A rape survivor’s open letter to Rep. Todd Akin

A SYTYCB Entry

When Rep. Todd Akin said that pregnancy cannot occur after a “legitimate rape,” I lost it, as any decent person would. I saw it first on Twitter, and immediately started tapping out the first of what I thought would be a series of very, very aggressive tweets to @RepToddAkin.

But I never hit send. I took a deep breath. I reminded myself that basic science refutes his horrid assertion, and that most people are as shocked as I am that Rep. Akin actually went there. But then I thought about my rape. I thought about how few people know about it, and how frustrating it is that I still feel a tinge of fear when I feel like discussing it openly.

Too often, when rape comes up in the news cycle, either a new report of assault or something more general as in this case, we get everyone’s names and opinions save for the victim’s. Though there are good reasons for this–privacy and protection from speculation and stigma–the result is an unintended erasure of the people rape actually affects. We are silenced again and again and again, and personally, I am tired of not being counted and not being heard.

I realize I’m sort of preaching to the choir here, which is why I wrote this letter to Rep. Todd Akin. Despite claiming he’s  “even known some women who have been raped” today, Akin clearly has never talked with a rape survivor about the realities of her experience. I seriously doubt anyone, even someone as ignorant and backwards as Akin, would find it easy to say to a rape survivor’s face that pregnancy isn’t possible after “legitimate rape.” So Mr. Akin, please, just hear me out.

Dear Rep. Akin,

My name is Amelia Harnish. A little over a year ago, my life was turned upside down when I was attacked by a man I do not know. He threatened my life, and then he raped me. I thought I was going to die. When he finally left, I called the police immediately (actually, first I called my mother, who lovingly gave me the courage to call the police). In the emergency room, a rape kit was administered by the most compassionate nurses the world will ever know. It takes very special people to do these examinations. I was terrified, still reeling from possibly the most traumatic thing I will ever experience, but I knew I was safe with them. I am eternally grateful that my future was in the hands of caring medical professionals rather than politicians like you.

After the examination, I was given Plan B, also known as the morning after pill, a medication that prevents pregnancy after unprotected sex or in my case, after rape. It is a medication you believe should be banned. Because of swift action on my part and the part of doctors and nurses, I never had to face the choice between aborting a pregnancy brought forth by my rapist’s hate or carrying for months an unwelcome reminder of my rape, a fetus that would grow into an unwanted child that I would not have the desire or ability to care for. I view this as a victory, a small one in comparison to the many, many hurdles I would face as I rebuilt my life. But still, it was a victory. It was the first step I took to recover control over my own body.

I am writing today because I want to remind you that when you talk about rape you are not talking about some statistically improbable thing that only happens every once in a while to people who are bad. It is something that happens daily to normal women, children and men, too. It is obvious that no one has ever taken the time to explain to you the realities of rape or even the reality that pregnancy occurs when a man’s semen ends up in a woman’s body, whether she wanted it to or not. Let me be clear: my rape did not result in pregnancy or abortion not because of unspecified, unknown mechanisms of my female body. No, it was modern medicine that allowed me to sidestep this fate. Maybe I never would have become pregnant, since not every instance of unprotected sex, with or without consent, results in pregnancy. But thankfully, I will never know. The comfort and reassurance that pill offered in a time of absolute uncertainty, fear and pain cannot be underestimated.  Also, it is important to note that if my rapist had also been my boyfriend, my husband, my uncle, or some guy I met through a friend or at a bar, the circumstances would have been exactly the same. In fact, most rapes (73 percent, according to the Rape, Abuse & Incest National Network) are committed by someone known to the victim, which doesn’t make them any less “legitimate” or destructive to the woman. It also doesn’t reduce the chances of pregnancy.

I understand it is the issue of abortion and the well-being of the unborn you are most worried about. Well, I’d also like to make clear that had I not been offered a preventive pill, had I become pregnant, I would have likely aborted the fetus. While I wholeheartedly support your right to oppose abortion, to decide for yourself when life begins, I am requesting that you offer me and every other woman, rape survivor or not, the same respect. The decision to end a pregnancy is a complicated one. To frame the issue against your values and circumstances alone–when you yourself will never be at-risk for pregnancy no less!–and then to back it up with absolute lies at the expense of the victims of such a heinous crime…That is the definition of willful ignorance, small-mindedness and maybe even hate.

You have apologized, I know. You say you misspoke. But your voting record says otherwise. I cannot accept your apology until you make amends with every single woman who has ever had to worry that her fate will be decided by a rapist or by a politician who cares more about micromanaging the contents of her uterus than the value of her life. It might take a long time. There are a lot of us out here. But you can start by scheduling a few meetings with the people you intend to make decisions for. Maybe if you opened your ears to our stories you would begin to understand why abortion is often a necessary choice for women. Maybe if you heard us talk about the horrors we’ve experienced you wouldn’t wish that we’d carry a constant reminder of them to term. Maybe you’d stop pretending we don’t exist or we don’t matter. Then maybe you’d start to see the value in our well-being, in our lives. Based on your recent remarks, I think you’d be surprised to see how much I, a woman and a rape survivor, contribute to society beyond the capabilities of my uterus.

Your colleagues have requested that you step down from your race for Senator, and I hope that as I write this you are planning to do so. I do not see how someone with your worldview is fit for office in the 21st century. But whether or not you continue on in politics, I encourage you to refrain from offering opinions on things you know nothing about.

Sincerely,

Amelia Harnish

Disclaimer: This post was written by a Feministing Community user and does not necessarily reflect the views of any Feministing columnist, editor, or executive director.

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