Tonight's blog is going to be on an edgy subject, so if you're easily squicked, please leave now.
When you speak the word "rape", varying opinions get blurted out regarding what constitutes the act as well as how it should be handled. From one end of the spectrum come those who think everyone should be treated like porcelain dolls. The other end are those who state that either rape "simply doesn't exist" or that the person who was raped brought it upon themselves in some manner.
Where do I stand on this subject? What is my belief? I generally keep quiet about it because in some respects, I'm conflicted. Have I been taken against my will and subjected to sexual acts that I would not have agreed to beforehand with men I didn't know before, during, or after the fact? Yes. Has it happened with men I knew? Yes. Did I do something to exact such an act upon myself? Yes. Did I say no when the act happened? No. Both times the situation occurred, I placed myself into them, against my better judgment and intuition. During both acts, I wilted. I did not fight but as soon as I was able to, I removed myself from the situation. I rarely speak of them though they happened years ago and I am fairly certain that there may be some of my closely held loved ones that may not know about it even now. I say "it" instead of "them" because while it was two different situations, it is the same subject for both.
I did not apply the word "rape" to either situation either during or after the fact and when someone mentioned it the first time I did bring it up, I was disgusted that the word would have been used to describe what had happened. Such a horrible thing could not and would not happen to me, right? I would not be subjected to such a filthy act of violence upon myself, would I? Certainly for it to be considered "rape", the unwilling person has to say no, doesn't he/she? These were some of the questions that rolled through my mind. Even now, I find my lips curling in disgust at the thought and it makes me feel sick to my stomach. I never sought counseling, instead choosing to put those situations into their own box inside my own very organized yet chaotic brain. Occasionally I peek into the box and rummage through it, trying to make sense of it, only to put it back on the shelf for a while longer. Hey, it's worked with everything else. Why not this too?
With that being said, whenever there is a rape scene in a movie, I have a difficult time with it. Not just because of my unease with it, but also because it turns me on. Makes me wet. It is a conflict of interest inside my head. On one hand, this is an act against an unwilling person, brought on by nothing that person did to the person committing it. On the other hand, the person doing this to the other person is showing they are stronger than the one person. That sense of strength and being overpowered is a heady concoction to me. The simplicity of it is that I HAVE to know the other person can handle my strength. If they can't, then they can't protect me. To be overpowered in that way is a sign to me that they can. And it disgusts me that I need that. I want to fight and be taken down, fucked and shown I'm not the boss. I crave it. Yet I know if such a situation were to occur, I'd melt once again. I don't know that I could be violent against someone else.
To have to be strong in every area of one's life is taxing. I need that one space where I can be little and vulnerable, but know that I'm safe. That's what it boils down to, I think. Take me, fuck me. Mind-fuck me if you want. Do what you will, but when you're done, hold me. Let me know that I'm ok. That I'm safe, cherished, cared about/for. Don't throw me away...
