Get over it

She’s a preteen when her father tells her women just need to get over rape. Shit happens to all of us. Only the weak bitch and moan. It’s an argument she internalizes. She thinks of victims as, well, victims. Buck up, camper.

I’m eating breakfast when my dad goes off about Mike Tyson. About the harpy who cried rape just because he’s rich and famous. I get in a fight with my friend later when I repeat his argument verbatim. Years later, I read how Tyson raped the teenaged daughter of his cornerman. Harpy, huh?

And now I will tell you the brutal thing. We do so much damage to our own cause by siding with them. With men who think rape only happens because we’ve done something wrong. That it can’t be prevented. But it can be encouraged. Why’d we walk home alone at night? Why’d we get in a car with that guy? Why were we 5, and sleeping in our beds as though the world weren’t teeming with predators?

We blame victims because if they are “other” then they are not us. We’d be smarter. More careful. We’d drink less. We’d never be around dangerous men. Why do we expect women to be smarter and more cautious? Why don’t we expect men to stop raping? Tell me.