This essay gets at why I often feel uncomfortable identifying as a “survivor” instead of as a “victim”. I don’t like the implicit assumption that I’m somehow stronger or better than those who didn’t survive. We are all equal, and equally valuable. https://slate.com/news-and-politics/2020/08/daisy-coleman-death-surviving-rape.html

I recognize wanting to send the message that being a victim of gendered violence shouldn't define a person's life, and we're all so much more than what some shitty dude did to us. But the problem with "survivor" is a lot of us just don't make it. And that is a matter of luck.

I often try to avoid it by talking about sexual assault not in terms of identity at all, but about what happened: A man sexually assaulted me. That active verb makes people uncomfortable, but you know, we shouldn't be comfortable with rape or sexual assault.

It has the added advantage of not making it my identity, or employing a term like "survivor" that, as well-meaning as it may be, erases those who didn't survive.

Food for thought. Not trying to shame anyone who has used "survivor" — god knows I've employed that word plenty, it's the common term — but I have a problem with it. I don't want to erase Daisy Coleman. Or any of the thousands of women that die every year at the hands of men.

Also agreed that we need to evolve past just telling victims we believe them. Everyone I told believed me 20+ years ago when it happened, and by and large, has believed me since. That's baseline, and victims/survivors/whatever you want to call them deserve more.

Trust me, being believed was not really the problem. What is a larger problem is that people don't take it seriously and are annoyed at you for being a pill who demands justice. Most protestations of disbelief are just a cover for that.

One more thought: I was young when the "survivor" language first developed, and my memory was that it wasn't really meant, at first, to be some catch-all phrase for anyone who got attacked but lived. It was something women employed after they'd processed and healed.

I worry nowadays that applying "survivor" to someone who is still freshly in pain and definitely still suffering the initial trauma is not helpful, that it subtly pressures victims to get over it and get into the healed-and-ready-to-help-others stage ASAP.

Per @kate_manne's new book, women aren't allowed to need things. We're cast as the givers and helpers and carers. The word "victim" connotes someone who is in need. "Survivor" puts women in a more comfortable role, as the whole person ready to do her duty in helping others.

But as someone who lived through this kind of traumatic experience, I can tell you probably what I needed most of all was permission to wallow, to cry, to be comforted, and to be, well, a victim. Instead of being expected to be a rock that doesn't bother others.