Later, he was going to make breakfast for himself, and he asked if I wanted breakfast. I didn’t. So he made breakfast for himself. I drank coffee and talked to him while he ate. But he asked. We talked about the day, he asked if I wanted to go look at bikes with him. I did, but I had other plans, so I couldn’t. Same with the walk he offered me, with his mom, earlier.  He asked if I’d be around later to play with the girls after school. I will. On my way to run errands, the wo

Brock Turner was convicted of violently raping an incapacitated woman, but his father, Dan, thinks his loss of appetite is enough punishment. I’m a parent. I know what it’s like to worry, sometimes irrationally, about the horrors that could befall my kid. I have imagined everything from kidnapping to cancer, miscarriage to….. well, let’s just say that in my mind I have already nursed her through every injury, illness and personal tragedy that my very-creative mind can come up

It’s funny, the things that get you. We refer to our pasts as if they are a destination once passed through, accessible only by an intentional backtracking of emotional breadcrumbs, inhabited merely by ghosts and other transient, translucent entities. In fact, they are not so linear. I think it’s like RAM on a computer. Random Access Memory. A seemingly magical system of shortcuts that, when combined, allow bits of randomly-stored data to combine and deliver you some concrete

I have loved watching this SlutWalk phenomenon sweep the planet. I love it for a lot of reasons. I love anything that brings the discussion of people’s sexual individuality and autonomy to the forefront. And I love costumes, so there’s that. It makes me hopeful as the mother of a daughter who I hope will live in a world where she is both safe and free in her sexuality. As the daughter of a gay man, I know what it is like to be afraid that someone I love will be victimized sim

As I’ve discussed a zillion times, I was raped the summer after I graduated from high-school. Not just raped, but stalked, so it was personal, not random. Further, he knew when I was home, broke into my home when I was asleep and went straight to my room, to my bed, to take what he wanted. Which was me. With his gloved-hand over my mouth, I was silenced. With a gun at my head, I was helpless. As someone with no physical power at that moment, I was raped. This is not a sob sto

Twenty-three years ago – when I was 17 and had just graduated from high-school – someone broke into my house while I was sleeping, came into my bed, climbed on top of me, held a gun to my head and raped me. My father was asleep down the hall and my two cats were doing whatever it is that cats do in the middle of the night. The man who was raping me told me that if I yelled, or made any attempt to look at him, he would kill my father and my two cats. And then me. I did not yel

Sexual assault is a scary topic – for both parents and children. But, talking about it is one step towards both prevention and healing. Talking about it provides an opportunity to discuss boundaries and safety with your children, and offers an opportunity to remind your children that you are there for them when they need you. It also removes shame and stigma, to some extent. Remember that, in general, we hid things that we are ashamed of, so openly discussing rape with childr

I was just perusing the blogs on Blogher.org, and there was a post from a member stating the obvious and shameful truth that no one talks about rape. And it’s true. And when it is discussed, it is discussed in hushed tones, whispered in ears with fingers slyly pointing in the general direction of someone seen as a victim, “she was raped, you know.” People don’t talk about it. And when they do it is with fear. It is as if it is contagious. And if we just don’t say it out-loud,