Why I didn’t report

I did report that first time, fearing it could happen to someone else. The policeman told me “You shouldn’t walk around like that – all hair and legs, or stuff like that’s gonna happen.” That was the last time I reported it in spite of other incidents. The response to Dr. Blasey has been so triggering for so many who have been through this experience. One thing that jumps out for me is the difference in my own experience between what happens to the brain during sexual assault and in the course of a regular assault. At the risk of sounding like the star of “Perils of Pauline”, my desire to live a life of adventure, while filled with highs, also had me bump up against some violent encounters. So rape felt to me like the bombing of my very soul with splintered memories shooting out like schrapnel in every direction. But as I mentioned in my book “KICK” my thoughts were about surviving and holding my heart together. Patti Davis describes how – “Your memory snaps photos of the details that will haunt you forever.” Rape changes the neural pathways to the brain. Dr Blasey is expected to tell her story to this group of bullies who don’t have a neural pathway among them, without an investigation or witnesses. Looking back now at an experience I had in the late 70’s when I was abducted at gunpoint from the subterranean garage of the Magic Hotel in Hollywood in my yellow Camaro, I made a conscious decision somewhere on LaCienega that this guy could kill me but I would not be raped. In that moment, my thought process went into high witness gear. With his pearl-handled gun in my side all the way from Hollywood to Inglewood – very close to LAX, I concentrated on identifying him. From his 6’5” frame to the watch cap, cheap suit, smell of Aramis. I looked for an opportunity to jump out. I hoped a cop might see us. I don’t think I looked like the kind of woman who would date a man wearing a stocking cap. Eventually, the guy stopped and let me out on a very dark street. I actually asked him if I could get my dance bag out of the back seat. (God forbid I should lose my tap shoes and rubber workout pants.) He threw the bag at me and pulled off. Now this next part is amazing. A car pulls up with a couple of actors, just arrived from NY and lost. We helped each other. They drove me home. My boyfriend called the police who came right away. I identified the guy from mug shots. They got him and I came back east while waiting to testify at trial. Everything was very clear in my mind. Unlike after a rape experience. I was ready. They made a deal and let him go. But they listened and I was believed.

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