He touched, abused, fondled, made me perform oral sex, and performed oral sex on me when I was two years old. Two. I was a baby, helpless, unable to look after myself, and his actions and words and the guilt he placed on me made me feel worthless and dirty and broken for the rest of my life. I didn’t tell anyone out of shame, because he said I was a “dirty girl” and “deserved it”. The first person I told, when I was thirteen years old, accused me of making it all up. The second person told me that it was just because I had been such a beautiful child – too beautiful for that man to withhold from touching. It was okay, because I was too beautiful. He had told me that, too, as he placed his head between my legs. Swore that I was just too beautiful. If people can say that to a child who fell victim to sexual assault at two years old, what are they willing to say and think about those who they deem as even less deserving of their protection than a toddler? At two, it was my fault, and at twenty, they still say it’s my fault. Is that rape culture?