Sidelights | #MeToo: A Survivor's Confession, Guarding the Courage to Change

The #MeToo movement has swept the globe, with countless women bravely stepping forward to share their experiences, and this tide of courage continues to rise. As a survivor myself, watching the various public discourses online often brings back that deeply painful past I would rather forget.

"Why didn't you run away?", "Why didn't you call the police?", "Why didn't you fight back?", "Didn't you foresee what might happen?" Such skepticism floods the internet. What I want to say is that cases of acquaintance sexual assault around us are far more numerous than you might imagine. At that time, I was only 21 years old and incapable of processing so much. After vomiting twice, my strength to resist gradually faded away. Facing such a situation, I still have not completely emerged from the shadows to this day. In reality, I was unable to do much evidence collection, nor did I even have the thought of doing so. While society emphasizes gender equality, women are still frequently devalued.

My biggest confusion at the time was: if I dared to make this incident public, what consequences would I have to bear? Although I am the victim, why should I carry the shame? Even if I called the police, justice might not necessarily be served, yet it could ruthlessly expose everything about me to the public eye. In the absence of surveillance footage, even someone like me without a legal background knew that a mere he-said-she-said testimony could not prove much. Perhaps the price of my sacrifice would be even heavier, only to end up with nothing in the end.

After the incident happened, I washed my sheets again, washed my body again, as if doing so could simultaneously wash away the filth on my soul. And to this day, having become a so-called adult, looking back at my initial choice, I still lack the courage to tell others everything about myself to protect myself from being the subject of casual gossip.

On the day the seminar ended, I pulled the speaker aside to a quieter place because, deep down, there was still a voice inside me. I had checked the statute of limitations stipulated by the law and knew that the prosecution period had not yet expired. That seminar felt like a stone thrown into a silent lake; I briefly explained the situation to the speaker, and her response was as I expected: the chances of success were exceedingly slim. Perhaps due to the grievance buried deep in my heart, for some unknown reason, I asked again. Ripples spread across the lake once more, only to slowly subside and return to stagnant water.

Upon learning of my plan to become a social worker, the speaker offered words of encouragement. She believed that, as someone who had been through it, I could excel in this field. Yes, a chaotic past led me into the world of social work. The reason was as she said: because I felt that only by experiencing certain pains can one truly understand others. Since I am already covered in scars, why not do something meaningful? However, this raises another question: while I am working hard to save others, who will come to save me?

"We are survivors!" — 13 Reasons Why

Rewatching 13 Reasons Why, the male and female victims in the show loudly shout "We are survivors!" The opening warning states that if you have relevant experiences, it is best to watch with a trusted friend or family member—a warning that is entirely appropriate. However, despite relying on antidepressants, I still feel heartbroken. Can we really be considered survivors? Then why is my medication dosage constantly increasing? I think this show is not aimed at those with similar experiences, but rather for those walking alongside us. I deeply resonated with the scenes of secondary trauma portrayed; although the contexts differ, the wounds are the same. The word "survivor" may have two interpretations: one is positive, meaning I survived by overcoming adversity; the other is more passive, meaning I am barely hanging on while trying to escape sleepless nights. Unfortunately, I belong to the latter.