LorraineI am obsessed with the trial of E. Jean Carroll against Donald Trump for defamation. She is me and I am her. I remember the era of the Seventies through the Nineties in which we newly liberated women flirted...
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| Lorraine |
But we knew enough not to go to the police when we were raped. Because we heard the cops wouldn't take us seriously, we thought...well, maybe we shouldn't have worn "hot pants" to work, maybe we did flirt a little too much...maybe--well, the cops wouldn't believe us anyway. And who wanted to be picked over by not only the police, but the D.As who wouldn't bring a case to trial, and god knows, if they did, we knew the opposition lawyers would pick up apart.
So we carried on, as if...nothing had happened. We were women, we were strong.
That's the cool that E. J. emanates, and honestly I love that she's now tough enough to go to court and lay all this embarrassing stuff out there for the world to pick over. Her trial reminds me of the women I know who were found themselves in situations where they were raped because...to have not been there, at that time, with them alone...would have appeared racist. For myself, someone I had dated a couple of times--and told I didn't want to see anymore over the phone--ended up pounding on my apartment door after midnight, yelling: I know you're in there!! until I let him in. Then he wouldn't leave and I submitted to him. I even hate to admit this today. Why didn't I call the police instead of letting him in to stop the noise? Why didn't I keep him talking for another hour? Because in that moment I was afraid of him. I told myself for years it wasn't assault, but E. Jean's retelling of encounter encounter with the disgusting Donald Trump reminds me how I felt after my own very different encounter in that time: violated.
There's something else going on too that relates to giving up a child. So much blame and shame accrued to us as we came out of the experience. When E. Jean said on the stand people see you after as damaged goods, that is how I felt after that night, and most especially after I relinquished my daughter. Damaged Goods. I was damaged when I met my first husband, and I raced into that marriage to cover up the shame, to make myself feel better about myself, to gain some semblance of self-respect. I am all right today, I have carried on but I will take the guilt and sorrow and low self-esteem with me to the grave.--lorraine