What Does ‘Healing’ Look Like After Rape?
By: Kate Chisholm, Mph
Tags: Feminism, Trauma, Self, Healing, Rape

Healing seems to shape shift on me as time goes by and my understanding of realistic consequences change. I first wondered if healing would look like a predator being removed from society and placed in a cold prison cell to rot with his sick choices, alone. It never felt right to me, but neither did being drugged and raped. It was presented to me as the only option, so I took a chance at it. The only person it hurt was me. And prison is a punishment- it’s not rehabilitative. Acquittal and probation aren’t great consequences, either. The purpose of reporting has turned more into the idea of putting a name to paper, a sign to warn others. But what’s the point if others never see his name, or like this guy, he just changes it?

Early on, I thought that if he had just admitted what he did and told me why he did it, I would drop the whole case. I just wanted answers. I just wanted to know what had happened to me. I wanted him to be forced with the discomfort of confronting me and explaining to me why he had chosen to harm me. I didn’t even really have anything to say in return. I still don’t. If I allow myself to daydream and picture giving a victim impact statement at sentencing, I see him as the first domino and a lost cause. There’s nothing I can say to change any of that, and nothing I’d want to get off my chest.

You’d also think that considering my whole goal was to warn the public, having his name publicized for what he did would feel like healing, but it didn’t. The first article that came out was agonizing. I was grateful for the journalist’s work, and I remain grateful that it is published and cemented in time, but my gut reaction to it was sadness and pain. All I could think of was why he had to do something so stupid that now both of us were caught up in a world that we didn’t want to be in. The stupidity and pointlessness of his actions were all I could think about. I cried for the waste of life this was on everyone involved. My family was terrified for me. My friends saw it as some reflection of justice. My colleagues were relieved. Eventually, I accepted the power of the article. It was undoubtedly important. There was a mix of emotions. But ultimately, none of them were healing.

Healing can only be a bilateral approach if both parties are willing to engage in a process that could truly end in reparations, like restorative justice. Personally, I believe that the person who harmed me is too manipulatively seasoned to be involved in such a process. And even apart from restorative justice, I know that — unfortunately for him — I can never expect anything agreeable on his end. He hired a private investigator to “dig up dirt” (aka, call my ex-boyfriends and male friends- all of whom warned me about it afterwards), he hired a lawyer that goes to horrific ends to earn a paycheck, and he hides behind his ability to plead the fifth and deny his cellphone passcode (a critical piece of evidence) while I pour my heart and soul out, time and again.

He has no interest in my well-being, which is wild to think about when I’m always considering the best possible outcome for both of us, given that I don’t believe perpetrators stop unless they get help. And perhaps I shouldn’t consider that, and definitely sometimes, I’ve been driven to a point where I don’t. Why should I, when he never thought about the best outcome for me when I was unconscious on his mattress?