One of the first things they ask you in the ER is to rate your pain on a scale from 1 to 10. I’ve been asked this question hundreds of times and I remember once, when I couldn’t catch my breath and I felt like my chest was on fire, the nurse asked me to rate the pain. Though I couldn’t speak, I held up 9 fingers. Later, when I started feeling better, the nurse came in and she called me a fighter. “You know how I know?” she said, “You called a 10 a 9.” But that wasn’t the truth.
I didn’t call it a 9 because I was brave. The reason I called it a 9 was because I was saving my 10…and this was it.
THIS FUCKED ME UP
The more we depend on women to prevent rape, the easier it is to blame them when it happens to them. Here’s a look at the well-documented ways we can actually stop rape. Maybe it’s time we invest a little more time and resources into implementing them before we send gallons of nail polish to colleges across the country.
I’ve known too many women to be raped, had nurses and liaison officers tell them that they had enough evidence, and then the police do fuck all to the rapist and let him walk free and continue his life as normal while the victim has to struggle every day to cope with the shit they put them through.
This has happened to too many women I love. Way too fucking many.
One person I know who was raped, the police even found CCTV footage of the actual incident, but apparently that wasn’t enough to convict him either.
Think about that.