“If you didn’t know this about me, it’s not because I’ve actively kept it from you. Rape isn’t a topic that comes up in everyday, casual conversation, and even when it is topical, mentioning that you, personally, are a rape victim is a good way to get people whispering that you’re “playing the pity card,” or narcissistic by focusing the conversation on yourself. And, often, someone decides to play armchair psychologist, deducing that a laundry list of your character defects can be traced back to “that.”
I am a successful businesswoman & entrepreneur. I have loving girlfriends and excellent, loyal, funny, warm friends. I am possessed of a big temper and a bigger personality. I’m proof that a raped person is not, inherently, a weak or wimpy person.
Mommy, I’m sorry I never told you. I don’t let my weaknesses or flaws define me, and I don’t let my rape define me, either.
But there isn’t a day that goes by that my actions, small or large, are not a little bit influenced by what was done to me eight years ago. And the picture I posted an hour ago - of the redhead with a sign - made me realize that a very big action of mine - being a shamed, “invisible” rape victim - isn’t one that the spectre of a horrible night can force me to continue doing.
In this case, don’t wonder if “Like”ing this status would be offensive. LIKE the shit out of this, and repost it if you feel the urge. I’m not the girl in this picture anymore, but it still makes me sick to my stomach to post this anyway. And that’s fucked up - that that guy from eight years ago can make me feel like this, here now, that putting on old clothes and an old hat can make my skin crawl. And that’s why I’m coming “out” as a rape survivor.”
-Emily of Nightingale Needles
I really admire her courage. Please check out her page and here is the picture she was referring to in her statement: