Survivors build a website aimed at breaking the silence and moving forward.
A few months ago, a friend of mine reached out to her Facebook friends to ask if any of us were survivors of rape or sexual assault and would be willing to share our stories for a project she was developing called AfterWords. Remembering my experience of being sexually assaulted at age eight by a camp counsellor, I agreed to join her project and am so glad that I did. As a queer-identified, mostly female-identified person, I have often wondered how the many intersecting pieces of my identity impact one another.
Common rhetoric would have me believe that my assault at the hands of a male-bodied person has had a causal effect on my sexual orientation. I firmly believe that this is not true, but do think that it has changed the way that I relate to social norms surrounding gender and power dynamics. Even though the process of dealing with the ramifications of my own experience with sexual assault, I hadn’t quite worked through all the details of these complicated and overlapping aspects of my self-concept.
That’s where AfterWords comes in. As a resource that is beneficial to contributors and readers alike, it serves a function that in my life was yet unfulfilled. While I have shared my story in conversation with some friends, something about the intentionality of putting it on paper has proven to be incredibly cathartic and clarifying for me. I have also been keeping up with the new pieces from other contributors, and have found that in many ways, their experiences help me to frame my own in the broader conversation about sexual violence.
The platform is unique for a number of reasons. First, the contributions focus on life after rape or assault, instead of on the event itself. Instead of the oft-shared pictures of women holding signs with quotes from their attacker (which are certainly useful in their own way), AfterWords allows both authors and readers to move beyond the experience and focus on the healing process. Second, it puts the conversation about rape and sexual assault back into the hands of women instead of forcing them to fit into the narrative that is portrayed in the media.
Lastly, but certainly not least importantly, AfterWords provides a safe place to build community with other survivors of sexual violence. The breadth of stories and the wide (and continuously increasing) variety of experiences of the contributors means that any reader is likely to feel connected in some way. For LBPQ women and straight women alike, AfterWords has the potential to change the way we think about life after rape or sexual assault, and I am proud to be a part of it.
Follow AfterWords here:
- Twitter: @AfterWordsBlog
- To contribute to AfterWords click here
