Skip to main content

Me too. But some of you already knew that.

Coincidental with my Class of 68’ 50th high school reunion, the reports of Republicans bullying Dr. Christine Blasey Ford, who question her memory of the attempted rape by Supreme Court nominee, Brett Kavanaugh, it has thrown me into a bit of depression. I’ve been triggered.

I am here, in a motel room in San Jose, California, where in an hour my high school reunion is to take place.

Earlier this afternoon I drove to the two location where I was sexually abused and raped. I  remember all the details. I may not know the name of my attackers, but my body and brain remember how it felt to be force to masturbate a man who was one of my paper route customers. I was 12 years old.

I resist to compulsion to go wash my hands for, God only knows, the millionth time.

Then there was the rape when I was 15 years old. Someone who purported to want to help me audition as a rhythm-guitar player in a garage band and had offered to drive me to a house in Willow Glen, a neighborhood in San Jose. But he had other plans. He took me to his apartment and, well, it happened.

I do not know the names of the two predators. But I remember what they looked like. I would not be able to pick them out in a line up if my life depended on it, but I can draw you the floor plans of their apartments.

I drove to each of the crime scenes today and took pictures of the outsides. The abuse took place in a 2nd storey apartment—number 33. And the rape took place two miles away in a downstairs unit, G6.
I will keep the street names secret.



I’ve detailed these two events in my book, so I won’t get into the details here.

I felt compelled to write this post because the sheer stupidity of those who are suggesting Dr. Ford’s memory should not be trusted is beyond words. Anyone who has been a victim of a sexual assault remembers.

I remember with painful detail.

#metoo


Comments

  1. My prayer is that the day will come when the person who suffered at someone else's hands will be listened to with respect and understanding. Just because some details are lost and others are etched in our minds doesn't mean it didn't happen. Even in good times which we try to remember, there are gaps. Why the ultra-right can't or won't understand this truth of memory gaps and listen with understanding, I will never know. Prayers for your strength.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

“You can ride on my lap.”

Added a Postscript at 8:00 p.m. PDT on April 25, 2018 Five years ago I spent a week in Fort Lauderdale to attend a trans-related medical symposium. One of the highlights of the event was meeting Jazz Jenning and her mother in person. Jazz is the well-known trans girl who became famous when Barbara Walters interviewed her in  2008 at the age of five. The other highlight was spending each night with my first cousin, Carlos, and his wife, who live in Ft. Lauderdale. Carlos drove me to the airport on Tuesday for my return trip to Vancouver, via Chicago. Seconds after he drove away my phone vibrated. It was a text message from United Airlines telling me my 4:15 flight to Chicago was delayed until after 7:00 p.m. I entered the airport and went to the United counter. I told them I had a problem. I was scheduled to catch a connecting flight to Chicago for Vancouver about the same time I would be boarding my plane in Ft. Lauderdale.  There were no later flights from Chicago to Vanco

Paradox = Father’s Day for a trans woman.

It seems innocent enough, to have a day to celebrate fatherhood, paternal bonds, and the influence of fathers in society. The Salazar family, summer 2002. If one’s relationship with their father was a good one, this day of honor will seem completely appropriate and welcomed. If your dad was not deserving of this kind of respect, then this yearly reminder could be extremely painful. Equally, if you’re a trans woman who fathered children, this day can either be a good or a bad—if not surreal—experience. It all depends on the kind of relationship you now have with your children. Father’s Day is extremely painful when your children have rejected you and want nothing to do with you. As far as they are concerned, you might as well be dead. It hurts. However, If your relationship has survived, then you can count yourself extremely lucky. I was fortunate on two counts. On one hand, I had a dad who was loving and, best of all despite his relative old age when I came ou