I have never been raped, but I know something about rape. When my mother was in her sixties, she was raped twice by a serial rapist who was never caught. My daughter was sexually assaulted at college and the assailant walked away with an off-the-record rebuke. And a former high school girlfriend was kidnapped and raped while hitchhiking.
Here’s what I know about rape.
Six months afterward, I have seen my mother start shaking uncontrollably and then cry for hours.
I have heard my daughter scream in the night, and when her mother ran to comfort her, I have sat in bed listening helplessly.
I have been told by my former girlfriend that she can no longer have sex, because whenever a man touches her she goes completely rigid, stiff as a board, not even able to speak.
So no, I have never had a 250 lb man squeeze my throat until I heard things cracking while he shoved a dick up my ass, but I know something about rape.
I am tempted to wish the gift of rape upon Mourdock’s family, but I cannot. So let me wish this. Mourdock, may you be judged by a god who has rape as part of his heavenly plan.