This Is Why Your Children Are Afraid To Tell You About Rape
By: Ferdinand S Flower
Tags: Rape Culture, Sexual Assault, Family, Me Too Movement, Rape

During the height of the #MeToo movement, I was dating a supportive partner who encouraged me to tell my parents that I was raped. Though I wanted to tell my mothers, I didn’t feel like I could trust them. This is why.

Imagine your son or daughter in that position because they may be struggling with it silently.

A Stunning Revelation

When I was twenty years old, I walked into my parents’ room to say goodnight. Mother was rushing around, talking to my other mother, who was sitting on the bed. The conversation was about a girl I knew in high school. I will call her Jane, but it wasn’t her real name.

That was the moment that I knew I could never tell my parents that I had been drunk, underdressed, and raped too.

Jane called my mother that night while walking home from her boss’s place. She’d started drinking towards the end of her shift at a bar. By closing time, she was drunk, so her boss offered to let her stay overnight at his place. Jane told my mother that she was drunker than she’d realized — when she got to her boss’s apartment, he raped her.

Jane asked Mother for a ride home or to a hospital. My mother said she was on the way. While getting ready, my mother proceeded to discuss the issue with my other mother.

“She [Jane] is always drinking too much. She’s always wearing those revealing outfits. I can’t say I’m surprised this happened.”

Mother’s wife agreed, saying it was awful but that the girl “had never been smart about stuff like this.”

That was the moment that I knew I could never tell my parents that I had been drunk, underdressed, and raped too.

I Was Raped

The incident with the girl occurred two years after I had been raped. Mine was the classic story of getting wasted at a college party and ending up half asleep and underneath a boy I had just met, begging for him to stop.

Even if my parents they said they believed me, I would assume that they talked about it behind my back the way they had with Jane.

I had put that night out of my head and had not been with anyone since. However, I’d recently started seeing someone who brought all of my fears and anxieties to the surface. This all happened at the height of the #MeToo movement when conversations about sexual assault, allegations, and false reports ran rampant in the news and daily discussions.

The man I was seeing encouraged me to talk to my parents about the rape, but I was worried about how they would react. After hearing what they said about Jane, I knew I could never trust them. Even if my parents said they believed me, I would assume that they talked about it behind my back the way they had with Jane.

Wishful Thinking

It has been over two years since then. While I still intend to keep the secret from my parents, I often imagined what they might have said and how they might have acted.

This is what I would want to hear from my parents. I hope that it helps another parent of a survivor of sexual assault communicate with their child.

I am terrible at having deep conversations, but it’s easier if I don’t have to look at them and focus on something else. I’d tell them I want to talk to them, but we have to get in the car and let me drive.

I imagine it raining, and I wait some time to settle into the car. Once I felt ready, I would tell my mothers the whole story start-to-finish. They’d want to interrupt and ask questions but wouldn’t.

“What can we do? How can we help?” my mothers would ask — desperately wanting to hold their daughter and tell her that everything would be okay.

After a pause, the first words from their mouths would be, “We love you.”

My parents would tell me that they realized something was off — that I seemed different when I came home from college and refused to go back. They would say they’d wondered why I didn’t want to see my friends and never let them hug me anymore even though I had always been a big hugger.

My parents would want to know my rapist’s name. They would want to call the police or enlist the family to hunt him down and make him pay. I probably wouldn’t want to tell them at first, so they would say they’d support whatever I wanted to do.

Most importantly, my parents would tell me that the rape was not my fault, and I could not have seen it coming. They would be focused on making sure I had everything I needed to get through the trauma.

It was hard enough to imagine my parents saying and doing all I wished for after hearing them talk about Jane.

“What can we do? How can we help?” my mothers would ask — desperately wanting to hold their daughter and tell her that everything would be okay.

After sorting everything out, we would get my favorite food (sushi) and ice cream afterward. Then we’d take a trip to Bed Bath & Beyond to buy new bedsheets, body wash, and bath products to wash off the icky filth that I felt reliving my trauma.

I don’t know what would happen after that. My imagination never took me that far. It was hard enough to imagine my parents saying and doing all I wished for after hearing them talk about Jane.

Parents, Your Actions Speak Loudly

I know that being raped does not define me, but it hurts to think that my mothers will never know such an integral part of what made me into the person I am today. It would hurt even more to know that they would blame me for being raped.

It is never right to blame the victim. No one “asks for it”.

I hope that my story helps someone, somewhere, whether it be a victim or a victim’s loved one.

Maybe my story will teach at least one parent to be careful about what they say and do. I would like them to think before forming an opinion on something — instead, imagining their child in that position.

Parents, your actions speak loudly. The truth is that your child may be struggling with their trauma silently — afraid of your judgment.