolute duty to tell me, for the sake of other women in the company.”

She convinced me that it was my responsibility. That I would be helping other women. After a lot of prodding, I gave her his name.

Her face froze in shock. Apparently, it was not someone she expected.

Recovering, her face implacable, she assured me that (no one would ever find out). I returned to my office and tried to put the conversation behind me.

It wasn’t long before I ran into the transgressing regional vice president – let’s call him Jay – at another event in Atlanta, and he pulled me aside at another event. I was terrified.

“Sorry if I offended you,” he said with a sneer.

Humiliated, I retreated. I never reported anything else for the three and a half years I worked for the company, although I saw plenty.

Later, other people in the company would mention the “Jay Incident” to me. The issue that was never supposed to get around, clearly did. Jay was well-liked and I was seen as the new girl who reported him and sullied his reputation. Unfortunately, he wasn’t the only one.

There was the other executive vice president who slid his key to me at the next conference and said, “Come to my room for the most fun you’ve ever had.” And the other senior VP who propositioned me on a regular basis in front of other executives.

When one particularly persistent senior VP said, “Kristin, you’re coming back to my room tonight, aren’t you?” at a conference in front of a large group of people that it I finally got it: the culture of misogyny was so ingrained that I was merely collateral damage. Someone – male or female – could have said, “Hey, you’re being a jerk. Knock it off,” but no one did.

Eventually, I left for another company. I had accepted the culture for so long that I had started to believe that it was inevitable.

It’s not.

From these experiences, I know how difficult it is for a woman to report any kind of bad behavior. They often don’t. Why? Because it’s humiliating. The burden of proof is on the accuser, and the risk is high. For anyone tempted to dismiss a claim of harassment, or even rape, consider this: no one wants to go through the shame of questioning, doubting, and character assessing.

The shame is powerful and it covers us like a shroud, smothering our spirit with it. Those with means are shielded by lawyers and organizations that want to keep the public out of it, so they settle quickly – or engage in a smear campaign against the victim. But let me be clear: Speaking up is incredibly brave.

I know what it’s like to stay quiet. It’s the choice I made, and I believe it cost me a lot to keep it to myself. Maybe I could have avoided the crushing guilt, plummeting self-esteem, and an eating disorder. Maybe reporting that incident could have changed my life.

I want you to know, if you have walked in my shoes: I believe you. When you are scared and confused and you don’t know what to do, know that there are other women who have been there too. Know that there is a (silent) army of women who have your back, who understand all your anger, all of your hurt, and disappointment, all of your sadness. There are scores of us out there, more than anyone could ever guess, and we understand you.

We believe you.

And we’re here whether you decide to speak up or not.

RESOURCES:

Rape, Abuse and Incest National Network: http://www.rainn.org/ 

This post was written by Kristin Shaw exclusively for BonBon Break Media, LLC

The post Rape, Sexual Harassment and Keeping the Silence first appeared on BonBon Break.

Trigger Alert: Discussion of sexual assault

What would you do if you found out your son was posting images of naked women whom he and his friends had sex with? Perhaps even non-consensual sex with? What would you do if you found out your daughter was at a party, and frat boys undressed her unknowingly, photographed her, and posted it on the internet?

Unfortunately, the mothers of the Penn State fraternity, Kappa Delta Rho, and its victims, are faced with this question right now. An investigation is underway as police received a tip from a former member of KDR about a Facebook group where the fraternity posted images of drug deals and nude (some unconscious) women. This may seem like an extreme act of a few lost souls, but as one female Penn State student puts it, “This is hardly an isolated incident.” Some members of Greek life at Penn State are angry, but one member of KDR doesn’t even realize the magnitude of their crimes, as he reports that all fraternities do this, and there are many websites to prove that, “It was an entirely satirical group and it was funny to some extent. Some of the stuff, yeah, it’s raunchy stuff, as you would expect from a bunch of college-aged guys,” he said. “But, I mean, you could go on any one of hundreds and thousands of different sites to access the same kind of stuff and obviously a lot worse and a lot more explicit.”

So what is going on?

There is nothing new about fraternity debauchery. However, now that we have smart phones, it is much harder to keep that debauchery a secret. Nowadays, you would call the nonconsensual posting of nude photos ‘revenge porn’ which is typically referred to as images or videos of nudity and/or sex that were consensually taken but not consensually distributed (1). However, KDR non-consensually posted non-consensual nude photos. Which is even more disturbing, right?

Even though revenge porn website enthusiasts swear their motivation is nothing but an opportunity ‘to look at real naked women’, in reality, the act of uploading a nude picture to punish a woman for leaving you or to boast about you %#$*ing her, is less of an act of sexual expression and more similar to the criminal behavior of stalking and harassment (2). It is clear that non-consensual distribution of sexual imagery and videos is intended to humiliate the victim. With that in mind, we should amend stalking and harassment legislation to reflect our new cyber-reality. Just because the abusive acts are happening in cyberspace doesn’t mean the experience of being humiliated and harassed by an ex is any less terrifying.

Why would a group of “good guys” post nude images of criminal behavior on social media?

Members of our (I’m a sex educator and doctoral candidate at Penn State) community are ‘shocked’. These guys participate in THON! So, sexually assaulting and harassing is fine as long as you also raise money for charity? Please. Let’s look at the white, heterosexual, male privilege here (3). You commit a crime, get a good lawyer, you’ll likely be fine. It’s difficult to imagine that a black fraternity would get away with posting photos of drug deals. Another recent example of the privilege of white fraternities was the Oklahoma incident where racism reared its ugly head. I’m not saying all fraternities are sexist or racist, but the very structure of them creates the environment for sexist and racist ideology to breed, but more importantly, to go unchecked. Even the KDR member admits this happens all the time, unknowingly acknowledging his privilege, “It is shameful to see the self-righteousness that has sprung from the woodworks in response to the alleged Penn State fraternity “scandal.” Here’s a quick reality check: everyone — from Bill Clinton to your grandfather to every Greek organization in the nation does the same old stuff, just as they have been for the entirety of human history”, he claims. “It’s not anyone else’s business, pretty much. It’s an inter-fraternity thing and that’s that.”

Fraternities are a hierarchical institution, where those in power choose new members, based on their ability to comply as part of a group. This system makes it highly unlikely that a fraternity will have a contrarian, or someone to say, “Hey. This isn’t cool. Let’s stop.” Something known as ‘group think’ (4), likely made the criminal behaviors of a few possible, because of the compliant behaviors of the rest. Especially online. When individuals enter virtual spaces (online groups, online games, etc.) they take on the identity of the group for the time being (5). So, if guys are posting nude images and other guys are making harassing comments, ‘good guys’ will likely do the same, even though they wouldn’t say those things in real life. This is why we need to teach our kids (especially if they are the popular kids) to speak up when they know something isn’t right, in person and online.

We know that at least 1 in 5 women have experienced sexual assault (6), which is daunting to say the least. This means many of you reading this right now have a son who has sexually assaulted someone and 1 in 5 of you have a daughter who will experience sexual assault before she graduates from college.

What can parents do before their kids go to college to try to prevent this type of behavior?

1. Talk about consent early and often. You can have these conversations with toddlers! Children of all ages can understand that no one touches them and they don’t touch someone else without asking first. Teens can be taught to tell a partner, “I really want to kiss you right now.” And wait for a reply before actually kissing, and so on.
2. Talk about gender, race, and power early and often. Your white, heterosexual, son needs to know that his experience of the world is that of privilege. He needs to know that it will be more difficult for him to keep his behavior in check because he doesn’t have the cultural cues (that he will be called a slut, that he will be arrested or shot by police, that he will be bullied) that other genders, races, and sexualities experience that make them think about their behavior before they engage in it for better or for worse.
3. Talk about sexual behavior early and often. It’s important to acknowledge that sex is normal and everyone experiences it differently. Your communicating about sex will teach your kids that it is ok to talk with a partner about sex, which increases the chance that they will have a consensual experience and perhaps even successfully use a condom.
4. Talk about porn, sexting, and the brain. Boys and girls are getting their sex-ed from porn. As you can imagine, that is not good. The way the brain reacts to porn is different than the way the brain reacts to sex. Porn is a powerful physiological enforcer. Which is likely why the KDR member didn’t find much harm in what his brothers were doing. Maybe he was masturbating to too much revenge porn and it changed the way he thinks about it? Hard to say.

Questions to ask yourself about the college your kid attends/will attend

1. What is the school’s policy on sexual assault? It is difficult to prosecute cases of sexual assault through the traditional legal system. However, most universities have policies that would expel the perpetrator, especially if the victim gets a rape kit and contacts a victim advocate immediately. Even though he might not see time in jail, he at least won’t be on campus anymore.
2. Do the fraternities have their own housing? Do the sororities have their own housing? What jurisdiction does the University have over the Greek system? Obviously, because of male privilege, men are the powerful ones at parties. However, if women have their own parties, it can be a much safer environment for them as they can leverage more on their own turf. For example, Penn State sororities do not have their own houses. So all Penn State Greek parties have to occur at frat houses by default. It’s better if sororities have their own houses.
3. Does the university mandate sexual assault and binge drinking education? Is that education evidence-based (actually works)? Some research shows that education can transform the behavior of these groups and provide knowledge of how to be a bystander.

Questions to ask your kids before they head to college

1. What would you do if someone was taking someone else into a room and that person was clearly intoxicated? Correct answer: I would say, “Nah, dude. She’s way too drunk. You don’t want to go there.” And then I would help her find her friends, or call her a cab.
2. What would you do if one of your friends shared a nude photo of someone? What if that nude photo was of your sister or your friend? If your reactions were different, why? Correct answer: I would delete the photo and tell the distributor “that is messed up”.
3. How would you know that a potential partner is able and willing to consent to sexual behavior? Correct answer: They would be sober, and able to say “I really want to have sex with you right now. I really want to kiss you right now.” If someone is drunk and flirting, that doesn’t mean a thing.
4. What do you think would happen to you if you had sex with someone who was blacked out? Correct answer: I could get suspended or expelled from school, my sports teams, or even see some jail time.
5. When is it OK to take a picture of someone else? Correct answer: When they have their clothes ON.

You know our culture is a rape culture, when men can commit crimes, photograph those crimes, post those photos and still get away with it because “boys will be boys”. Is this the world we live in? If so, we should be very angry. We should not put up with this anymore. We can demand change here.

References

• Citron, D. K., & Franks, M. A. (2014). Criminalizing revenge porn. Wake Forest Law Review, 49, 345.
• Davis, K. E., Ace, A., & Andra, M. (2000). Stalking perpetrators and psychological maltreatment of partners: Anger-jealousy, attachment insecurity, need for control, and break-up context. Violence and Victims, 15, 407-425.
• Rothenberg, P. S. (Ed.). (2004). White privilege: Essential readings on the other side of racism. Macmillan.
• Packer, D. J. (2009). Avoiding groupthink whereas weakly identified members remain silent, strongly identified members’ dissent about collective problems. Psychological Science, 20, 546-548.
• Sundar, S. S., Jia, H., Waddell, T. F., & Huang, Y. (2015). Toward a Theory of Interactive Media Effects (TIME) Four Models for Explaining How Interface. The Handbook of Communication Technology, 47–86.
• The Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, 2012.

RESOURCES:

• RAINN – Rape, Abuse, Incest, National Network
• SAFER Campus – Students Active For Ending Rape
•  Take Back the Night – Shatter the Silence
• National Sexual Violence Resource Center – April is Sexual Assault Awareness Month

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 This post was written by Megan Maas exclusively for BonBon Break Media, LLC.

The post Prepping Your Kid for the Dark Side of College first appeared on BonBon Break.

“So, bud, what would you do if someone touched your private parts, or wanted you to touch theirs?”

“I’d tell a grown-up, like you or Daddy or a teacher.”

“That’s right. Now what if they said that you’d be in really big trouble if you told, maybe even get sent to jail, or they said they would hurt me if you told. Would you still tell?”

……I couldn’t see my 6-year-old’s face behind me, but his hesitation filled the car.

“I don’t know…Should I?”

I’ve had this conversation with my oldest, in some form or another, several times over the past few years. Our impromptu chat on this particular afternoon, initiated by me as we drove across town, reminded me why talking to my kids about sexual abuse isn’t a once and done kind of discussion.

When I was in graduate school and then working as a therapist, one of my areas of special interest was trauma and abuse. I saw lots of kids who had been sexually abused. I listened to stories of abuse at case staffings and read them in my textbooks. I can picture in my mind’s eye how these situations unfold. I’ve walked alongside children and families as they deal with the devastating effects of abuse and try to find a light at the end of the tunnel. I know the numbers: Approximately 1 in 4 girls and 1 in 6 boys will be the victim of sexual abuse. As a momma, it is scary, scary stuff. Maybe scarier because I don’t know how to prevent it.

There are the obvious steps I can take to reduce my children’s risk:

–Trust my gut.
–Don’t allow the boys to be around someone who is known or suspected to have abused a child.
–Teach my children to be assertive and help them develop a strong network of friends and supportive adults. (Perpetrators may target children who are passive, isolated, or in some way other way vulnerable.)
–Talk to them about appropriate and inappropriate touch. Encourage them to listen to their gut and tell me or their daddy, if something doesn’t feel right.

There has been at least one occasion where I chose not to leave the boys with someone that I just didn’t feel right about. There was nothing concrete I could put my finger on, but my gut whispered to me, oh-so-quietly, and I listened.

But I also know that sexual perpetrators sometimes groom the parents while they are grooming their victim. While they are building up the trust of the child, they may be establishing the parents’ trust, too. And 9 times out of 10 children are abused by someone they know – a relative, a family friend, a neighbor, a coach or a teacher. But I won’t force my boys to live in a bubble or walk around in fear of every adult who enters their lives.

So while I can take the steps I mentioned above to reduce the risk of my children being abused, I cannot completely eliminate the risk. And with that in mind, I am working hard to ensure that my boys tell me, if someone ever tries to abuse them. I want them to tell me immediately. Because here is a fact that I find just as scary than the rates of abuse: Most kids don’t tell. Or, they don’t tell right away and the abuse repeats.

How do we encourage our children to tell?

ABOUT ELLIE: At Musing Momma, Ellie shares honest and personal stories that range from reflections on motherhood to tips for raising healthy, (relatively) well-behaved kids, and from research on child development to fun family and community activities.  Ellie’s background as a child psychologist brings a unique perspective to her experiences as a parent, although it provides no guarantee that she knows what the heck she is doing at any given moment. As wife and mother in a multiracial family, she often writes about raising two African-American/white sons.  Ellie resides in central Pennsylvania with her husband and their boys, ages 3 and 6.

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The post Talking With Kids About Sexual Abuse by Ellie at Musing Momma first appeared on BonBon Break.