The moment that I undress, “from the waist down,” and hop up on the paper covered bed in a doctor’s office, I feel a bit of joy in the confidence that my questions will finally be answered, or at least addressed. That is, of course, until the doctor has just one question of his/her own. “Have you ever been molested, raped, or sexually assaulted in any way?”

The second that my honest answer chokes from my mouth, “Yes. I have been.” I know that every word thereafter that I speak, will NOT be heard. It is immediately following that confirmation when the doctor gets it into his/her head that whatever my “womanly complaint” is, it can’t be valid since I have a long history of abuse. All my aches and pains are a result of post traumatic stress and can’t possibly be an actual PHYSICAL result of something that can be remedied.

Yes! I Was molested but…..

It even took months of me complaining to one gynecologist to look into why I was having abdominal pain. Later, finally convincing the doctor to look into the issue, if only from me being a nuisance, we found out that I did, indeed have polyps that needed to be surgically removed. Why should it be such a gruesome experience to make someone in the medical field listen to me just because I had been molested/raped.

Even after extensive therapy on the issue, and varifyingly clear evidence that I am not haunted by any such past history, why is it I must be subjected to this discriminatory abuse by a stranger who can’t possibly know much about me in the 10 minutes it usually takes for that question to arise.