A Message for Cosby Supporters

I’m going to tell you a story. One that few have heard up until this point. Not even my family knows this (sorry, Mom). There are holes in this story, because I don’t remember much of that night. I don’t remember much of that night because I was drugged.

I wasn’t raped. But only because there were 2 people with me that night that I trusted, whom I could count on to get me home safely. Who knew me well enough to know that something was wrong.

It was a normal night out. Summer in Miami. As with most weekend nights during undergrad, I could be found on Washington Avenue on South Beach or CocoWalk in the Grove. This night we chose The Grove. Cheap drinks, a good DJ, open air, and free admission to Fat Tuesday usually won out anyway. I don’t remember the drink. Maybe it was vodka and cranberry. Maybe Jack and Coke. I do remember ordering one. Just one. I don’t remember the stranger’s face. I do remember his being in my personal space uninvited. I don’t remember leaving my drink unattended. I didn’t. I wasn’t as vigilant about keeping an eye on it, though. I think I remember my friend saying she saw him possibly put something in it. She couldn’t be sure.

I remember thinking I was too drunk after just one drink. I remember my friends thinking the same. I remember them trying to get me to leave. I think I remember the guy who drugged me trying to stop them. I don’t remember leaving Fat Tuesday. I don’t remember how I got to the car. My car that I couldn’t drive home. I remember bits and pieces of the drive home. I remember my guy friend sitting in the back seat with me, making sure I was okay. I don’t remember anything I said to him, but apparently I was hilarious. It’s good they found humor. Maybe it meant I was somewhat okay to them. I won’t let them tell me anything, though.

I don’t remember how I made it home and into my bed. I slept in my clothes. I do remember being sick that night and for days after.  Not being able to keep anything down. The anxiety of trying to remember what happened. The fear of what could have happened. I remember not wanting to drink for a long time. Not wanting to go back to CocoWalk at all. These are moments of my life I will never get back.

And I was lucky. Still, I didn’t say anything. That was over 10 years ago.

So, when I see memes and jokes on Facebook questioning the validity of a rape accusation simply because these women remember Bill Cosby drugging and raping them, I get pissed the fuck off. Because you can and do remember. Even if it’s just in flashes. You. Know.

So, fuck your defense of Bill Cosby.
Fuck his wanting to buy NBC, as if that’s more important than the safety of these women.
Fuck your ignorance of how date rape drugs work.
Fuck your victim blaming and slut shaming.
And just in general, fuck you!

And you wonder why victims don’t tell…


9 thoughts on “A Message for Cosby Supporters

    • Thanks hun! I got off easy, but I’m so fucking sick of seeing that “you’re not supposed to remember” bullshit ass excuse. I don’t remember everything, but neither is the night a total blank.


  1. James says:

    Hi Tqwana. Sorry to hear about what happened to you. I have a teenage daughter and live scared of these very same situations. I pray for Gods protection over her and hope she always has people around her, like you did, that really know her and can see beyond the appearance or act, that something is just not right.

    That being said, I’m also a publisher of an education magazine and I have to tell you what happened to me when I saw your post on Linked In. The first thing I noticed was you’re a very pretty girl, with a great smile. Then I saw your post and the title caught my attention so I clicked it to read more. Your hook line “sorry mom” captured my attention immediately. Not to mention the main subject, Bill Cosby and his scandal, which has been making the headlines lately.

    So I start reading your story and I am drawn in completely, reading every detail, following every nuance of your description if the scene, the location, and ride home. I almost felt like I was in the back seat of the car with you. The way you expressed what happened that day, the simplicity in which any woman or man, I guess, can find themselves in that sort of situation and not be able to really respond, was captivating.

    You have a skill and you also had an opportunity to do real good with your post, but the passion in your story, I think, got the best of you and you went too far.

    Just when I thought you where going to end your story in a brilliant closing statement, warning all woman and young girls, of the potential risks out there, you started cursing and lost me completely. You did a great job building up the story to captivate a potential audience for your message, but the cursing just slams the door on someone like me, who could have potentially shared your story in education circles. Now I can’t. I can’t because it’s R rated for my audience. I know you didn’t ask for my critique or opinion, so you have every right to blast me after you read this, but I feel you are a writer and a good one at that, but you owe it to your “passion” and your “craft” to let you’re writing give LIFE to your words and let your words become what they where meant to become, SHARED and LIVED by others so the impact reaches as far as it can possibly go.


    Liked by 1 person

    • Hi James. Thank you for your comment. I appreciate the feedback. And you don’t have to worry about me blasting you. If you’re respectful with me, I will respond in kind. I don’t agree with you, but that’s the beauty of life. We don’t have to agree, just respect each other’s opinions and choices. If I were writing with a particular audience in mind, such as readers of your publication, for example, then I would’ve and could’ve used a different tone and less profane diction. To use the profanity was a deliberate choice, and while it offends you and probably my mother as well, it has resonated with others. Women are angry. We’re sick of rape culture and we should be allowed to express that in whatever manner we choose. I won’t apologize for the passion,as you say, that led to the f-bombs or the f-bombs themselves. That would’ve been censoring myself. But thanks again. And hug your daughter for me. I’m glad to know she has a father who will no doubt be on her side if she ever finds herself in a situation like this.


  2. Derek Omar Roberts says:

    Bravo my friend, I never knew this happened to you. I’d have kicked that guys ass myself if I’d ever found him. Definitely brave of you to tell your story, I think without a doubt Bill Cosby is guilty because too many women have come forward. Keep telling the truth, I’m always in your corner friend, others need to know that there’s scum out there who think it’s okay to do this when it isn’t. 😉😎😚💪👍👌


      • Derek Omar Roberts says:

        You’re so welcome TQ, I hate pieces of shit guy’s like this who take advantage of women in general because they think they can take whatever they want. Doesn’t work that way, there ALWAYS has to be consent before ANYTHING ever happens.

        Liked by 1 person

  3. Shirley Brown says:

    Hello my love read your article feel bad that you afraid to let me know what had happened. Thank God you are alright. Thought I raised you to feel that you could come and talk to me. Sorry


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s