🚨THE MATH I HATE
The third young woman walked off the stage and I did the math.
I looked to my left. I looked to my right.
I didn’t like the math. In fact, I hated it.
My girls were right there.
–
We were at a spoken word performance. Three young ladies took the stage. Each shared a piece about sexual abuse.
Three.
I remembered the stat, 1 in 3 women are victims of sexual assault. Some sources say 1 in 4 — but that’s only what gets reported.
I’ve also heard stories about women who had never spoken of these things to anyone. Women already in their 80s and 90s, certain they were going to die with this secret locked inside them.
How does that trauma play out across a lifetime? How do you show up as a mother, a partner, a sister, a friend — carrying something that heavy, that long, that alone?
The math doesn’t account for the silence. The real number is much worse.
–
Some conversations are tough. Some are absolutely agonizing.
This one I could not run from. Not if I wanted to look myself in the mirror and call myself a good father.
It went something like this:
“If your uncle touches you in a way that is not acceptable. You tell me.”
“If abuelo touches you. You tell me.”
“If any person touches you without your consent. You tell me.”
“I will believe you. Tell me.”
– Oh dad. They would never touch us.
“I know. I hope.”
—
But the truth is that the people who sexually assault women and little girls are almost always family. Almost always friends.
This is the sad, sick reality. I hate to even insinuate that they would.
But I needed them to know — both of them — that if it ever happened, I would believe them. No questions. No hesitation.
We all want to believe we’ll be the lucky ones.
That the math will be in our favor. That our family is the exception. That the conversation is unnecessary.
But silence is not protection. Pretending it can’t happen in your family is not protection.
The more we avoid the discomfort, the more we leave them exposed.
Showing up — even when it’s awkward, even when it’s unlikely, even when everything in you wants to believe it will never matter — that’s the only math that works in your favor.
I chose the conversation. For them. I will always choose the conversation.
Awkward or not.
