As Christine Blasey Ford, PhD, still scarred by a violation that happened decades ago, faces the full force of Republican rape culture unleashed, even with lots of supportive people around her, she may still feel very alone in her fate.
She isn’t.
Because I am Christine Blasey Ford, too.
Except Brett Kavanaugh was my father. He sexually abused me frequently from when I was 11 to when I was 19. He told me if I told anyone my mother would have a heart attack and my family would be destroyed, so that was a death threat even if the death wasn’t mine. Part of my growing up was training myself in how to keep silent, never show a sign, never let anything slip.
I, too, am Christine Blasey Ford.
The guy seemed nice, clean-cut and heading for law school and ambitious to be a Supreme Court judge, so I agreed to go on a date with him. He put some of that stuff in my drink.
I am Christine Blasey Ford.
Even though I’m a man. Everyone in the wrestling club, including the other coaches, knew about Coach Kavanaugh, but no one ever said anything. It hurt and made me feel this >< tall and I thought it was part of being on the team.
I am Christine Blasey Ford.
But I reported what happened to the police back then. They demanded to know what I was doing there, what was I wearing, had I been drinking, how could I say something like this about handsome Brett, the captain of the football team who did the whole town proud. And laid no charges.
I am Christine Blasey Ford.
All the other women at work whispered to me, “Don’t let yourself be alone with Mr. Kavanaugh,” as if I can refuse to do what my boss says. I need my paycheck, I need my health insurance. One night I had to stay late after everyone else was gone, and, oh, just by coincidence, so did he.
I am Christine Blasey Ford.
Uncle Brett was a family “friend.” I was eight. My little brother was five. We are both on the autism spectrum, not articulate enough to give evidence. We will never know how many others he did it to.
I am Christine Blasey Ford.
At the teen pageant President Kavanaugh kept coming into the dressing room while we were changing. They told me I was headed to a modelling career because I am so beautiful, and I had to meet key people. The place was really fancy. They filled me full of booze and drugs and passed me from man to man.
I am Christine Blasey Ford.
I am seven and I was torn away from my Mami at the border, and no one tracked where I went because they had no plan to reunite me with her. Instead they quickly flew me on a plane to a big city where a big tough-looking man named Bretto threw a towel over my head and pushed me and four other Cristinas into a car. No one who cares what happens to us knows where we are now.
I am Christine Blasey Ford, indirectly.
My mom was raped and in her pain she couldn’t love well, which messed me up.
I am Christine Blasey Ford.
Except I will never come out against my rapist, even though he’s a Supreme Court nominee, because what he did to me so broke me that I turned to booze and drugs and slowly killed myself. Or quickly, with sleeping pills or a gun or by slitting my wrists.
I am Christine Blasey Ford.
I am taking this stand because I have strength beyond what I could have imagined back before it all went down.
It is the strength of sheer naked hang-on-by-teeth-and-toenails survival.
And then, of necessity.
So come after me, filthy GOP smear merchants, rumour-mongers and death-threateners.
I’m also Christine Blasey Ford, so come after me.
And me. And me. And me.
I am Christine Blasey Ford and I am millions. Worldwide, billions. Come after every single one of us, you puling coward rape-culture Republican Kavanaughs and Kavanaugh enablers. We dare you.
The legion of Christine Blasey Fords knows how many we are, now.
And we are united.
And wherever you are, nominated for the Supreme Court or sitting in the Oval Office or preening in the Kremlin or dominating a thousand corporate boardrooms... be afraid. We know you are. Your stooge in the Oval Office totally gives it away.
Because in our masses we are all Christine Blasey Ford.
And, arm-in-arm with our most powerful ally, the Rule of Law, we are coming after you.
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(Note: one of the above stories is mine, KM Wehrstein’s, and another happened to someone close. But it doesn’t matter which, because they all happened.)
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