Why survivors tell their stories online
On 15 October 2017, actress Alyssa Milano tweeted: ‘if you’ve been sexually harassed or assaulted, write “me too” as a reply to this tweet.’ The floodgates opened.
The pervasiveness and scale of the sexual harassment, assault and violence women around the world have faced sent shockwaves through society, and the drama of Dr Christine Blasey Ford’s testimony against Brett Kavanaugh made international headlines. Indeed, few women can assertively say they’ve never been sexually harassed (in any way), yet data shows 95 percent of sexual assault survivors don’t report their experiences. Not officially, anyway.
They don’t turn to the police; they turn to the internet.
Even though false reports are extremely rare, there is such entrenched suspicion of sexual assault complainants that survivors unsurprisingly choose to avoid it. Negative experiences, along with the high attrition rates of sexual violence cases in the criminal justice system, explain why sexual harassment and rape remain underreported globally.
Instead of being blamed, not being believed, or having their experience questioned and invalidated, survivors are disclosing their experiences to communities and support networks online. They may write their stories on personal blogs or shared them with communities such as Project Unbreakable on Tumblr (a space for survivors to share images of themselves holding a paper sign detailing the narrative of their abuse, without naming the perpetrator), the sub-reddit r/rapecounseling (a rape survivor community forum), or on the website Pandora’s Aquarium. There’s the ubiquitous #MeToo on Twitter, but also #BeenRapedNeverReported to allow victims to collectively and publicly share why they didn’t report.
The most important reason people share online? They find a supportive community. Victims and survivors crave emotional support and to have their experiences validated. r/rapecounseling offers anonymity and a safe space for those feeling too vulnerable or fearing ramifications if they report ‘in real life’—for those who are isolated or still trapped in an abusive relationship, anonymity may be the only way they can access support.
Suddenly, women with no recourse for safe disclosure in the real world have somewhere and someone (many someones) to turn to. Reddit is a social networking platform that prioritises interaction in smaller groups—the subreddits. There’s a subreddit for everything, from the mundane to the innocuous to the fandom to the support networks.
If you can’t approach a friend, family member or professional, you can find r/rapecounseling on your phone. You can access support at any time, anywhere—and not only can you (finally) get your story off your chest, but you can get instant emotional support and validation. Users express solidarity through comments and treat each other with mutual support and consideration. They share their own experiences, and express gratitude to each other for taking the time to read their posts—they care about each other. The support is uncomplicated; there’s no victim-blaming, no disbelief, no consequences. Instead, there’s solidarity and validation.
Where else would someone get the opportunity to tell their story completely and free from judgment? Where else could they be properly heard? The anonymity protects the survivor and the storytelling offers a certain justice—the justice of being heard. Traditional responses to rape, particularly in the criminal justice system, a therapist’s office or a police interrogation room, create a prescriptive narrative. There are certain (necessary) questions to ask; certain roads of inquiry to pursue; certain responses to a report a police office, therapist or lawyer will have heard countless times. Online, there’s no script. You have complete control over your story, your own voice and your own way of telling it. Even if no one engages with your post, this could be the only time you feel you’ve shared your experience properly. If nothing else, no one can interrupt you online.
Some people find the courage to shirk anonymity and use platforms where they can be easily identified. Tumblr users share photos of themselves with signs—while they may not necessarily provide their names or identifiable information, their face will live in the annals of the internet forever. There’s a sense of making your experience personal when you share your face; a way of connecting to your story a little more and a way of helping others relate and find the confidence to share. It’s another form of validation and again, a way of tapping into a support network. While Tumblr remains an open blogging platform, those sharing to Project Unbreakable are specifically posting there—while they’re publicly sharing, they’re not publicly declaring. They are engaging with a community, not the whole world.
The next step up is Twitter. There is very little anonymity here and the courage of those who responded to Alyssa Milano’s tweet should not be understated. It was this courage that led to the Time’s Up movement, to the conversation turning to the prevalence of sexual harassment, and to the Brett Kavanaugh’s Supreme Court nomination coming into very public question. Users don’t need to share all the details of their experiences like they tend to on Reddit—they can express solidarity in 140 characters, or even just one hashtag: #MeToo. Twitter offers a lens of recognition and allows survivors to create a collective identity (as was so clearly evidenced by #MeToo) while empowering the individuals through recognition and validation.
Where formal systems and structures fail them, social media and online communities offer survivors a sense of justice and much-needed support. Though it may be far more public, by sharing online, survivors are reporting in a way that lends them control and won’t silence them. A rape case is extremely likely to fall out of the court system, but a Tweet isn’t going anywhere if you don’t want it to.
In the United Kingdom, the United States, and Australia, one in five women will experience sexual violence in their lifetime but 95 percent of survivors don’t report their experiences. Not officially, anyway.