I received a phone call from my assaulter. It was not an admission of fault or an apology. It was a phone call to tell me how he felt his actions were justified. The phone call was so devastating that I crashed my car into the garage and broke my side mirror. I looked at myself in broken pieces. (October 9, 2018, Baltimore, MD, USA)
These are snippets of my past life, torn down and waiting to be rebuilt. (December 29, 2018, Baltimore, MD, USA)
On a torn piece of paper, I wrote down the details of my assault. For my partner, when you are ready. (October 9, 2018, Baltimore, MD, USA)
I am holding on to my lifeline, waiting for things to get better. (September 12, 2018, Baltimore, MD, USA)
"You can get through this," Ian whispers as he holds me. (August 31, 2018, Baltimore, MD, USA)
Maia and Akira follow me wherever I go, urging me on. (September 18, 2018, Baltimore, MD, USA)
I am anxious and wary. This is the first time since the assault that I travelled alone to a place where I knew no one. (February 22, 2019, Columbia, MO, USA)
I saw these wildflowers blooming and thriving, something at that time I could not imagine for myself. Since then, I started calling this project, Wildflower, because I too wanted to endure.(November 11, 2018, Baltimore, MD, USA)
Wildflower
(ongoing)

Photographs and writing featured on CNN and NPR
Photographs featured at the National Geographic Storytelling Summit
Photographs awarded Visa d'or - Daily Press at Visa Pour I'image

Trigger Warning: This essay includes discussion of rape and its aftermath.

The prevalence of sexual assault is often presented through statistics: every 68 seconds an American is sexually assaulted. Every 9 minutes, that victim is a child. 1 out of 6 women are victims of rape. Meanwhile, only 25 of every 1000 reported perpetrators end up in prison. These statistics remind us constantly of the dangers and the lack of justice, but what do these numbers really tell us about the lives forever altered by such a devastating event?

Fueled by my own experiences of victim blaming and shaming, I started documenting my journey a month after being raped. This body of work, Wildflower, explores life after trauma through paired images and journal entries.

I always wonder what would have happened had I known a story like mine. Maybe, I could’ve ended my cycle of sexual violence sooner.

Rosem Morton

Rosem Morton is a documentary photographer and nurse based in Baltimore. Her visual storytelling explores the intersection of trauma, health and resilience.
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