Response to last post

This started as a comment in response to Belial on my last post, but got too long because I started to get long-winded about something that’s been on my mind lately.

For context, Belial called Gregory an asshole.

Not to say he’s not an asshole (he totally is), but I don’t think Gregory is really out of the ordinary in a case like this. This country has a lot of confusion over when women can and can’t say no to sex. There’s always circumstantial bullshit that decrees when rape is really and seriously and totally wrong, and when it’s kind of wrong, and when it was a mistake, and when it was her fault, instead of a default 100% condemnation of all men who have sex with women who say no. That is the definition of rape, so that should be the threshold of condemnation. And yet, there’s a disconnect.

You can see our society’s ambivalence well enough in media or hypothetical cases, but when it’s somebody you know, I think all of that confusion and gray area intensifies with the fervent desire to believe that a friend of yours couldn’t have possibly done that. I’m sure some of that is relational — you don’t want to think this individual person could do such a thing — and I think part of that is an invasion of your own life — this isn’t something that happens out there, to other people, anymore. It’s something that came into your life that you didn’t ask for and didn’t want. I think people who know rapists and rape victims have somewhat similar feelings and experiences as victims do. Their life, their personal space, their beliefs about the world have been violated, and to confront and integrate that completely might mean a seismic change in all their closest and most personal relationships. Not to mention now forever having the knowledge that horrible, random, and evil things can invade their world at any time.

Rape victims can go through denial, too, but I think they don’t get the luxury of it as much as the people around them do. They have the memories to cope with, and the PTSD, and whatever actual physical consequences, and the possibility of seeing the person again (since most rapists are known to the victim). I had to sort of “suspend” really dealing with my rape for a long time, because I needed to get Mr. Flint to sign the divorce papers and avoid a huge court battle, which meant I needed to see him in person. I wouldn’t have been able to do that whatsoever if I was actively thinking about the rape, so it just got walled off somewhere, because it was more important to me to get the divorce than it was to punch him in the face or avoid him forever.

I think a victim’s friends and families end up prioritizing like that, too, and they have the luxury of making a shittier priority list. Such as, I can’t believe this is actually rape because if I do I can never speak to this guy again and what do I tell all our mutual friends. Because a victim’s friends and families may not have to see the rapist, because they don’t have memories that get triggered, because they don’t have panic attacks, it’s easier for them to swallow any of the thousand of excuses society offers up for why it wasn’t really rape, or why it was maybe rape but not really a big deal, or why it was rape but not really anybody’s fault. They don’t have to be bad people to do that. Just ordinary people who are, to a different degree, as afraid and horrified and powerless as the rape victim is. To accept what happened is to have your world shatter.

We leave a lot of space in this culture for excusing rape, and it’s a space that good people can find themselves in, too, without meaning to, simply because they’ve never had to confront it on a personal level. I think, considering the 1 in 5 statistic, and how few rapists get convicted, and how often sexual assault becomes a public joke, all women ought to take it personally — this is about them, and what they’re worth. But I know, even with how ardently feminist I am, and how much I knew about rape, I didn’t take it as personally as I do now. And I should have.

Almost all the women I’ve known in my life have been raped or molested, so I did a lot of reading about it, and was very conscious of it. Even with that, though, not until I was raped did I really start noticing, day in and day out, how many offhand comments people make about women who are drunk or slutty or liars, how many television shows and movies casually depict situations approximating rape, or in fact do depict rape as something highly sexual, or depict rape but none of the after-effects the woman must deal with (treating it pretty much like a stuffed in the refrigerator concept to provide the male main character with plot and character, instead of providing the female victim with PTSD the rest of her life, which was boring anyway).

I take this stuff personally on a level I had the luxury of avoiding before. I feel like part of it was just so much of a fluid part of society; I might notice something seemed uncomfortable in passing, but it wasn’t worth getting upset over, wasn’t worth getting into. And now, if I get upset over it, if I get into it, it’s because I’ve been traumatized, or because I’m letting it interfere with my “strength,” or I’ve lost my sense of humor, or anything other than the fact that EVERYBODY should get upset over those things EVERY TIME THEY HAPPEN. And nobody should let ANYBODY get away with a stupid, shitty, rape-tastic comment.

(Please note: this is not to say that from now on, it is decreed that everybody who ever talks about rape in any degree or setting must have super serious face and super serious voice and only say super serious things. Every topic needs some humor, or lightness, or something other than dead serious horror day in and day out, especially when something like this becomes part of your life. The above is only to say that nobody should get away with comments about how rape is not rape, rape doesn’t happen, rape is somebody’s fault other than the attacker, etc.)

Back to serious face.

To do that, to accept and be conscious of the fact that any woman is fair game for rape any time, at any place, and has little to no protection or support, to really confront and be aware of the general ambivalence of our culture to condemn rape 100%, that can leave a person feeling very angry, vulnerable, violent, distrustful, and alien. You know. Like a victim. Nobody wants to feel that way, and when you live in a time and a place that offers so many excuses for why rape isn’t really rape, or why rape isn’t really that bad, or why rape really doesn’t happen that much, it’s easy, even if you’re a good person, to take that and run with it. If you can avoid feeling like you’re vulnerable to attack constantly, or if you can avoid feeling like the women you know and love could be hurt terribly any moment of any day, or avoid realizing that this concept that is pure evil in your mind is something your brother that you love dearly did last Tuesday, then, you know, you’re not going to want to take it personally. Whether you’re a good and well-meaning person, or a fucking asshole to begin with.

Not saying, have sympathy for Gregory. Like I said, asshole to begin with. But I don’t really think things get changed until there’s some understanding of them, and I think it’s important to understand why good and decent people would deny or avoid rape as a real and personal concept. We haven’t gotten our support of victims into place yet. We can have all the rape crisis centers we want, but until we start convicting rapists at a level that has some relationship to the incidence of rape and until we start finding ways to prevent the incidence of rape to begin with, we are more or less just passing out blankets. I wouldn’t want any focus to be taken away from where it needs to be going, which is stopping rape before it happens, and providing real and necessary support to victims. But, as I’ve been thinking about this, I’ve realized I’d really like to see more resources and support for friends and family members of rape victims. I’ve understood why it happens, but I haven’t enjoyed having people who support me also look to me for support — how should they act? What can they talk about? Who should they tell? Is it okay to show anger? I barely have the answers for how I want to feel, or act, or talk about, or tell, and I’m not comfortable telling other people how to cope with my rape. But, when I think about it, where have they got to go? Who’s telling them it’s okay to feel anger, it’s okay to feel depressed, it’s okay to go through denial, it’s okay to express disbelief (though not to the victim)? That those are all ordinary phases that victims go through, too? I think providing some assistance to friends and family members of victims, or rapists, could go some distance in creating a society that can have a mature response to rape.