"He Raped Me"

This Is It

This is Rosanna Arquette.

She was it, she was so It, that it’s not just my opinion that Rosanna Arquette was IT—everyone who was above ground in the 80’s will absolutely agree that Rosanna Arquette was IT—and Rosanna Arquette was It because no one else was IT-er. This is the era when directors all over the world were yelling at their assistants: “Get me Rosanna Arquette!” Men who caught glimpses of Rosanna walking out of apartments wrote songs titled “Rosanna.” Rosanna and I met at Saturday Night Live—Rosanna was hosting; I was writing. Everybody was so in love with Rosanna they couldn’t see straight. A couple of years later, Rosanna smacked down Harvey Weinstein’s sexual advances in a hotel room and, like Mira Sorvino, was blacklisted in Hollywood.

Rosanna was one of the first women to pick up a jackhammer and smack an early crack in the stinking Weinsteinian Cistern of Shamed Silence by telling her story to Ronan Farrow for The New Yorker and Jodi Kantor for The New York Times. She went on to become a filmmaker, in part because she came out of the womb an activist. She is currently very involved in the Alexis Arquette Family Foundation (a cause dear to Rosanna’s heart that protects the safety and health of LGBTQ youth), and, as she has always been a great talker, her latest project is a quite provocative podcast—Radical Musings—with mesmerizing guests such as Jane Fonda.

And now, Reader! Cock your ears! Rosanna Arquette delivers one of the most powerful readings ever filmed for this or any other Substack column as she reads this week’s letter. Listen and watch as the emotions change second-by-second. And if you don’t squirt a few tears, I’ll eat my size-11 shoe.

Dear E. Jean:

How do I recover from being drugged and raped, and subsequently getting pregnant and having an abortion?

I went to a man’s house with him and his friend, believing we would continue to enjoy a friendly night (looking back—what was I even thinking?). His friend disappeared. The man drugged me and repeatedly raped me until I came to consciousness. He acted like I got drunk and it was consensual. Some days I feel destroyed and some days I feel pity for him; some days I feel normal, but I still experience this heavy cloud and I wish it would go away.

Being a mother was the most important thing in the world to me prior to this experience. I had chosen to abstain from sex until marriage, have a great relationship and become a great mom. I feel like that was stolen from me and I’m so sad. 

It happened 7 months ago now. The abortion was 6 months ago, and I am 31. I try to give myself grace about the rape. I tell myself that I didn’t understand the danger signs maybe because of my past—I came from a home with unhealthy parents. I am also grateful it wasn’t violent or the attack wasn’t made by a sadistic serial killer or something, and I feel lucky I’m alive. 

I feel OK now. But I get waves of emotional pain before my period begins. A lot of guilt but also a lot of gratitude for not being pregnant. I’ve also been under a lot of additional stress— a new job after this happened. (I only took a week off from work for my “miscarriage” and then went right back to hustling/surviving/keeping up the status quo as a boss lady—whatever that means nowadays.)

All in all, I’m doing better than I thought I would, and a lot of days I feel normal and still like a good person, and I try to empower myself and speak nicely to myself. But I have this pervasive sense of sadness and emptiness that happens behind the surface, and I don’t know if anything will ever fill it.  

I told my mom and therapist at the time. I reported it a month-and-a half after it happened. I wasn’t going to report it until I realized I was pregnant; and the abortion and violation made me furious! Otherwise I was just going to lick my wounds and keep going after the assault.

I don’t have real evidence, but I’m 99% positive I was drugged. I believe he manipulates women into thinking they’re drunk and it’s “consensual.” This was truly criminal and unbelievably harmful, not only to me but my identity as a woman. I reported it with my future children in mind. I want to do the best I can to make sure he doesn’t keep doing this. I’m in the process of seeing if something can be done about my report. I’m afraid of this man—he has money and I'm scared he is blatantly evil, and I don’t want to be on his bad side. I also don’t have the strongest case against him, especially if he decides to hire lawyers to drag me under, so I am trying right now just to make sure police and prosecution have this information so, if he gets caught again, I can bring him down with my evidence and witness testimony. I told my roommate and two friends and an uncle I’m close to, but no one else close to me knows exactly the full story besides my mom, the police and my therapist.

I am a clinical social worker; but now I head up a PR department for a startup company. I needed a break from trauma. 

I wish I knew the answer to why bad things happen to people but I do know good and evil and soul-level disease is real, and I wish it wasn’t. I feel sad for the man, that he is so disturbed as to hurt me the way he did; and my heart actually has a lot of compassion; but I still struggle with hating him and feeling afraid of others and scared for my well-being. 

Apologies for the stream of consciousness! Thank you for reading and responding— there is just so much, and I thought I might as well get it all out.

I appreciate you as an example as well for all of us.

Signed, Down, But Not Out

Not Out, My Love:

There is a way to put the rape in the past and move on. But before you continue reading, I warn you, dearest Not: I love you, but this is not going to be a you-go-girl-you’re-so-brave! answer. You and I have lived through too much to buy that bullshit.