Discussion: For Radicals -- Because Rape Happens In Our Communities

This is an anonymous letter to the radical/anarchist/revolutionary community.

I can\'t sleep. I don\'t feel safe in this body. I don\'t feel safe in this skin, in my sexuality, inside. I feel like a sickness is inside me. Like I don\'t want to be female. Like I don\'t want to be of sexual organs. Like I don\'t want to be present in myself because it hurts too much. I don\'t want to be present in this body.

I have loved this body, I have treasured it. I have created safety in it with disregard to all I have been taught: taught that female is secondary, taught that female is less strong, less important, less valuable, desposable. I have loved with this body. Loved myself in it and loved others. Ridded myself of doubts in it. And I have felt strong. And
now I can\'t sleep. I am forcing myself to eat. I want to reach in and rip out my sexual organs and not have any so that I cannot be sexual or seen as sexual. I do not ever want to be sexualized again unless I ask to be.
I do not want to be thought of as sexual. I do not want to be touched. I cannot even touch myself without cringing. My head hurts and my back aches and I think I have a vaginal infection. My eyes hurt from lack of sleep. And I want to be held but do not feel safe being touched.

I have made my home the temple of my spirit, made my body the temple of my heart and my soul. These safeties have been made irrelevant. My space and boundaries disrespected. My wishes put aside. And now I have to deal with the fact that I don\'t feel safe sharing this in my own fucking bullshit revolutionary community. That I have to be so cautious and pick and choose who I share this with so no one who will judge me or my actions knows about it. Yeah, I invited him into my home, my space. So I must have wanted him to fuck me in the first place, right? And if I wanted him to fuck me and then he fucked me in a way I said no to, didn\'t I cause this in some way? And if I didn\'t cause this and he fucked me in a way I said no to, what the fuck am I suposed to make of this supposed community I do not now feel safe in? And I had created this space for myself within this community in the name of communication and love and compassion and trust and the earth. And why am I left with nothing? Why do I feel completely empty? I feel like a shell. A numb composite of
flesh that is worthless and unnecessary and has no voice. I have no voice. I cannot speak. Like I\'m yelling but no one can hear me. Like I\'m yelling so loud everyone in my neighborhood should hear but really, it\'s silent. There are no sounds coming from this mouth. Even though I am yelling so loud. This boy who fucked me in a way I said no to certainly cannot hear. To him I have no voice. To him my politics were just a tool to use against me, to find power over me, through. To him fucking me in a way I did not consent to was a way to take power over me in the face of
all my strength. To him I never had a voice to begin with, to him I might as well have never existed but as a weak, nothing, body. I wonder if while he was fucking me like that he would have even been able to tell me what my name is. And in a supposed revolutionary, liberational community, I do not feel safe sharing this in any way but anonymously. For fear judgement. For fear someone asking me what I did or how I participated or did I think I had made myself just clear enough. I fear I will be scrutinized in the same ways that made me not call the fucking cops. And where does this leave us? With the fact that we are at the bottom. That we do not know shit and pretend to know everything. That it is not just the men in my community I fear sharing this with but the women as well, because how could this happen to one of their sisters is not a question I want to fucking hear. This leaves us in a place where we have a fucking lot of work to do and need to fucking stop whining about whatever made us
sad that day and deal with the fact that people are dishonest and this world is a cruel, cruel place and really for the most part we are fending for ourselves when we need that community most and see then that it barely exists.

Rape is a reality. I experienced it this weekend. And I have five people in my immediate community I feel safe enough with to ask for help. How fucked up is that? So much for a fucking network. Because everyone else will question my motives, or my actions, or get angry because of their
own histories/herstories and use that anger for themselves and not for me and my wishes. Because I want to hold this boy accountable, not just fuck him up or or fuck up his house or fuck up his car. Because I want to feel safe in my home again and avoid any repercussions of using my voice I am trying to find the strength to rebuild right now. Because even my best friend wanted to know who he was and envisioned a tall big man lurking in the bushes and my face bloodied and had a hard time picturing a not too big punk boy who I can now call my rapist because he fucked me in a way I
did not consent to, no matter what I did or did not consent to initially, or did want, or did enjoy. Because how many of you are sitting there right now asking yourself these same questions. Because how many of you are sitting there right now trying to figure out who I am and if you know me instead of hearing me. Because I could be anyone, I could be any of
the women in your community. I could be any of the women you know and for all intensive purposes am every woman you have ever not trusted or questioned or judged when she has met harm. For the purpose of how I feel right now, you could just as well consider me every woman you know. For I could be her: unsafe in my home, unsafe in my body, unsafe in my
womanhood, unsafe in my sexuality, unsafe in my community.

I am scared. I am scared to feel and scared to leave my house. Over forty hours went by before I got dressed. I\'m too uncomfortable and too scared to sleep. I have cramps. I feel a nausea I cannot shake. I feel cold, numb, nothing. And on the surface there is a sadness. And on the surface I will act like I am fine so no one asks me if I am okay. Because I can\'t hear that right now. Over twenty-four hours went by before I ate a full meal that I had to make myself put into my body. And you all are busy arguing about authoritarianism and consensus and political ideologies.