I Was Jane Doe
The horror story around Jane Doe and Cornell triggered a lot of old feelings and memories for me. I’ve been attacked by men more than once in my life. And I’ve stayed silent. Because it was what I was coded to do, by culture, the bro club, and the world around me.
The first time I was twenty something. I'd been out on a date that ended early. I’d gone to meet my friends who were out dancing at our favorite club. We left around one a.m. and I headed to my car in a parking lot close to the dance club. As I walked through the lot, three guys jumped me. They threw me to the concrete and I hit my head so hard I almost went out. By the time I started to fight, they had my dress up, my panties off, had me rolled over on my belly and the first one was finishing his rape as the second began to push his way in. The third sat on my back with his hands shoving my face into the concrete and held me down as he egged the others on. I started kicking at them and trying to crawl away. My body refused to work. Everyhing had gone numb.
I heard guys yelling and footsteps running toward me. My first thought was it was more of them coming. But then my rapists took off and I heard a guy chasing after them. A different guy came closer and softly told me they were gone. He stayed with me, gradually came closer and asked if he could touch me. He helped me roll over, trying to avert his eyes as he helped me get myself up and my clothes back on. They both propped me against the tire of a car, trying to find the source of all the blood, which turned out to be a cut in my scalp that took 18 stitches, much later. I just sat there wailing, rocking back and forth, arms wrapped around myself.
I don't remember much before the police showed up, other than the kindness that those young guys showed me. Don't remember much about the conversation with the cop either, except him asking me what I expected, given that I had been drinking and was dressed like I wanted it.
I've never told another soul about it, until this post. I stayed silent because I was so ashamed. All I could think about was how much it would hurt my mother if she ever thought that I had encouraged men in that way.
I didn’t file a report. I couldn’t face any more of those accusations and condescending judgements. It took me a long time to stop blaming myself. As I write this I’m wondering if a deeply buried part of me may still believe that cop was right.
That’s how strongly our self-blame coding is. I didn't realize I had a choice other than to blame myself. I carried that night silently and alone. Until now.
Jane Doe gave me the courage to share what I’ve feared to mention for decades. I want to hug her and protect her from an onslaught that is happening and is still to come. I want to tell her she’s not alone.
We are all Jane Doe.
We Have Had Enough
Jane Doe bravely filed her suit and shared her horror story. In a digital instant, thousands of women flooded social media with three words. I am Jane Doe. Not just in support of her. With confessions of their own. Story after story, pouring out of women who had carried their silence for years, decades, lifetimes.
How many of us carried our stories in silence for our entire lives? How many of us blamed ourselves because we were coded to do just that? How many of us never even considered speaking, because speaking was too dangerous for our futures?
Speaking up never seemed like a choice before. The blowback, the blame, the side looks. The coding running our minds ran exactly as designed. It silenced us.
No more. We have had enough.
We are done being coded to suffer in silence. The rise of miscreants and misogyny are raising our voices in protest. We are not taking the blame for their abuse any more.
It’s a critical shift at a critical time.
We are ditching our submissive coding just as the manosphere’s algorithmic machine is programming men to believe one truth: that women exist for male consumption.
Our Rise is Not a Coincidence
As the manosphere seeks to drive us backward in time, women are rising.
We are refusing to accept the barbaric excuse that “Boys Will Be Boys.”
We never deserved any of it. The horrific debasement. The self-blame. The silence.
We are standing up and speaking out.
We will never go back.