The stories we tell about rape

Today I am going to dive in with a subject that at times brings me to tears but also fills me with enraged passion. I am still left with the dream that things can and will change. And I hold onto this dream tightly.

I am writing to you about rape, consent and the stories we tell about it. I am responding to the countless stories I hear about rape. These stories blame women for their “slutty” appearance, their lack of vigilance, and their “irresponsible” actions. These stories tell us that some professions, certain races or classes of people are more deserving of rape. They tell you that rape is your fault and that you could have prevented it from happening.

We all hear these stories about rape. We hear them on the news, in newspapers, and during conversations with friends. Some are implicit while others remain explicit in the story they tell about rape.

You might tell me that these are just stories. And yes. They are stories. They are stories about rape, about women, and about consent. But these are stories that have also become understood as the Truth. They have been validated in the Law through legal discourse and precedent. They have been repeated in media and imprinted in the minds of women and men, and society at large but these are not innocent stories. They are important because what people say about rape and consent have real concrete implications and consequences for women. They impact the way women feel following a rape, they impact the conviction rate of rapists and they impact the percentage of women who report to the police. Lastly, and most importantly, they erase the fact that rape is perpetrated by men against women, and that rape is never a woman’s fault. Re-telling these stories reinforces, perpetuates and validates rape myths and rape against women.

And I do not claim to be immune from these stories we tell about rape and consent. I fall into the trap of believing them and reinforcing them with my language and my actions. I blame the girls in the short skirts and high heels when they complain about unwanted male attention. I ask myself- don’t they know better?
I know that I should be more scared when I go drinking with friends than when I walk home alone at night. I should be more scared in my own home with loved ones, relatives or acquaintances because over 80% of sexual assault is perpetrated by someone you know. Despite this, it is when I walk home alone when my heart pounds and it is only when I close the door behind me that I feel safe. Somehow we have all learned to believe these myths with gusto. Somehow I have learned that home is safe, despite the fact that the majority of abuse and violence perpetrated against women occurs in the home. But I believe these myths because if anything happened, I would be blamed. So I have learned to be vigilant- I call cabs or friends walk me home (and thank you for doing that- it means oh so much to me). But that still doesn’t solve the problem of rape.



So stories are important. They impact all of our lives. They will impact the one in four women in Canada who will be sexually assaulted in their lifetime. That means that there is a good chance that some of your female friends, acquaintances or family members will be raped or have already been. But maybe you won’t hear about it. Because talking about rape means talking about blame and shame. It means talking about what you did wrong and how you could have prevented it. So the stories we tell about rape are real, important and matter in all of our lives. Victim blaming is never acceptable. Instead, the stories we tell need to put rapists at the heart of the problem because rape is never a woman’s fault.

Photo credits: Garneau Sisterhood