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Hallo loves.

This is a patron-only post. 

That means it's a safe place to comment. (I will 100% not flip this post public at a later date). If you want to chat here, share a story, or find a helping hand from a fellow patron, we're here.

I come with an unexpected offering today, and those are, to me, always the best kind.

I just - moments ago - published a piece on Substack called:

You can read it here, it's free to the public. 

https://amandapalmer.substack.com/p/you-never-screamed

.......

Please, as usual, if you wanna follow me over on Substack, do. (For the time being, I'll always cross-post everything over here, and with more of a backstory about how the sausgae got made). 

You may have seen the post here where I toy with changing the branding/name of the Substack; that's still in the works.

.......

A little about the piece.

A few days ago (May 4th), this letter to the editor was published in The New York Times. It was called:

I read it in bed. It was late, Ash had gone to sleep.

I thought I was just going to catch up with the latest on American Politics n Stuff.

Oh, fuck, man. I was so short of breath and YES, YES, YES when I read it that I dashed off my own screed to instagram along the same lines. 

The post blew up (it currently has a long novel's worth of comments - over 1,000 at last count - and I did what I often do, against my better judgement at 10pm.

I started reading them. Every comment.

And then I started crying, and shaking my little fist at the world, and wanting to hug every fucking person in those comments: not just the survivors but those bearing witness, and those offering hugs, and the whole thing was just one of those sad but beautiful moments on the internet where you remember that it can actually be a nice place where people are nice to one another. And that the internet - and the way we can write and share on it - can open up field of light and truth along with the dungeons of swampy darkness. 

So instead of doing what I'd been planning on doing, which was to wait a moment and cut and paste my thoughts here to patreon, then to facebook, and so on, I decided to take a deep breath, make myself wait (can you wait ONE fuckign day to share something you've written and feel passionately about, Amanda? Apparently - I CAN!) and sent it along to my editor/copy-editor, and decided to give it a real stab as a full piece on Substack.

This means that more people can read it, more people can share it, and instead of letting it die an instant death on social media, it now counts as Real Writing.

This is the video I did for the $5 subscribers over on substack as well, and as usual, I used the video reading to do my final-final editing pass. I always catch things when I read/perform aloud that just cannot get caught when I'm reading in my head, or even aloud to myself. I need a crowd to keep me honest.

So....I hope you read it, and I hope it resonates.

I posted it to social media as well.

To facebook here, and to twitter here, and I'll put it up on Instagram tomorrow.

I hope that if you read it, you share it, in whatever way makes sense.

This one is MADE to be shared.

Share it for the one person out there who might need it. 

Share it for the one person out there who might share it with the one person who might need it. 

Share it to fight the loneliness.

I love you all so much.

A reminder: you are truly NOT alone.

RAINN is the U.S.’s national sexual assault hotline. It’s free and confidential and 24/7. 

For the rest of the world, RAINN has a list here: https://www.rainn.org/international-sexual-assault-resources.

You may notice I riffed on (ripped off?) the NYtimes graphic for my piece. I thought that was actually kind of neat. One story leading to another - in a slightly different font. ( Left: mine, notsofancy; Right: NYtimes all fancy;)

This is the thing.

This is how it works.

All of these stories  - collected and seen - make a far more powerful scream then one person can ever make.

Please scream along.

In solidarity (and screaming....screamidarity?)

AFP



———THE STUFF I PASTE AT THE END OF THE POST———

1. if you are a patron and new to my work, don’t forget your patronage allows you access to ALL of my patreon releases to date. HERE is the link to download my latest big solo record, “There Will Be No Intermission”, and HERE is a link to download the PDF of the art/essay book that goes with it.

2. if you’re a patron reading this post via an email notification, please click through to comment on this post. at the very least, if you’ve read it, indicate that by using the heart symbol. that's always nice for me to see, so i know who's reading.

3. see All the Things (over 200 of them) i've made so far on patreon:

http://amandapalmer.net/things

4. JOIN THE SHADOWBOX COMMUNITY FORUM, find your people, and discuss everything: https://forum.theshadowbox.net/

5. are you new to my music and TOTALLY OVERWHELMED? TAKE A WALK THROUGH AMANDALANDA….we made a basic list of my greatest hits n stuff (at least up until a few years ago, this desperately needs updating) on this lovely page: http://amandalanda.amandapalmer.net/

6. general AFP/patreon-related questions? ask away, someone will answer: patronhelp@amandapalmer.net

2023 Tour Dates:

***THE DRESDEN DOLLS***

May 19th, 20th, & 21st - Denver, CO - Ophelia's Electric Soapbox *SOLD OUT*

May 26th, 27th, & 28th - Santa Fe, NM - Meow Wolf *SOLD OUT*

June 16th, 17th, & 18th - Orlando, FL - The Social *SOLD OUT*

June 23rd, 24th, & 25th - New Orleans, LA - Toulouse Theatre *SOLD OUT*

There is a waitling list for tickets. All links at: https://amandapalmer.net/events/



Comments

Schmeecosis

Not sure if I can handle the video right now, I've just started a PTSD study with a local hospital and have been reliving the lifetime of rape I've endured. And no. I never screamed either.

Suzanne

thank you Amanda I did scream years later after I figured out what had happened after I figured out why I was having nightmares and why I was afraid he was going to jump out at me on my college campus thousands of miles from where he was serving in the military overseas we had parted ways, and I couldn’t understand why I was still terrified of him. I shouldn’t have been terrified of him, he was gone. I left him but I was still terrified he would show up. ironically my current husband is the one who pointed out what had happened to me what he did to me maybe that’s when I fell in love with my husband. The night 30 years ago when shortly after we started dating, he told me after I explained my nightmares and strange fear to him and where it had all started, he said he raped you are you OK and held me while I cried, and I got therapy after that and a very long time later I was able to confront him and he denied it and then he didn’t and acknowledged it, and now we can talk because we are both older and have grown and everything is changed but yeah I didn’t scream that night and after that, I screamed a lot and I still cry.

Suzanne

Dictated as I'm stuck in traffic on my way home from working in Chicago...

Pamela Kirsch

Going to watch later this evening after I see some friends. Don’t wanna be sad just yet. I wanted to cross-post my comment from IG. As a trauma therapist I see survivors blaming themselves constantly for not (blank). Not screaming - not leaving - not knowing. All of these responses are normal trauma responses. When we experience something that scary our bodies protect us by going into fight flight freeze or submit. Our bodies decide how to keep us safe. I’m a freezer. I’m so sorry to hear what’s happened to you Amanda. I think survivors find survivors. I’ve actually always wanted to talk to you about this but have never had the courage. Maybe this summer at camp if we wanna be sad one night. I too have big T trauma and unfortunately have experienced more than one sexual assault and even though I am able to tell everyone else it’s not their fault I sometimes fall into that trap with my own trauma. Love a trauma therapist who is still healing ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ Also a total aside but related. I’m currently working with a reporter to bring attention to rape cases that have been botched by special victims division in the NYPD. If this resonates with you feel free to reach out. ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Emily W

I don’t have the spoons to share my stories or even scream right now (though I have), but I am here in support of and in solidarity with Amanda and everyone here. *virtual hug if you want one*

Mashel Keen

I have to save this for later…kid has therapy 32 miles away & i will be the emotionally available/patient parent for them. I know this is going to twist & turn the knives left from my assaults. Thank you Amanda. Isn’t it nice when we can all scream together ❤️‍🔥

Laura Damone

I have not been raped. I was touched on a bus in NYC. I was sitting by the window trapped a man threw his coat on part of my leg and started to massage my leg. I was a teenager I froze and dissociated I didn’t scream I wanted it over I don’t know how long it lasted. I remember like it was yesterday. I still never sit inside where I can’t escape fast. I started listening to the video and this memory came back. It gets in my head now and then.

Lou Collins

I’ve not once screamed, not while being assaulted. Assuming any sort of action is like saying “I’d have done this in XYZ situation!” [when you encounter the bear in the woods; when the human gets out of their car and approaches your car angrily; when your babysitter slaps you across the face; whatever and etc.] These assumptions and this questioning drives us further into shame. And this is how many powerful people keep hold of their power - by taking your face and rubbing it into the icing of your cake of shame. “Eat it up. It tastes good. Stay quiet. I never wanted you to scream anyway.”

Holly Saurus

Took me a while to recognise that the sex under coercion with my ex husband was, in fact, rape. Why scream against sex you're being told that you want?

Sydney Shepherd

I....have had a hard time coming to terms with times I wasn't fully sober to consent to certain encounters as being wrong. Because for so long I was told "well its your fault bc of xyz". There is one I def was trying to get away from someone and he kept pushing and not being sober convinced myself in the moment "give him a chance"....I regret it a lot. Even immediately the next day I had to work and my coworkers knew I was a mess. I am thankful for them and for their response to it. My therapist had to look me in the eye and remind me it wasn't my fault a few days later. I cry as I write it now. I had a former friend (who was fucked up on cocaine and alcohol) put me in a couple situations I was not comfortable with. I'm still glad nothing overly violent happened but legally speaking it's a grey area.... It's easier to see what's wrong for other people than ourselves. Easier to comfort them and not give the same excuses in our heads. And for me that often comes with anger at myself for not doing those xyz things. In the end thank you for speaking out. Thank you for writing such a beautiful and thoughtful piece about it.

Serious Monkey

Thank you again Miss Palmer for being a Soldier and Voice for the Survivors of the worste nuances of this world. Tribe Lady!

Laura Damone

I scream now remembering the physical abuse by my mother bad PTSD! I Actually screamed and screamed and screamed yesterday in my car. My mother died in 2020 she was 96.

Mary Alice Fraughton

If I had screamed someone might have heard me. If I had screamed, someone might have heard me and then that someone would have known what was happening to me, and what was happening to me was awful. I didn’t even want to know about it. I tried not to know about it while it was happening, and as soon as it was over I cleaned up his mess as best I could: I picked his semen out of my hair and I put on long pants to hide the rapidly forming bruises, and I went to a church barbecue across the road. I destroyed the evidence and I silenced the witness; I did exactly the opposite of screaming. By the time I was ready to know and to share what had happened, I was up on that witness stand being asked this stupid, cliched, irrelevant question. They ask us why we were too ashamed to scream, and then they ask us for the rest of our lives why we are so constantly screaming. Why we are so angry. So loud. So unashamed. I am not ashamed of the noises my body did or did not make while it was being violated. I am not ashamed of the noises my body makes now, or the noises it will make tomorrow. All of the shame surrounding my rape and its aftermath? It was too heavy and it did not belong to me. That is our collective, societal shame, and I refuse to spend another second of my life protecting anyone else from it. It isn’t mine to carry. I know what happened to me. I will have to know about it forever. And if I have to live with that knowledge, so does everyone else. So no, I didn’t scream. And no, I won’t stop screaming now.

Bethany Olson

If I scream it’s real. And if I don’t scream then this is not my body and this is not happening to me. Besides it might wake up my best friend next to me in bed and I can’t accept that this is happening so I will go to a quiet place inside myself where I’m just a doll and I don’t bleed and I can pretend this didn’t happen. I’m not real. This isn’t real. Can’t have a witness. No screaming.

Mary Alice Fraughton

Yes. The thing is, if it wasn’t our fault, that means we were powerless. And if we were powerless, we can’t stop it from happening again. I would far rather think that I did something - some stupid, easily avoidable thing - wrong than accept that I had no control. We are our own harshest critics, and with sexual assault there is no shortage of critics. I’m sorry these things happened to you.

Erika Blumberg

Anyone else have recurring dreams in which you try to scream but nothing comes out?

Bethany Olson

I also must immediately throw away these clothes and shower with scalding water. Everything I’m not supposed to do. No evidence. No noise. No acknowledgment. The only reminders are the recurring nightmares, generational trauma, and the STD I had to be treated for a week later.

Joni

But that I could... These are the words I've been searching for... It's not if... It's when, and how many times... And for so many reasons, we scream inside, hiding even from one another. I shared immediately, I HAD to share, I had to get it out there, I HAD TO SAY... what? What more is there to say when the poet is done and words all said? I had no words, they're drowned out by the screaming. I posted without comment. ✋

Alan Wilder

This is superb as always Amanda. It is simply abhorrent that this needs to be explained. It is abhorrent that a piece of shit like Trump gets a nationally syndicated “news” agency to allow him an hour of airtime to spout his misogynistic lies. And apparently people laughed at his derision of his accuser. WTF has happened to this country?

Joni

Yup, that and the one where you need to defend yourself and either a) you can't throw a punch or b) they land like feathers and have no effect.

Rebecca Brisbin

I barely had an emotional reaction when I watched this...please stick with me here. I have done a LOT of work...maybe being prepared for it made it easier to listen to. I think I've processed a lot of my trauma...but there was a time, before RAINN (I'm on the Speaker's Bureau and it is amazing), before I quit drinking...before I went through the last 2 years of intense trauma work and fought for my marriage because my husband will never fuck me if I'm crying and shut down, and he's the only person I've been with who cared about my wellbeing over his dick when we are intimate. (Like completely stops, pulls out of me, looks at me, says "you're not okay...what do you need from me right now? AND MEANS IT) Before the before the before when I wrote this song.... YELLLO MONARCH Well it’s an odd way that you loved me Guess I felt it in your kiss I can tell this bond is special Through bursts of raw violence I see the fire of hate Spill from your eyes I see our bed drenched in my tears I’ve never felt so dead inside Still haunts me all these years Twisted Shape-shifting Call it adapting Hard to heal When you say you love me What goes on through your head? I’m looking down the barrel Think fast girl, or your dead I feel like yellow monarch Burnt and smashed into the ground It smelled of something horrid But never made a sound Twisted Shape-shifting Call it adapting Hard to heal Twisted Dark thoughts growing Hard to heal But I can fix me Now I still long to peg a boy I can hurt real deep inside Cram a dick right up his ass Shatter his heart, his hope, his pride “I know you love it, you stupid whore I said take it all, you bitch I can tell you really love my cock By the way it makes you twitch.” Twisted Shape-shifting Call it adapting Hard to heal Twisted But I’m still growing Hard to heal I can fix me Twisted I know I’m twisted A little twisted I guess I’m twisted ***** Now, with a lot of therapy, I can honestly tell you I have done a lot of things I'm ashamed of to reclaim my power. It's fucked up...trauma...all of it. None of it makes sense. And I no longer feel the desire for retaliation...nor did I ever "peg a boy" in this way with displaced rage. Rape is wrong. Retaliation rape is wrong. ALL RAPE IS FUCKING WRONG. No, I didn't scream. I could hear his mom in the room next to us, his nephews watching tv in the living room...and him whispering in my ear as he covered my mouth "don't you dare scream...you wouldn't my mom to know what a little whore you are? You know she loves you...you don't want anyone to know....etc... thankfully, that tape stopped running on repeat after some trauma work last year. I was 17 when it happened. Now I'm 40. This shit affects you FOREVER. It fucks up every aspect of your life. Addiction, depression....and yes, we scream in other ways....long after everything....I could go on .... rape, molestation...we're trained not to scream from a young age....this is days, years of conversations that need to happen. I have spent my whole life trying to crawl out of a box made of the thickest soundproofing imaginable called trauma and it's fucking bullshit. Big loves, big hugs to everyone....seriously...share. Silence doesn't make it any less true. Sharing is how we bring it out of the dark and begin to absorb the light. It's so fucking important.

Rebecca Brisbin

Big loves...and same. My ex used my alcoholism against me to coerce me into threesomes with my friends. I just realized it was rape last year. We've been divorced for nearly 9 years. I wish I could hug you.

Julie Whelan

Thank you for this. I JUST started trauma work in therapy and the fear, shame, “it must be my fault” pops up so quickly. Thank you for your brilliant words. ♥️

Rebecca Brisbin

It's still a violation of your boundaries, of your personal space. It's not okay and I'm sorry this happened to you.

T Nonya

I fought. I cried. I screamed. It didn't matter. It happened anyway. When something triggers my CPTSD I feel the sensation of the walls under my nails. It's spooky. I am in therapy and nervous but hopeful to find my voice, and relieve the guilt I feel over "letting it happen". It's been 18 years. I guess my trauma is old enough to vote. I love you all, thank you for this space. Virtual hugs to all who want one.

Erika Blumberg

A new thought- I think some (mostly men) think a woman would scream bc that is the way rape is depicted in movies, mostly written, directed, and produced by men.

Carl Setzer

It wasn't your fault, Julie. May you find peace through your therapy journey.

Rebecca Brisbin

PS THANK YOU SO FUCKING MUCH FOR RIPPING THIS BANDAGE OPEN, I LOVE THIS ARTICLE. EVERY SINGLE VOICE MATTERS!!! I hope every victim gets to the point where they can say YES! THIS HAPPENED TO ME. YES! IT FUCKED ME UP! YES! I'M NOT OKAY, BUT GODDAMNIT I WILL BE!

Elizabeth Gunn

Thank you for posting this. Too many incidences in my twenties where I wasn't sure I remembered what happened or we were both drunk and silence was taken for consent and they all feel grey and iffy. There's some stuff that's so egregious I can recognize, but so much of it is murky. Sending my love to you, big hug.

Pamela Kirsch

Totally. So much work to still be done! One of my favorite jobs at a non profit was to teach a 40 hour rape crisis training to advocates who would help other survivors admitted to the hospital. And to connect them to free services and tell them their rights. I’ve also participated in trying to train the nypd on trauma informed interviewing but that was met with lots of resistance.

Evanthia Drakousis

It came on gradually. He started pulling my hair. I would stop and tell him to please stop. It hurts. I don't like it. Eventually, his hand would creep to the back of my head, his open palm, flush with my scalp, curling sinisterly in on itself with my beautiful hair in its grasp. Persisting. Sometimes rape happens midway through sex. Suddenly the tide turns and you are nowhere near the shore. The only thing you are thinking about is surviving through it.

Dianne Joy

The "let's get this over with as quickly as possible" part resonated with me. The shame for choosing that option...

Madison

I love this piece. I didn't screamed, either. But if you ever host a screaming workshop in Woodstock, I would absolutely drive 3.5 hours just to scream my heart out with you and everyone else who could attend. Best of luck with your upcoming Dresden Dolls shows! I'll be there in spirit. I love you ❤️

Laura Damone

When I was writing it I realized it was a violation of my boundaries and personal space. Thank you for your confirming reply.

Laura Damone

I’m so sorry this happened to you. The song you wrote is raw and explains your feelings and emotions beautifully. I’m glad Amanda made this a safe space for us to vent.

Kaisi Haarstad

Similar story here - it took years to come to terms with just accepting it happened. I hate how many people go through this.

Kaisi Haarstad

One moment you’re passing out drunk, the next in someone’s bed. Or couch. Or floor. Only brief flashes memory remaining. The prior active promise of safety, destroyed. The prior sober conversation verbally setting the boundary and confirming nothing would transpire, useless. After, the confusion. The gaslighting. Trying to piece it all together. Having everyone turn their backs because suddenly you’ve become, “Dangerously beautiful.” The kind who doesn’t stay silent. “You’re a porcelain doll,” they said. A plaything that breaks when touched. I’m no plaything, and I’m no longer broken, but there is one similarity; I couldn’t scream either.

Molly M. Halloran

I didn’t scream when I, at 12 years old, was assaulted by my 18 year old cousin, a person I loved and thought I was safe with. I didn’t scream. I didn’t even remember it happened for over 20 years. When I did remember, I thought it must’ve been a dream. My lifelong struggle with mental illness must now be planting false memories in my head. But I soon understood it WAS real. It DID happen. My struggle with PTSD (among other diagnoses) didn’t make the memory, the experience was one of many that caused the PTSD. And that’s when I screamed.

Rebecca Brisbin

Samesies,glad you're here. As I'm connecting more with my community at home, it's making it easier to connect with others everywhere.

Neil Brown

God bless you AFP, for being so open, honest and vulnerable. I can see that great art often arises out of great pain, but I am hopeful great healing may arise out of such gut-wrenching justifiable outrage. You are all loved and supported by anyone with human empathy and morals.

Carmen J

Tears... so many, tears. For every time... it happened to me. To others. Scream? I could barely think. The line was crossed and I was frozen in fear. I lived. I escaped. But no, I haven't spoken about many of those events. Now I sob silently... on my own. <3

Juliet Andrien

I married him, and found out later too too late that the careful listening, learning where my boundaries are (since I was so willing to try all the 'wild' stuff he could dream up, but there's always a line) was because (it turns out) the only thing that really gets him off is crossing them, pretending at first it's a heat of the moment accident then moving up to outright gloating about it when I don't stop him right away, stop everything and deal with the days or weeks of sulking and no affection as punishment so I go along as best I can like Charlie Brown with the fucking football maybe it won't be this time, maybe this time will be for me, maybe I'll manage to respect myself in the morning, maybe.

amandapalmer

YES. And this; “I am not ashamed of the noises my body did or did not make while it was being violated. I am not ashamed of the noises my body makes now, or the noises it will make tomorrow.” Is gold. May I share it??

T Nonya

Ah, hug back and now tears. Would that all our trauma get votes. They're more than deserving of that voice.

Superball

I was drugged at a small-town music venue. Fortunately I passed out on a bench there, where they found me at the end of the night and had me arrested for “public drunkenness.” Later a girl I knew said she’d been drugged there but had woken up in a bedroom at a party where she knew no one. (When she emerged, they asked her if she’d been “having fun in there.”) After covering bail and a parking ticket (because my court time was delayed long past when they said it would be), I got my case dropped only because I had dragged myself to the police station (still in bad shape two days later), to inquire about a missing camping-utensil set I’d had in my coat pocket—of sentimental value to the friend who bailed me out. I happened to ask if they’d tested me for being drugged when they’d arrested me. “No, we don’t do that.” I wrote a letter to the newspaper—not published or replied to. On the sheriff’s Instagram, when they bragged about their helicopter rescues, I replied with my story and asked if they might also look into rescuing people in less showy ways, instead of arresting them. Silence. My family thought I was drunk and deserved it. It was overall a beneficial experience because it opened my eyes to the injustice system in a way I hadn’t understood as viscerally before, but that shit needs to be completely dismantled and replaced with true justice. I’m not sure how to do it, but I suspect it has to do with true community, wherein wrongs are righted and lessons learned to the satisfaction of everyone involved and connected, rather than this bullshit “people of California” (as represented by the prosecuting attorney, who’s friends with the defense attorney, both of whom are churning through a long line of dazed-looking people in a windowless room as perfunctorily as possible) being against everyone as being guilty before proven innocent. Tl;dr: FUCK THAT SHIT.

Becky Ockuly

I never screamed either, but thankfully someone intervened before he could finish what he was trying to do to me when I was too drunk to even form words

Tara Roe

My mom was raped when she was a young girl. By a family member, but I do not know who as my mom would not tell me, but she confided in me and told me she was raped. Her parents and family did not believe her. She suffered from mental illness all through her adult life and while she was raising me. Back then, there was no Amanda Palmer to write too,no Judy Blume to write to. I'm shocked that she told me, but I'm glad that she did because she held it deep inside. So even though I couldn't do anything, it was a release for her to tell me. And that I am grateful for. We had a turbulent relationship, her mental illness and being reclusive made it difficult. She died 12years ago, and it was hard to loose my mother, but she was at peace, no longer suffering. When I think back to that night she told me about her rape, it was an important thing that I will never forget. Amanda, thank you for creating a safe space. I love you. Ps. Have you watched Forever Judy Blume documentary? I watched it last night. She is amazing. You are our Judy Blume!

Holly Saurus

I'm sorry that happened to you. You didn't deserve it. Mine withheld affection and kindness if I didn't have sex with him.

Rebecca Brisbin

I never saw the correlation before, but yes. I wonder if this is connect to the dreams where you’re running as hard and fast as you can, but your feet feel like their in quicksand.

Rebecca Brisbin

That moment when reality hits. When there’s a real reason for why you feel so off…and you realize you’re not actually crazy. Huge fucking hugs.

Rebecca Brisbin

What I also hate…and I’m double dipping because I talk about this stuff a lot, especially when granted an opportunity…there’s that part when you play shit through your head and you think that you’re a bad ass and have overcome everything, and then something happens and you realize there’s more work to do. I was in Vegas, vending at an event and walking with my friends down Fremont, after the festival had closed for the day. 2016 or 2017 I think. This guy walked up to me and grabbed my crotch, then disappeared into the crowd, walking backwards, locking eyes with me as if to say “I know what I just did and I want you to know I know”. I froze and I watched him disappear into the crowd like a boat lost in the sealine. My friends saw it too. “What the fuck just happened? Are you going to kick his ass? He’s right there. I got your back.” Their voices sounded so far away and as I watched his eyes disappear in a blur I shook my head and moused out, “no, it’s okay. He’s not worth it.” I didn’t know why I froze. I didn’t know that was a normal response to repeated boundary violations. Now I yell. Now I tell people to back up and not touch me. I file reports when General Foremans would brush up against me and I tell people it’s not okay to touch me without permission. I don’t care how crazy I look…but it’s still not all the time. I know I’m getting stronger and it’s important to keep going, but it’s so fucked and it makes me so angry that I was conditioned from birth to just be a fucking doll for other people’s pleasure with no consideration, no respect, and no nothing as to how their actions might affect me or others. It’s not fair and I’m so goddamn sick of being told “well Becka, the world just isn’t fair.” This shit damages good people with kind and gentle hearts and I fucking hate it.

Rebecca Brisbin

I'm sorry that happened to you. You certainly deserve to be loved for being a human being. You deserve to be treated with your safety and wellbeing above all, and you deserve to be loved simply for existing and not for what you can provide for another.

Els Van Haute

I did not scream when the uncle of my boyfriend pushed me down, kissed me and put his hand all over me. While my boyfriend was sitting in the same room. Afterwords he (the uncle) paid me 50 euro to keep my mouth shut. I did. I was ashamed. I was 15, now I am 44 and today I cried, I could not scream but I cried. Thanks Amanda for healing a little piece in my broken heart.

Els Van Haute

Yes, we were told we had to shut up and be polite and friendly. I am 44 and it still feels very uncomfortable to set my boundaries sometimes.

Jeremy-Alice

you cant scream. its so bad that you actually cant. and when you find that out, youre never ready. this hit so fucking deep. love and screamidarity, thank you, Amanda

Serena Di Mauro

I also wish I could hug you. You and all the people sharing their stories here and their love and support to one another. Thank you for sharing your story. Thank you for making me feel less alone.

Jo VanEvery

That was excellent. Poetry. Thank you.

Steven Panzek

Well said Amanda. I feel so sorry for you and all victims

Ruth Anne Arnold

I didn't scream any of those times that violation found my vulnerability. Then, I tried to warn people quietly, not to leave their drink unattended even with "friends" or how even the nicest person can suddenly turn out to be a predator when you don't give them what they want... or how if someone is breaking you down in one sense, it's only a matter of time before they get bored and ruin some other aspect of yourself until you're just a shattered pile of trauma that no one wants to deal with. What often hurts the most is when people do not give you even the slightest of considerations and the doubt has no benefit. "I would have xyz..." but there is no way to prepare for this stuff. You are usually caught off guard. Did I cause this? Did I ask for this? Should I have done something differently? Might as well let it happen or he might do something worse, right? I think the worst was my former boss saying "if someone was going to rape me, I would ask them to kill me because I'd rather die". I didn't know if she meant I should have killed myself or if she was oblivious to how many of us did not have a "cute fairy tale high-school sweetheart becomes our spouse" kind of scenario... I think it was the second part, but I didn't have the heart to tell a room full of my female coworkers and boss that I was in fact a survivor of assault of that nature and actually I'm quite happy to be alive and not physically ruined in any sense and even the mental part, well, I guess you learn to live with that. So I guess I didn't scream then either, even when the rage and disappointment oozed into my internal dialogue, settling into the cracks and crevices of my hidden and too too silent scars. Much love to anyone who read that blathering morning brain spew. Even more love to all my survivors-in-solidarity posting and supporting each other here. And as always thanks to AFP for giving people spaces to be human.

Ruth Anne Arnold

I had someone grope me on the subway and he did that weird eye contact thing too as he escaped out from the crowded car before I could even make a noise. he just looked back at me as he slipped out the doors before they closed again... No one else saw what happened and I was just mouth agape, and his eyes are burned into my memory. I'm sorry you had a similar situation but I'm relieved to know your friends were there for you. I'm even more happy you are growing and getting stronger even if I wish we didn't have to do this kind of shit routinely just for being alive.

Ruth Anne Arnold

My mom too, she passed about 7 years ago, and it was such a weird mix of feelings to know she was no longer suffering, but also that I barely had a connection with her because it was very difficult and she was dealing with trauma and severe mental illness that is to the level of complete disability. My mom was abused by her father first, which is pretty horrifying, but her mental illness made her vulnerable to a lot of horrible people so I really can't even fathom how much she really endured in her life that she never got to talk about. I don't think she screamed either. *much love*

Rebecca Brisbin

@Els I read “Unfuck Your Boundaries” earlier this year and it was a game changer…but boundaries are still so hard.

Rebecca Brisbin

@Ruth I am so sorry you had to experience this as well. It’s fucking bullshit. I don’t think it’s too much to ask to be able to live life without the fear or worry that anyone at any time can steal a slice of your power, and yet here we are…2023 and all over the world people are being treated like shit because an ounce of respect is too much to ask for and how fucking dare us for wanting our boundaries to be respected.

Rebecca Brisbin

I’m glad you didn’t kill yourself. Joining RAINN speakers bureau was what helped me to see a blessing in my experiences. It’s like I hate this shit happened to me, but because of it, I can help others because unfortunately and obviously, I’m not alone. It’s important that we are able to share and empower others to find courage to speak, because that shame is not our to take on. It never was to begin with.

Ruth Anne Arnold

What I find interesting is that while I did have plenty of moments of weakness where I really did feel like there was no point to living... but none of those moments were specifically due to the various SA/rape/abuse things I went through... usually it was just feeling completely isolated when the depression/anxiety hit critical mass... as I got older and found more sustainable ways to keep in touch with people even when distance was a problem I noticed I felt that way less often and tell someone immediately even when it's just a whisper. When I reflect on my SA-memories (whatever I have that isn't muddied by drugs or alcohol or the trauma itself blacking out chunks of my life), the last thing I ever thought was that I wanted to die. If anything, I was quiet or submissive or "frozen" because I did NOT want to die. My original rape/abuse scenario was exactly that... "if I just do this, he won't throw me down the stairs or push me off the roof or stab me with that kitchen knife he just found on the counter...." so self preservation is certainly wrapped up in the reasoning that occurs during such a terrible violation of our body and mind. Thanks for reading/commenting/connecting and for working with RAINN too as we all need to do what we can to show others they are not alone.

Anna Bruce

Why didn't I scream? Because that was the difference between just being raped and ending up dead. These fuckfaces want to over simplify everything, but its SO hard for them to understand that would have gotten me killed?! WTF..... I could have been dead if I had screamed in that moment, instead I get to live with those moments the rest of my life. We scream later, in safe spaces, if we are lucky with supportive friends.... but we DO scream, Trust us.

Dyce

I didn't scream, because it was my then-boyfriend. I cried, a lot of times, but he didn't care because he was a loser who finally lost his virginity and gained himself a girlfriend he could have sex with whenever HE wanted.

Anonymous

I did not scream. I could not register what was happening. It was an out of body experience. Now, knowing I’m autistic, I realise so much more about my vulnerabilities and how easily, how often, I have mistaken control for attention or affection. Virginia Woolf said a woman needs a room of her own in which to write. Thank you Amanda for being our voice, for giving us a room in which to scream.

Janie

Thank you so much for this! I feel like we all have so much to collectively learn about accountability... And how to share the screams that come later... and how to listen to each other. Thank you for putting it all out there, brave soul!

Anonymous

I didn't scream because I was a child and told we were playing a game called 'man hunt'! After that I didn't scream because my friends laughed when I was carried upstairs when I was trapped in a room and pinned to a bed then that night the same guy dropped a brick on my head. After that I didn't scream because I arrived at a party sober and ended up drugged in a shed no booze bt aff ma head. After that I didn't scream because I was alone and on my way home and it was just easier. I did however scream when a man slapped then tackled his girlfriend outside my flat window I did however scream when a woman was climbing out her 4th floor window to get away from her boyfriend who was beating her. I did however scream when a man a was pinning his girlfriend up against the County building across the street I do however scream for myself now And I will forever scream for those who need help.

Christina M

I didn’t scream because I thought him walking him home was just that, him walking me home. A sweet thing. Something to make me feel safe. I thought him asking for a night cap was him wanting to spend time with me. A nice thing. Maybe it would turn into something. Something good. Something good that I wanted. Thought he wanted to get to know me more. I thought his request to kiss me goodnight was just that, a kiss goodnight. But it wasn’t. It all wasn’t what I thought it was. It was a slow build up to making me think I wanted what he forced on me. Did I want it? Was there a silent queue I missed? I invited him home, didn’t I? I invited him in, didn’t I? I flirted all night with him, didn’t I? I let him kiss me, didn’t I? He told me I wanted it. He wanted me. He smiled at me and said yes, even when I said no. The casual disarmament and gradual build up made me think that I led him on. That my no’s meant nothing because the actions of all night spoke louder to him than my words. Then I had no words when the violence happened. And couldn’t scream.

Ria

I still scream at them in my dreams now, 18 years after it stopped. But no screaming at the time. Why would I have screamed when I was used to the debilitating sickening reality of my life. I’m so glad that little girl found joy of her moments alone in places deeply crowded with predators and neglect. She still found joy. Super-Fuck this lawyer man forever for telling someone when to scream. I gritted my teeth and bore it. And I’ll scream when you don’t expect it. Now fuck off forever.

Lindsey Lubow

I don't know if there's an official word for what happened to me, even after testifying in court... But I didn't scream. I had been 13 for under a month. I was in shock. My body was on autopilot, and kept doing what it had been... dancing. I was lucky- nobody blamed me. Given the absence of establishing criminal intent, it was a Not Guilty. I still wrestle with that part.Thankfully the judge addressed that at the time. Something to the effect of "We go by the law here, and the law requires criminal intent to render a guilty verdict. That said, this does not mean we do not believe these children. I think we all agree on what happened. Due to the nature of the case, I am increasing the public defender's fee."

Lindsey Lubow

It's taken a few decades to get to this point... but I ultimately think the judge did right by us all. Me, the other girl, and the adult man who made a few particularly terrible decisions in our presence.

Emily

Thank you Amanda. I work as a sa counsellor and so many women it is the first time they've ever told anyone. And the rate of sibling or intrafamiliar rape is very common. I am a survivor of SA too and your words are so powerful. I hate what is happening in our world and the apparent backlash to any 'gains' we made during metoo. Sending love to you and all survivors of all genders in this space/community. xx

darby porter

I didn't scream, i never screamed, told myself i was calm, and handling it, getting through it. What a crock of shit, i was disassociating (I'm not here, this isn't happening) like an out of body experience. And when it was done, and i was grateful it wasn't worse, cleaned off and told myself it must have been my fault

Joanne Scott

Me neither, I'm not sure my throat even knows how to. Instead of screaming, let's try to whisper, then speak, then raise our voices in an empty room, sing songs, alone, that convey what we feel. Then maybe we let it slip out in a room, with a person who is safe.

Joanne Scott

I never screamed for any of them. The one I wish I had screamed about was the first. My first kiss, drunk at 15, held up to a wall so I didn't fall, by one boy, then another and then back again. Hearing more from a friend than I remembered, only to berate me for kissing a boy she liked. Is it any wonder we don't scream, our first thought isn't shock, it's that this is normal. It takes a second to realise it isn't OK, then we stay silent so it's over faster, if we stay quiet, make ourselves small, it will all go away. And we make it go away after, push it down, down with all the rest of them. All those people, in a little box, locked up tight, with a lock activated by sound, by a scream.

Nico Padden

This. This this this this.

mary b merryman

thank you, again This work is So Important. This used to be a women’s issue, but it’s Not. It’s about power. The abuse of power, seeing other people as objects to play with and discard. The education about traveling at night in any city, when some of my worst experiences were in a wealthy, white-dominant suburb. I suggest we create safe spaces for ourselves and each other. The Abuser has less power when people tell each other to watch out, and please tell me if something goes wrong.

mary b merryman

I know you’re in the bay area tonight. I just couldn’t spend that much $$ on one night. I know you’re going to be great. I wish we could talk in person sometime. I’m going to a clean-and-sober dance benefit. It’s important for me to be in my community, and show people how to have fun without getting wasted

Jackie

In screamidarity 100%. Thank you for screaming so prominently. This piece of writing impacted me when you wrote it, and I'm thankful that it has come up again as I read through the End of Year State of All Things.