Let’s not judge memories

Here’s the thing about the past: we all forget parts of it. Even the really important life moments, we won’t retain all of the detail. What did you eat at your matric farewell?

What song was playing when that special boy (or girl) at last kissed you?

What was your baby wearing when it took its first steps?

This forgetting is hardly groundbreaking news, but if you’re a victim of assault, apparently you must remember.

And if you’re the president of the US mocking a woman for not recalling every factor surrounding an attack committed when she was 15, some 36 years ago, then it is proof of your deceit.

I remember the two burly oafs who grabbed my first boyfriend and me, age 15, when we were balancing on the dam wall near the highway. They would either beat him to a pulp or they would have sex with me, they said: our choice.

I vividly recall the heartthumping fear, the knowledge that they’d do both regardless. Our permission would merely leave one of us passive.

Long story short, we tricked our way out of their clutches to “discuss” our decision, then made a break for the safety of the busy highway. They pounded after us, gaining, but the road was closer.

However, what they looked like (beyond being big and Afrikaans), the time of year, let alone what day, I do not know.

Equally, I don’t remember the date, or the address, or whose party it was, but I clearly remember the kitchen island piled with bags and jumpers, my friend’s eighties brogues, the black-lace sleeves of her dress, her milk-white horror, the name of the boy who assaulted her …

So when it comes to memory, let’s not judge women – or men – when they share a painful experience; let’s not assume they’re lying because they can’t recall some detail when they remember others clearly: my friend’s laddered tights; the dead brown eyes in a face I wouldn’t recognise in a lineup; having just one beer, probably Dr Christine Blasey Ford’s first at 15.

Yes, what victims have to tell us may not stand up to forensic scrutiny, especially in court where incontrovertible proof is demanded, because memories are made up of what is registered emotionally, much of it primal, just feeling.

And that feeling, good or bad, never goes away.