If You Wanted a "Perfect Victim", You Should Have Killed Me.
Of Course, God Is NOT A Woman. Look Around!
If you bleed out in the streets, you’re a tragedy.
If you fight back and survive, you’re an inconvenience.
Somewhere between hashtags and headlines, we decided what a “perfect victim” looks like:
Silent. Dead. Unthreatening. Easy to pity. Easier to forget.
Survive?
Fight back?
Dare to narrate your own assault?
Now you’re “complicated.” “Messy.” “Asking for it.”
Because survival in this world isn’t proof of your strength—
It’s proof you’re guilty of not dying beautifully enough.
They Want You Dead, But Pretty.
In 2022, a woman in the U.S. secretly recorded her rapist for proof.
Guess who got prosecuted?
She was charged with violating his “privacy.”
In India, after the 2012 Delhi gang rape, politicians actually said out loud that “good girls” don’t roam outside at night.
One minister blamed “western culture.”
Another suggested that if the girl had called the rapists “brother” while being attacked, she might have been spared.
(Yes, these people made laws for you.)
When Donald Trump was caught on tape bragging about sexual assault (“grab them by the p***y”),
half the world shrugged and said, “Boys will be boys.”
(And then they made him President.)
When a woman is raped and murdered, she becomes a symbol.
When a woman is raped and survives, she becomes a liability.
Because the myth of the perfect victim demands one thing above all:
You must lose your voice.
Or they’ll take it from you.
If You’re Too Angry, You’re Lying.
If You’re Too Calm, You’re Lying.
You screamed? Drama queen.
You froze? Made it up.
You cried? Manipulative.
You didn’t cry? Cold-hearted.
In their eyes, there is no right way to survive.
Ask Dr. Christine Blasey Ford.
Ask Anita Hill.
Ask every teenage girl who reported her assault and got asked:
“But what were you wearing?”
In 2021, a UN report stated that 97% of women in the UK between 18–24 had been sexually harassed.
Most never reported it.
Why?
Because when we scream, they mock us.
When we whisper, they ignore us.
And when we fall silent, they call it peace.
The World Makes Monuments for Dead Girls.
They build candlelight vigils.
Poems.
Statues.
But the girl who survives?
They build court cases against her.
Character assassinations.
WhatsApp forwards about her “past.”
Because dead girls don’t file lawsuits.
Dead girls don’t ask for justice.
Dead girls don’t disrupt.
Living women are messy.
They cry at inconvenient times.
They call out your favorite celebrities.
They sue companies.
They refuse to “move on” for your comfort.
And nothing terrifies this world more than a woman who lives—and refuses to be quiet.
“At least it wasn’t that bad”—A National Pastime.
If a woman shares her trauma and survives without needing hospitalization,
people really want you to know it could’ve been worse.
At least he didn’t kill you.
At least he didn’t do what that guy did to that girl on the news.
At least, at least, at least —
The anthem of the oppressors who wear human faces.
Survivors Carry Guilt That Was Never Theirs.
There’s a special kind of loneliness in surviving.
It’s realizing that people would have mourned you harder if you hadn’t been strong enough to survive them.
It’s realizing that society is more comfortable discussing your obituary than your testimony.
It’s wondering if your worthiness depended on your silence.
It’s being alive and still having to prove you deserve to be here.
Real Names. Real Shame.
Mulayam Singh Yadav (former Indian minister):
“Boys will be boys. They make mistakes.”
(referring to rape.)
Terry Richardson (famous fashion photographer):
Protected for years despite allegations from dozens of models.
Mukesh Singh (2012 Delhi rapist):
“A girl is far more responsible for rape than a boy.”
Unnamed U.S. judge (in 2017 sexual assault case):
“She didn’t seem traumatized enough.”
Public sentiment during Brock Turner case (Stanford sexual assault case):
Focused more on his swimming career than her ruined life.
(This is not history. This is yesterday.)
The Real Definition of “Perfect.”
You were always perfect.
Not because you bled beautifully.
Not because you survived without screaming.
Not because you played dead to keep the peace.
But because you lived.
Even when they didn’t want you to.
Even when they still don’t.
You don’t owe them a pretty story.
You don’t owe them silence.
You don’t owe them forgiveness.
You owe yourself everything.
i love how deeply you feel about these emotions!!!