Victim Advocacy -The Do's & Don'ts of Supporting Survivors
Trigger/content warning: rape, sexual abuse
I was 18 years old in 2017. I was fresh out of high school, off in college at a big university with a party animal reputation, excited to study hard and experience life outside of my family’s suburbs. I was aware of rape culture, victim blaming, and sexual violence on campuses. I was aware I had been taken advantage of by a boyfriend in the past, in a way that I couldn’t get out of my head for some reason – late at night, when my roommates and I crashed from studying until our brains were fried, I would sit there in the dark, remembering the image of the room that surrounded me while I was violated. I would sit there and cry in silence and try to remain calm enough to fall asleep.
By the time I was ready to call my experience a rape and admit that I was a victim, the #MeToo movement was in full swing. A new, collective standard was taking shape in progressive circles right in front of our eyes: believe victims. Believe women. Believe them when they come forward, and praise them for their courage.
While I felt a lot of empathy for the victims and participants in the #MeToo movement, and I really admired their bravery, I didn't personally feel empowered in sharing what happened to me. I didn’t feel brave. I didn’t feel strong. And I definitely didn’t feel like a survivor, for the emotional trauma inflicted upon me was brutal and tested my will to live on a daily basis.
Slowly, I started to open up more about what happened to me. I would tell certain friends or coworkers, but only deep into conversations about relationships and abuse. Normally my story would be met with an apology on behalf of my rapist. I’m thankful and privileged that the majority of the people I told would say, “I’m so sorry, you didn’t deserve to have that happen to you.”
At this point, the conversation could go in one of two possible directions:
To the ground. The conversation was over, and the subject would change.
An interaction would transpire that would make me regret ever bringing it up.
When I was gathering the courage to share my experience, I mentally prepared myself for skepticism. I completely and entirely trained myself to defend my story with facts. I was ready to provide anecdotes of other forms of grooming & abuse that my rapist inflicted on me. I was ready to admit that I was wearing a short skirt and a low cut top at the time of my sexual assault. I was ready to admit the ways I could have prevented what happened to me, and as painful as it was, I was ready to defend myself to the end of the world. But what I never expected was that my story would come as no surprise. What I never expected was that someone could believe me, then consider their duty complete.
Real things I’ve heard as a victim with regard to my experience:
“I always knew there was something off about him.”
“I’m not surprised.”
“Are you sure you want to report him? That could really affect his future, even if he doesn’t get charged.”
I was mortified by the amount of mutual friends I had with my rapist that had apparently seen the signs of abuse, but never brought it to my attention. I was alarmed at the casual responses, the nonchalance, and I was hurt by the concern for my rapist’s future over my past & present.
These conversations would push me into the darkest corners of blaming myself. I understood already that my rape was my rapist’s fault, intention, and decision. But learning that others could see what I couldn’t, that others thought through the consequences of me coming forward, and just the thought of someone hearing a rape experience and not immediately responding with solidarity – it made me feel so stupid and humiliated for thinking my experience was significant enough to share, let alone spend years analyzing and reliving by myself.
While it’s too late now to tell these people how they should have reacted to my story, or how I wish they would have shown me the support I needed, I’m now determined to ensure the standard is pushed farther than just belief from now on. Support can no longer just be a sentence, or a shared post on Instagram. Support is accountability. Support is discomfort.
I’ve formulated a list of do’s and don’t’s for inevitable conversations surrounding rape, heaven forbid you ever need to have one. The list is covered by a blanket of inherent belief in victims, not to dismiss the importance of belief, but to challenge ourselves to push further into the discomfort, into the fear, and into the ugly reality of rape and its effects on our communities.
Do:
Tell the victim it wasn’t their fault: They may already know, but it will not cause damage to remind them.
Ask the victim if there is any way you can help: And accept it if the victim tells you no.
Ask the victim how many people are aware of their experience: You need to understand how the victim values privacy, and be responsible with their secret if they trust you.
Ask the victim how public they plan to make their story: You don’t need to make suggestions; you simply need to gauge how to treat their experience moving forward.
Ask the victim if they know their resources: Provide the victim with the National Sexual Assault Hotline if they need it (800.656.HOPE (4673)), ask if they know how to find mental healthcare, ask if they need somewhere confidential to talk.
Ask the victim if they have considered reporting: Again, your suggestion and advice is not needed. You simply need to understand that while one victim may not have considered reporting at all, another victim could have the same decision weighing on them and causing serious harm.
Empathize: Imagine yourself in the shoes of the victim, approaching you with a vulnerable and anxious confession. Treat the victim as you would want to be treated, as you would want your loved ones to be treated.
Hold the rapist (and every rapist) accountable in every way possible, with respect to your own safety as well as the victim’s safety: Block them on social media, cut contact with them, and inform others of the rapist’s actions. While it may not always be possible to isolate a rapist completely, it is critical that the victim understands you value their experience more than you value the rapist as a friend or associate.
Don’t:
Make yourself the smart one: It does not matter if you saw the red flags. The victim matters more than your psychic powers.
Challenge the victim’s intentions: Vulnerable, uncomfortable, and traumatic stories are rarely exposed out of malice.
Suggest responsibility on the victim’s part: Whether it be blatant victim blaming or sneaky implications that the victim could control their rapist’s future, the victim has likely spent a lot of time observing their new responsibilities as a victim & survivor of rape. They do not need you to coach them.
Regard the rapist’s experience: It doesn't matter what the rapist is doing now. It doesn’t matter what they are thinking or feeling now. The victim’s experience and support must take priority, not out of revenge, but out of justice.
Sympathize with the rapist: Rape is a deliberate decision that is often preceded by grooming and other forms of abuse meant to exhaust the victim into submission and terror.
Sympathize with the rapist’s existing sympathizers: The rapist’s family and friends are human beings, but they are not the victim standing in front of you, needing you. No matter the hardship on a rapist’s loved ones, the victim has trusted you with their experience that has likely plagued them more than they will ever let you know.
Ask for details or evidence: The victim is not responsible for getting you on their side. Being an advocate or supporter of a rape victim comes with responsibility that you must be willing & ready to accept and implement.
Question the victim’s morality: No matter how long ago the rape was, no matter how distant it may seem, victims come forward late because they attempted to recover from their experience alone. The weight can be simply unbearable. Their decision to come forward, no matter how late, is not a sign of failure or weakness.
Turn the conversation philosophical: While sexual abuse and other forms of abuse are not simple, and while you may want to understand more, it is not the victim’s responsibility to entertain you with conversations about free will, about biology, or about harmony. Seriously, stop.
While these subjects can be emotional and even tense, there needs to be serious change made to the way we approach rape as a topic, along with the way we approach victims. By making these changes and informing others of the do’s & don't’s of victim advocacy, community control can be achieved. By holding rapists accountable from all directions, we can implement social and emotional consequences in response to abuse, which is commonly under-punished by the judicial system. By adjusting our attitudes towards rape and rape victims, we can create environments that are safer for survivors. By creating these safe, secure spaces for survivors, we can prevent unnecessary trauma resulting from self-blame and isolation. Our communities are capable of these changes, and are ultimately responsible for making them reality. A reality where victims are not only believed, but supported and protected, is the reality that future generations deserve.