The Roanoker - March/April 2015 - 31

says. "What I went through was the classic response. It
was my fault, I asked for it, I deserved it, I was of no value. Today, I'm happy, strong, confident, comfortable and
I have no pretense left in talking about the rape. I had
to go back and look and I've come to some conclusions.
"Males are not taught what to do with lust, not taught
how to shape and modify it. The porn culture teaches
them to look at girls as objects and girls are taught to
be objects. The girls are punished by both sides. Men are
acting out of their own patriarchial hatred for women.
Most men do not like women."
MELISSA HARPER IS A FORENSIC NURSE at Carilion who sees rape victims shortly after the event to
treat and evaluate them. She is well-known in the field
and speaks on sexual assault at conferences. She is on

a governor's commission on sexual assault.
"The information we collect is vital in guiding the
patient's care first and foremost," she says. She estimates
that two to eight percent of reported rapes are false, a
number Perry disputes. "A great majority of rape victims are not lying. Society, though, tends not to believe
them. Victims blame themselves."
Harper says rape rarely happens with a stranger
jumping out of the bushes: "Most of the offenders are
known by the victim. They're not strangers ... Accusations are easiest to believe by society when the victim
has been physically brutalized, although this is uncommon. Five percent of victims suffer a life-threatening
injury and less than one percent die in connection with
their sexual assault."

A PERSONAL STORY OF HORROR

The following first-person rape account was
written in response to journalist/blogger Dan
Smith's Dec. 9, 2014, post about false reporting of rape (fromtheeditr.blogspot.com). It
paved the way for the accompanying story
by Smith on sexual assault.
* God forbid this ever happens to me
again, but would I immediately say something to someone of authority next time?
You bet your sweet ass I would.
I was 15. He was about 45. He was also a
family member, by marriage. I was violated,
and felt nothing but shock and filth. Oh,
the filth.
Immediately after this life changing experience, I was overwhelmed with, "What
do I do?" The movies about rape and assault
didn't exactly match what I had just experienced. Let the denial begin!
* I shouldn't have been so happy that
evening ... I've heard that laughing at men's
jokes makes them think you're flirting.
* Why in the world would I have been
wearing make-up that evening? It was just
a holiday weekend with family. No wonder
he did all this.
* He's always funny and witty ... there's no
way he could have just attacked me. No way
he meant any harm.
* Why am I overreacting? I don't want to
be a trouble-making drama queen. I'm just a
dumb kid. They wouldn't believe me.
* I need to learn to stay quiet and keep to
myself. Blending in, or avoiding being noTHE

R OANOKER.COM

ticed at all would be the safest way to prevent this from ever happening to me again.
Problem solved. Let the new life begin!
Being quiet to avoid being noticed ended
up being easy. I mean, depression doesn't
exactly make you a ball of energy.
The quiet left me with flashbacks that
were absolutely relentless. I confided in a
handful of people, swore them to secrecy,
but it never helped. I was hoping that I'd feel
cleansed and that someone would say just the
right thing to help me process everything differently, to where it'd just go away. No dice.
Too consumed and stressed with everything, I started to drop body weight and
didn't realize it. Friends, teachers, family and
coaches actually brought my weight loss to
my attention, and they all gave me compliments on it.
Let the perfect distraction from reality
begin!
Anorexia set in and every single day my
weight loss was my priority for more than a
year. Avoiding food, weighing myself, and
altering my appearance drastically, had replaced the flashbacks and filthy feelings, for
the most part.
Take a second and imagine this: Emotional
pain being so terrible and powerful that the
painful and deadly effects of starvation actually feel good.
We know your body can only go so long
without nourishment before shutting down.
Mine did. Dammit. What's going to keep me

from remembering the scariest night of my
life?
My very first night in the hospital, I was
interviewed by a nurse. Lots of questions
beginning "have you ever" and I was getting
irritated that all of my answers were, "No." I
was either a very boring teenager, or a very
good teenager. Then the nurse asked, "Have
you ever been sexually abused?" My answer
was, "I don't know." Her next question was,
"By whom?" I said, "A family member." She
continued with her other "have you ever"
questions.
The next day, first thing in the morning,
some people I've never seen before let me
know that we needed to talk. After I told my
story, I learned that I was a victim of sexual
abuse and social workers would be involved
and my family member would be arrested.
I felt safe. I felt saved.
The best part? After his arrest, other family members started to speak up with similar
stories about him. I also had other family
members share their own experiences with
me. They were either exposed to it, or comforted others who were victims of it. But
every single one of them kept quiet about
it, just like I did.
But, what if they had said something?
Would I have been protected from him? Did
that nurse reporting my answers to authorities prevent others from being abused by
him? I hope so.
God, I hope so...
MARCH/APRIL 2015

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The Roanoker - March/April 2015

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