As the so-called fourth wave of feminism gains momentum both online and off - by “off”, I don’t just refer to the indomitable Beyoncé but also the important real-world activism and volunteering that is taking place within our local communities - it seems not a day goes by when a publicly expressed opinion on rape is met with cries of victim-blaming. This week’s target for censure was Judge Mary Jane Mowat, who chose the occasion of her retirement to express her thoughts on how the rape conviction rate will only improve when women “stop getting drunk”. In a country where most rape victims are raped when sober and by someone they know, surely such a statement encapsulates the very nature of victim-blaming?

Comments which correlate women’s behaviour with the likelihood of their being raped are, by now, not news to me. I vividly remember shaking with anger at 17, when I read a Melanie Phillips column suggesting that short-skirted, drunken ladettes who were raped or sexually assaulted brought it on themselves. That was 10 years ago, and since then I’ve seen enough badly expressed public mouthing off about rape – from the suggestion that there is some kind of rape spectrum ranging from not-rape to rape-rape, to the Republican-sponsored notion that my psychic vagina is magically able to destroy the sperm of rapists – to conclude that we do indeed inhabit what is known as a “rape culture”.

But the term “rape culture” seems to irk some people. So let’s just say a culture in which rape is routinely trivialised, where victims are frequently blamed for its occurrence and their testimony is denied and ridiculed; where the onus is placed on them to prevent rape from happening, coupled with the presence of a justice system that showcases an appallingly low conviction rate for such crimes.

Terminology is helpful (“rape culture” is much snappier, is it not?), but it can preclude nuance. Is Judge Mowat symptomatic of a “rape culture” when, as she clarifies, she was not saying that drunk girls deserve to be raped, but that drunkenness has implications for juries attempting to establish the reliability of witness testimony? Is that “victim-blaming”? I’m not sure because, by the time the term has been invoked and the polarised sides have formed their ranks, the gap for discussion or investigation has essentially closed. I’ll be pilloried for this, said Judge Mary, and she was right.

I was first alerted to the term victim-blaming a couple of years ago, when, having been attacked, I wrote an article in which I victim-blamed myself. I made all of the classic victim-blaming mistakes – expressing regret at having walked back that late at night, comparing the crime of rape to burglary, saying that women had a duty to protect themselves – and I regret it now.

I still fundamentally believe in what I was trying, so inarticulately, to get at – which is that feminist debate about rape has become so anger-filled and simplistic that at times it seems to decry the very existence of common-sense safety advice. But I realise also that I had internalised many of the prevailing societal attitudes towards female victims and was using them against myself and other women.

Instead of trying to discuss this with me sensitively, however, I was shouted down, ridiculed, and abused, as was a date-rape victim who popped up in the comments and said she wished she’d kept a better eye on her drinks that night. The implication was that we were silly girls and bad feminists who didn’t know how to feel about our own attacks at the hands of men. In other words, our testimonies as victims were denied, trivialised and ridiculed.

So where do you go when one group of people are blaming you for your attack and analysing your behaviour to conclude whether or not it fits neatly into a victim narrative, and another is telling you you’re a bad feminist who has not responded properly to an extremely violent and traumatic incident? I’m not sure I know, but I do know that a reluctance to speak openly about attitudes towards violence against women for fear of being “called out” hardly fosters honest debate. When Rape Crisis Oxford called Judge Mowat’s comments “outrageous”, did they reflect how many of the victims who come to them may have expressed similar views, similar regrets? Attitudes which have been long nurtured and fostered and which need handling sensitively and logically, rather than being angrily dismissed out of hand? Such views are so prevalent that they should be considered with insight and analysis, not dismissal.

“We shouldn’t be telling victims how not to get raped, we should be teaching men not to rape,” is the frequent cry. I agree. But until the world is free of rapists and those who wish to do harm, I’ll be taking the safety advice and doing the self-defence, carrying my rape alarm and taking a taxi, and yes, wearing the “anti-rape” nail varnish.

As well as condemning victim-blaming where I see it, I’ll also continue to have mixed feelings about my own attack, because I am human and I think not in rainbow colours nor in black and white, but in shades of grey. I sometimes wish feminism would do the same.