When is rape funny?

Rape is never funny, but sometimes people joke about it anyway. Sometimes it is laughing to keep from crying, or trying to bring attention to the issue, but it can also be triggering and even end up validating rapists. It can be a pretty taboo subject for comedy, because unless you are one evil SOB, rape isn't funny.

I am going to do a series of posts on what different comedians have said about rape and abuse and why some jokes are acceptable, while others aren't. The first thing I want to mention is the weird way comedians feel threatened by the rape isn't funny movement. The big tagline is: "comedians need freedom. That's how comedy gets made. If you don't want to be offended, then stay out of comedy clubs." That's right, comedians go out on stage and say whatever they want and the then audience reacts and they learn from the feedback which jokes work. However, for some reason, comedians refuse to listen to the feedback they get on their rape jokes. Some rape jokes are great, but comedians need to craft them responsibly.

Survivors deserve the right to be able to heal. No joke, no matter how funny or clever you think it is, should override that right. This has nothing to do with being sensitive. PTSD triggers our real physiological responses that cause real suffering. I don’t think it’s possible for people who don’t have PTSD, to understand, but try to imagine the most awful, horrible thing that’s ever happened to you, and then imagine your friends joking and laughing about it. It’s not cool.

 Every time you tell a rape joke, there’s a good chance that you’re triggering someone’s PTSD. According to the Rape Abuse and Incest National Network, one in six women have been raped, and one in 33 men. Even those numbers are probably low because, unfortunately, rape is a crime that goes unreported a lot of the time.  If you tell a rape joke to a group of any size, you’re more likely than not, to cause someone severe emotional distress. Rape can cause very traumatic flash backs and panic attacks, as a result of PTSD, and making jokes like that only makes survivors feel more alone and isolated.

 While I can agree that nothing should be out of bounds for humor because comedy functions best (most of the time) when it is pushing limits, I also understand that the vast majority of rape jokes are jokes which further victimize people who have been raped -- and that's not pushing anything except the already widespread cultural belief that rape is a joke. The best comics use their art to call bullshit on those terrible parts of life and make them better, not worse.

There's a very clear difference in a rape joke that makes fun rapists and one that makes fun of victims. When a joke takes a shot at a rape survivor, who’s that helping? You’re just attacking this person who’s gone through this horrible thing, and for what? To prove that you’re edgy and cool, and not tied down by political correctness? That’s crap. There’s nothing edgy or cool about making fun of rape survivor. 

Making fun of victims is never funny, but pointing out the faulty logic in a rapists fucked up mind is completely different...

Louis C.K. is making a great rape joke here. He is making fun of how ridiculous it is to have any excuse for raping another person. I love it! Cyanide and Happiness does the same thing:

Very funny stuff. 

This however, is not funny at all:

I don't condone anyone raping anyone and I don't think picturing anyone being raped is or should be funny, even if they are cartoon characters. George goes on to explain himself a little better, but I'll cover that in a later post. 

Also not funny:

This is one of those jokes that makes fun of the victim, not the aggressor. This is seriously messed up and isn't funny. Rape jokes like this are actively harmful. When rapists see rape being joked about, and taken lightly, they think that their behavior is okay. A lot of rapists don’t know that they’re rapists, because they don’t feel like they’ve done anything wrong, this feeds into that.

So is rape funny? No, absolutely not, never. 

Can rape jokes be funny? 

Sometimes, as long as you tell them responsibly.

 

 

That other time I was raped:

I would like to point out that Zac was not the only man to molest me. There were the incidents in Paris and my second husband taking me in my sleep…and there was also this guy…

I had been dumped rather brutally…one of those long dragged out affairs where you are so obsessed with the guy that you let him talk you into coming over for sex even though he has a new girlfriend. I was heartbroken and it was finally over. I joined a dating site or two and was eager to get out there and get over him.

A nice, funny, charming Indian man messaged me and we agreed to go out on a date that night. That was the only time I have ever agreed to go on a date with someone the same day they messaged me. I had a feeling in my gut telling me not to go, that it was weird that he wanted to go out that night and not wait, but I ignored it. I thought my gut was being paranoid and just scared to put itself out there. I have depression and anxiety so I sometimes feel like things are about to crash down around me for no real reason. My gut is a little jumpy.

So I went out to meet this guy at a bar and arrived first because I am usually early. He was late, said he was getting off work and apologized profusely, so I ordered a drink, vodka tonic because I hate beer, and waited. He arrived before I finished it and we grabbed a table. He was very sweet. He insisted on the bartender transferring my tab to his card and ordered wings. Spicy wings. Now, if you know me, you know I can’t handle spice. I think table pepper is too much sometimes. He kept offering, and I thought eating might be a good idea since I had already finished one drink and started another, so I tried the wings. They were delicious. They were also very spicy and I am a wimp. I’m not sure how many vodka tonics I went through eating those wings, but it was pretty obvious to me that I shouldn’t be driving. 

The guy offered me coffee and invited me to his place to drink it, and watch the Blues Brothers. He told me he had never seen it before and watching my all-time favorite movie over a cup of coffee (or three) seemed like a pretty fun way to sober up. He said after the movie he would drive me back to my car so I could drive home safely. I was having a great time and was enjoying being around a guy who wasn’t afraid to be seen with me.

We went back to his place and I immediately threw up multiple times in his toilet. I stumbled out of the bathroom thinking a couple hours of sleep while he watched the movie would probably be better for me than coffee. He said something about not having a TV in the living room (I have no idea if this was even true since I had run straight to his bathroom) and had started the movie in his bedroom. I collapsed next to him and must have passed out because the next thing I know my pants were off and we were having sex. It wasn’t the first time I had woken up this way, but it was the first time I had woken up this way after being passed out and my head was groggy to say the least. I’m not sure if he saw me wake up and decided to finish quickly before I figured out what to do, or if he was just ready…but he flipped me over and finished in my posterior. I remember as he was flipping me over I tried to tell him this wasn’t ok, but I didn’t get any further than “I can’t do…” before the wind was knocked out of me by his unexpected entrance in my other hole.

When he was done he rolled off of me and I got up. “I need to go to my car NOW” I told him, no longer caring about the dangers of driving while intoxicated and feeling pretty sober after that ordeal. He obliged and as we got into his car he mentioned I had left my hoodie. “I don’t care; I need to go home now.” I told him, and he took me to my car. 

The next day, he texted me to ask when we could go out again, saying he had a great time. When I told him to leave me alone he asked how to get my hoodie back to me and I told him I didn’t want it. I told a friend of mine about the incident a few weeks later and she asked why I didn’t report him. I just shrugged and said “What is one more rape? I just want to be as far away from him as possible. I don’t think he meant it like that anyway and I don’t want to ruin his life over this.”

That might have been one of the most idiotic things I have ever said. I wish I remembered his name and I hope he doesn’t ruin anyone else’s life. As for thinking “he didn’t mean it that way”…ugh. Women are not here for men’s amusement and if a girl throws up in your toilet and passes out on your bed, you don’t get to use her to get off….but spending years being raped and abused had me so damaged I believed the rape culture.

Rape is a form of abuse.

My blog is predominantly about rape, but I plan on talking about other forms of abuse as well.

Myth: The primary motive for rape is impulsive sexual desire. Fact: Studies show that the major motive for rape is power, not sex. 

This is true of all abuse and important to think about because all abuse comes from that same mindset whether it is emotional, psychological, physical, or sexual.

People can have a pretty narrow definition of abuse, but according to Wikipedia; “Abuse is the improper usage or treatment of an entity, often to unfairly or improperly gain benefit.” So, right there in the definition we can see that abuse isn’t just limited to the physical. There are so many people who think that’s all it is. Lundy Bancroft (I know I know, I am such a fangirl) says, “The defining point of abuse is when the man starts to exercise power over the woman in a way that causes harm to her and privileged status for him.”

This is probably a good place to talk about gender.

I tend to refer to victims as “she” and abusers as “he”. I am aware of the fact that men are sometimes victims of both rape and other forms of abuse. Statistically speaking, they are rare though. 82% of all juvenile rape victims are female. 90% of adult rape victims are female. For domestic abuse, a 1995-1996 study conducted in the 50 States and the District of Columbia, says that nearly 25% of women and 7.6% of men were raped and/or physically assaulted by a current or former spouse, cohabiting partner, or dating partner/acquaintance at some time in their lifetime (based on survey of 16,000 participants, equally male and female). There are some people who say that men are less likely to report these crimes, and that the numbers are off. While I can imagine that might play a factor in rape, I seriously doubt it with any other form of abuse. Lundy Bancroft makes a good point:

 “Where are the men whose partners are forcing them to have unwanted sex? Where are the men who are fleeing to shelters in fear for their lives? How about the ones who try to get to a phone to call for help, but the women block their way or cut the line? The reason we don’t generally see these men is simple: They’re rare…….Even if abused men didn’t want to come forward, they would have been discovered by now…..Among my physically abusive clients, nearly one third have been arrested as a result of a call to the police that came from someone other than the abused woman. If there were millions of cowed, trembling men out there the police would be finding them. Abusive men commonly like to play the role of victim, and most men who claim to be “battered men” are actually the perpetrators of violence, not the victims.”

I read a story on Everyday Victim Blaming (a British blog) about an abuse victim who confronted her abuser only to have him slam the door in her face. She threw a handful of gravel at the house and he called the police. So statistically speaking, that man was a victim of domestic violence while she is not.

I don’t want to hear any “Men are victims of abuse too” from anyone here. Men are victims of abuse. Period. Yes it happens. I plan on dedicating a few posts to the subject, but don’t come here and add the “too”. If you are concerned with male victims you wouldn’t wait for someone to bring up female victims before you mention them.

If you are a male victim of rape or any kind of abuse, services for male victims do exist. Most federal funding sources require that domestic violence services be provided to all victims of abuse. Advocates can provide information, assist with safety planning, and/or find local resources, if available. They can also help brainstorm alternative options if local programs are not meeting the requirements for male victims, including who a caller may be able to contact if they believe they have experienced discrimination.

No matter what your situation you can call the National Domestic Violence Hotline at 800-799-SAFE (7233), 800-787-3224 (TTY).

A Few Other Resources for Men:

• Male Survivor provides resources to male survivors of sexual trauma
• Safe Place in Austin, TX provides services and shelter for male victims of sexual assault and domestic violence. We can help you locate shelters in your area, where available.
• Center Against Domestic Violence, based in New York City, offers information and support for male victims
• Helpguide.org: Help for Abused Men
• Lambda’s Anti-Violence Project provides support and resources to LGBTQ victims of violence

Female victims can also call the National Domestic Violence Hotline and here are a few other resources for them:

• National Sexual Assault Hotline: National hotline, operated by RAINN, that serves people affected by sexual violence. It automatically routes the caller to their nearest sexual assault service provider. You can also search your local center here. Hotline: 800.656.HOPE
•     National Sexual Violence Resource Center: This site offers a wide variety of information relating to sexual violence including a large legal resource library.
• National Organization for Victim Assistance: Founded in 1975, NOVA is the oldest national victim assistance organization of its type in the United States as the recognized leader in this noble cause.
•   National Online Resource Center on Violence Against Women: VAWnet, a project of the National Resource Center on Domestic Violence hosts a resource library home of thousands of materials on violence against women and related issues, with particular attention to its intersections with various forms of oppression.

Pedestals can be dangerous. People tend to fall off of them.

My last post described how I fell in love with my first husband. This post will describe how I fell out of love with him.

A man with any power over Zac was my favorite kind of man, and this man was making a conscious decision to be on my side. He ignored Zac and his parents saying things about me like that I was a slut and a thief and didn't shower.

I told him what Zac did to me. He was immature. My first clue to that should have been his desire to date someone nine years younger than himself. At the time, I thought I was so mature that it didn't matter, but now I know it was a combination of my maturity and his immaturity that put us on equal footing. When I told him about Zac, he was in shock. He didn't say anything really wrong, but he didn't say anything right either.

He told me that Zac wasn't even really his best friend. Zac was just this guy who wouldn't stop calling until he'd come over and hang out with him. I could relate to that. That made perfect sense to me. I knew from experience that that was Zac's M.O. Then he told me he was hanging out with Zac that night. I said I didn't want to influence his decision on whether or not to hang out with Zac, but that was a lie. I should have put an end to things the instant he told me he was still going over there that night, but I wasn't going to give up so easily on this man who I decided was to be my savior.

I called my first husband (then boyfriend) later that night, hoping to ease the conversation back to Zac and hear that he had realized it wasn't ok for him to continue their friendship. He was still at Zac's when I called and so I immediately said I would let him go and asked him to call me when he got home. After we hung up, apparently Zac got weird. He asked his best friend who he loved more, me or Zac. When my boyfriend answered that it was me, Zac went from weird to crazy. He jumped my boyfriend and repeatedly slammed his head into a coffee table. One of my other cousins was there and he described the brutality to me. He said that he let it go for a minute, thinking my boyfriend would fight back, but when that didn't happen he grabbed Zac and dragged him off my boyfriend, who immediately left.

That beating became his reason for not wanting to hang out with Zac anymore. It was completely unsatisfying to me and I was hurt that his reasons were about himself and not me. After a few months, when his anger about the beating had died down, Zac struck. While I was at work, he contacted my boyfriend to apologize. My boyfriend then brought me up and what had happened. Zac stated that was an in-person conversation and they decided to meet at mine and my boyfriend's favorite restaurant for dinner. I knew nothing of this until I called my boyfriend on my way home after work. I had thought it was finally over, but here they were, having dinner together...in our restaurant of all places. My boyfriend suggested it.

He told me it was no big deal, they talked about it over dinner and a pitcher of beer. "Who paid for the beer?" I asked angrily. There was no good answer to this, both options were equally disgusting. "I can't believe you went out with him, to OUR place, and let him buy you beer!" I was outraged. "And you discussed him abusing me like it was dinner conversation....without my knowledge!" I couldn't go to him after hearing that. Instead, I went to my friend Thomas' place. He had an open door policy and bunk beds, but most importantly, he was the one person who had saved me from Zac before and I would feel safe with him.

Why didn't I try to date Thomas instead? He was my friend. My only male friend I hadn't had sex with. That was special. That was sacred to me. He was already filling a much more important role in my life than boyfriend. Thomas was supportive that night without asking me any questions. When I started angrily texting my boyfriend, he urged me to turn off my phone and sleep on it, so I did.

The next day, I was in a slightly more rational frame of mind to talk to my boyfriend and I told him on no uncertain terms that I could not handle him being friends with Zac. No texting, no calling, no dinners, no hanging out of any kind. He agreed to those terms, but it was still incredibly hurtful that I was the one who had to set them. However, now that Zac knew my boyfriend knew, he was too scared to try anything with me and I was safe. That trumped my hurt feelings easily back then. Back then I was much more afraid than angry. Now, I am too angry to be afraid anymore.

My boyfriend had asked me to marry him before that infamous dinner with Zac and that seemed like a nice permanent way to keep safe and I did really love him. We were living with his sister at the time and she was very happy for us. I liked her a lot. When I didn't come home that night and went to Thomas' instead, I felt like I owed her an explanation. She was a social worker so, though I was nervous, I wasn't as nervous to tell her as I was to tell others. I told her my story, or at least the highlights. Her immediate reaction was, "What is wrong with your family?" If someone tells you their cousin molested them, please show them your love BEFORE you go on the attack. They are vulnerable and scared and they need immediate reassurance. I explained to her that most of them didn't know. She then lectured me on how I shouldn't get married to her brother, because I was too much of a mess. I'm not saying she was wrong, but the way she went about it was extremely rough and unsympathetic. We had gone on a walk for our little talk and when we got back she immediately wanted to talk to both of us in her living room. She criticized me harshly for not coming home that night and for going to another man's apartment. She said I needed professional help and that I shouldn't be marrying anyone until I got it. The first part was complete BS. She didn't' know anything about my friends, but if she did, she would know that not only was Thomas' the only place I felt was safe for me, it was also the only place I felt safe for the possibility of continuing my relationship with her brother. All of my female friends would have had the reaction of begging for details and then trying to get me laid by a "better" guy. She was right about the second part though, and I thought getting help was a good idea. My fiance disagreed. He went on and on about how I didn't need a psychologist or psychiatrist and that they were all quacks.

The next morning, I could hear her downstairs making fun of her brother for not knowing the difference between psychiatry and psychology. Her attitude throughout this ordeal had been less than encouraging and I was annoyed with her lack of empathy and class. I went downstairs and told her that it was a common mistake and that I didn't think it was right for her to make fun of him like that. She responded by kicking me out of her house....full blown, throwing my stuff out on her porch craziness.

So my fiance and I got an apartment together. We fought about Zac occasionally because I had PTSD and he thought I should just "get over it". It was 13 years of my life and had only stopped occurring less than one year ago...but I should just get over it. After one year, or ten, or a hundred, never tell a rape victim to just get over it. Never tell anyone who has experienced tragedy of that magnitude to get over it.

My uncle invited us to his wedding reception and of course, Zac was there with his flavor of the month. I avoided them, and everything was going alright until she came over to me. She started spouting off what a "good person" he was and how it was wrong of me to hate him for "no reason". I responded that I did not think he was a good person and I was free to hate anyone I liked. She turned to my fiance and said, "HE knows Zac is a good person." I waited, but he said nothing. I couldn't believe his silence. "Did you know Zac repeatedly bashed his head into a coffee table and that is why he isn't speaking to him?" It was a half truth, and all I felt comfortable disclosing when I had no back up. She looked shocked and said she didn't know that, but Zac was still a good person.

I ran.

I ran and sobbed and had no idea what to do. I didn't want to be anywhere near my fiance who had refused to even say that he didn't think Zac was a good person, so I wasn't going home with him, but there were guests everywhere. Someone got me inside the house in a room and several of my aunts sat with me. Some of them knew, but not all of them. One who didn't gave me some very good advice. "Decide if this is something you can live with before you marry him, because it won't change."

This past year was the first year I hadn't been raped. Being with my fiance was keeping me from being raped. If I had to be alone in my pain, at least I was physically safe. I decided I could live with that. I would have decided differently today.

I apologized to my uncle for "ruing his wedding reception" and he replied that he knew it was a possibility when he chose to invite us both. Since he knew what Zac had done, I wanted to ask him why he invited Zac at all...why would he want such a monster there for his special day, especially knowing there was a possibility that he could trigger me, or even maybe get me alone to hurt me again, but I was too scared of his answer. If he ever does want to answer me on that, I'm not scared anymore, but that's because I know the answer now. I figured it out on my own because there is only one answer. It just didn't seem as important as not offending Zac. My safety wasn't as important as offending Zac and his parents by not inviting him. It might not have been important because he didn't understand, but he's a smart man, so I think it's more likely that he was too cowardly to bother to understand.


After that, my fiance admitted that he did think the rapes were partially my fault and he wasn't going to cause a scene for me. He reiterated his promise never to speak to Zac again and I let it be. For years that's how it was and that was enough for me. Then one of my aunt's died.

One of her sons asked me if I would be willing to forgive Zac for family unity. It had been three years at this point, three years of seeing him at family gatherings and no rapes. I said I would, for my cousin who needed his family and my husband was very happy with my decision. The whole group headed over to Zac's parents house for family solace, but not many stayed long, and those who did went to bed quickly. Soon it was only me, my husband, one of my cousins, and Zac.

Zac finally approached me and asked if we could speak privately. We went out to the garage and he started to talk about his attraction to me. I tried to be nice and understanding and supportive, but before he got around to actually apologizing he ordered me to show him my tits. Shocked I emphatically said "NO!" He tried to get me to again and I left the garage. I was in shock that what I thought was going to be an apology had just been another attempt at rape. I sat down on the couch next to my husband, numb and clearly upset. My husband didn't notice, and he got up, left me, and went out on the back deck with Zac who had gestured for him to follow. They smoked their cigarettes and talked while I sat dumbfounded on the couch. My cousin noticed my state and asked me what was going on. I blurted out what had happened and he too was completely shocked.

When my husband and Zac came back in, Zac headed straight for the garage and my husband sat down next to me. "Zac wants to talk to you some more." he told me. "I don't want to talk to him." I whispered back. He got annoyed, "Why are you doing this? You promised to forgive him! Just go talk to him!" I shook my head and stayed put, reeling from his anger and his complete lack of awareness. Then he said something that made me snap. "He wants you to get him a drink too." All rational thought left my brain and I stood up. "Fine! Fine! I will go get him a drink and I will go be alone with him in that garage and I will let him do whatever he wants just like always!" I grabbed a beer from the fridge and caught my cousin's eye as I started to head out. He shook his head, his eyes clearly saying WTF are you doing? and I glanced back at my husband who looked nonplussed.

I had barely handed Zac his drink when my cousin came after me and put his body in between the two of us. "If you touch her I will kill you" he said. I pulled him back and my sanity returned "No, I don't want any fighting, I want to leave, we are leaving." My confused husband said ok and headed out the door. Zac grabbed me and told me to call him. I replied that I didn't have his number. I meant to sound scornful, but I must have just sounded afraid because he followed that up with "find me on facebook." I found him on facebook alright. I found him blocked him.

As we were driving home I filled my husband in on what had happened. He pulled into a parking lot to turn around, saying he was going back. I jumped out of the moving vehicle screaming. "No! No! You will not take me back there!" Only after he promised to take me home, did I get back into the car. The idea of this person, who had done the exact opposite of keep me safe taking me back there....it was terrifying. I said I wanted to go out with my cousin who had protected me. He was at some 24 hour diner and I wanted to be with him right then. My husband told me that if I left we would get a divorce. He also said that if I didn't stop talking about it to him we would get a divorce.

Gone were the feelings of safety that my husband had produced, gone was my respect for him as a "good man"...and at Christmas that year...he didn't talk to Zac, but he did shake his hand. I'll never forget how I felt as I watched him do that. Gone was my love for him.

The Screaming Meanie

People used to call my mom that. From what I have heard she would throw tantrums where she would lie on her back kicking and screaming yelling, "get away from me!!!" and then "come back!!" That's kind of how I feel.

I went a little crazy on facebook. I was so angry and hurt because all these wonderful people, some of whom I barely knew (or in the case of the pages of my friends who shared my blog - I didn't know at all), were offering me so much love and support for speaking out while my family remained silent. Whenever I tell anyone now-a-days, they always ask me why my family continued to associate with him for all these years. I never have an answer. I know some of them don't want to turn their back on family, but that feels like turning their back on me and who would want to consider such a monster a part of their family? And why did it only stop when I started taking a stand? Why were there years of Christmases after they knew with him there? Why did they beg me to stay when I told them I wanted to leave before he got there? I want them to answer this. It doesn't matter if I said I was ok, it should not have been ok with them.

 Finally, an aunt of mine broke the ice and very bravely commented on my outrage post. She didn't say it outright, but she was hurt. I hadn't really considered her fully part of my anger until she, like the rest of them didn't comment on my blog for support. People who hadn't known until they read the post were immediately giving me support and people who had known for 10-12 years were saying nothing. I thought that because she was across the country and didn't have any event to invite him to that her being friends with him on Facebook and not telling him directly that what he did was wrong meant that she didn't care enough to fight for me. I was hurt. I wish I hadn't hurt her though.

Then she told me things I hadn't known, like that she was only friends with him to make sure he wasn't talking about me. (I guess if Zac is reading this the cat is out of the bag, but that's ok with me) I didn't know what to say about that. I didn't really want to spy on him. What he says doesn't matter to me...but I do want to know if anyone else in my life is agreeing with him. I do want to spy on them....but I think the easier thing to do, is to just make people choose and stay away from those who still choose to associate with him, even on facebook.

She told me other things too, like that she anonymously reported him. I'm not surprised that it wasn't followed up on appropriately by the authorities...rape isn't taken nearly seriously enough.

I did tell people not to do anything, not to report it, not to tell. I begged them actually. I was 18 and 19 when I was telling people and it had only just ended the winter/spring before I was 19 (my birthday is in Aug). I was too messed up to understand what I was costing myself and others by not even trying to get him on a sex offender list. I was too scared of what might happen and I don't really have a lot of trust or faith in authority figures. We had a neighbor in our apartment complex whose girlfriend called the cops because he was suicidal. They shot his dog. I was like, "well if he wasn't suicidal before...." Now I didn't have a dog to shoot, and I wasn't suicidal, but the unpredictability of it terrified me. I had no idea what would happen. Would they be the types of cops who listened and cared or the type who wore the badge just to get the authority and the gun? Those cops would relate to my rapist more than me. Would they just shrug and tell me this was a "he said she said" case and there was nothing they could do? Or would there be a huge trial where I would have to stand up and tell everyone what happened? Admit to everyone that I said it was ok? That I didn't fight? That even though I said no, I still ended up giving in so I had let it all happen? And even worse, that it had started to be ok, that it really was just "whatever"? The very last time he had sex with me he had pulled out and came in my pants. He patted my butt then laughed and said that was too mean, he would get me some paper towels. I was so numb I had no idea that it even was mean. It was all just "whatever". If forcing me to have sex with him wasn't mean, why was it mean to cum in my pants? I needed someone to know everything I said and did and tell me none of it was my fault, but I was too scared to give a voice to that...too ashamed that they might say the opposite because I thought the opposite. In my mind, I let it all happen, and if everyone knew all the details, they might think that too.

I was dating my first husband at the time and here's where I need to take a step back. My first husband was Zac's best friend that I mentioned in the Party post. I'll give you a second to let that sink in....he was Zac's best friend. At the party, he had thought I was hitting on him because I drunkenly told him 5 or 6 times how great his hair looked since he had cut it short and gotten rid of the Jesus look. An understandable misunderstanding if there ever was one. He told one of my cousins, or they caught him looking at me and teased him, something like that....and my cousin told me on a night of another party where I was going to see him again. The spider monkey who had been impressed with Zac's tipping was out of my life and I had a sudden inspiration. This was Zac's best friend whom he loved...the only person Zac loved, many said. The moral compass who could influence Zac to make him less evil. Zac would not want this best friend of his to find out what he was doing to me. If this best friend of his loved me, he would protect me better than anyone else!

We met him at the bowling alley and he was standing in line to pay for everyone's rentals while they hung out and drank beer at a table. If I knew now what I knew then, I would have seen that they had confused goodness and being a pushover. I didn't know, and I confused the two myself. I offered to wait with him and we talked a little. He was really nice. He was nine years older than me so he seemed so different from nice guys in high school...he wasn't afraid to talk to me and seemed so smart and witty. I started to feel guilty. He was a really nice guy and I couldn't just use him....but then he started to win at bowling and it was PISSING. ZAC. OFF. Every time he bowled a strike, Zac got madder and madder and it was intoxicating! I felt so much love and lust for this person who was making Zac feel powerless and small. I wanted him. From my first husband's perspective, here was that hot chick from the party who seemed to like him and practically radiated every time he made a strike. Poor guy. He told me that he couldn't help falling in love with those smiles and with all the emotions that were behind him, I can't blame him.

After he kicked Zac's butt at bowling, the guys all decided the next stop was a strip club. My cousin who had given me a ride wasn't interested though and said he was going home. This was my chance. I turned to Zac's best friend and asked if he would give me a ride. He said sure and Zac was livid. "She voted for Bush, you know!" His best friend shrugged and grinned and went to return his shoes and I felt elated. (Also, if I knew then what I knew now, I would have known what a big deal that was...I am so ashamed of my fundamentalist christian vote.) I had to stay with this man with this power to hurt Zac. I should have stayed with him right then because before I turned away Zac grabbed me. "I will let you go and I will pay your forty dollar entry fee (I was under 21) if you have sex with me tonight."

As I saw things, Zac was offering to sell me his best friend for one last time. I wish I had seen what Zac saw though, which was that he was going to lose his best friend either way and this was his last chance.

Why didn't I just go home afterwards? Why didn't I break that agreement? Because if I did, I thought Zac would have talked his best friend out of liking me. I thought he would say horrible things about me and tell him what a slut I was and that this nice guy would run screaming for the hills. I was wrong. Agreement or not, Zac and his parents said all those things to my first husband anyway and he simply ignored them.

Neutrality

For the most part my family has chosen to remain "neutral" when it comes to me and my rapist. They like to tell me how little they hang out with him, like that should be praise worthy. "Oh well I almost never see him"...except for when I invite him to parties, or over for drinks, or to go golfing. "I pretty much never talk to him"...except when I like his posts on facebook and perform his wedding ceremony. "Obviously, I am on your side"...no you aren't. If it was abhorrent to you, you wouldn't want anything to do with him. Period. The worst is, "We didn't choose sides"...then why was he the best man at your wedding?

He thinks he had the right to do what he did and by not telling him he didn't and acting like nothing happened you are agreeing with him.

Silence DOES encourage him. It makes him feel safe and accepted. Telling me that he is getting better because he has a job and stopped drinking isn't comforting. He has done those things before...plus it just sounds like you are supporting him. The funny thing is, the best way to support him is to hold him accounbtable. Abusers will not change as long as they can get away with it. Turning your back on him and withdrawing your support is letting him know he can't get away with it. Only then can an abuser realize they need to take responsibility for their actions if they want to get better.


Here is how you know an abuser is getting better:
(Thanks again Lundy Bancroft - that man is one of my heroes)

1. Admit fully to his history of psychological, sexual, and physical abusiveness toward any current or past partners whom he abused. Denial and minimizing need to stop, including discrediting your memory of what happened. He can’t change if he is continuing to cover-up, to others or to himself, important parts of what he has done.

2. Acknowledge that the abuse was wrong, unconditionally. he needs to identify the justifications he has tended to use, including the various ways that he may have blamed you, and to talk in detail about why his behaviors were unacceptable without slipping back into defending them.

3. Acknowledge that his behavior was a choice, not a loss of control. For example, he needs to recognize that there is a moment during each incident at which he gives himself permission to become abuisive and that he chooses how far to let himself go.

4. Recognize the effects his abuse has had on you on your children, and show empathy for those. He needs to talk in detail about the short-and-long term impact that his abuse has had, including fear, loss of trust, anger, and loss of freedom and other rights. And he needs to do this without reverting to feeling sorry for himself or talking about how hard the experience has been for him.

5. Identify in detail his pattern of controlling behaviors and entitled attitudes. He needs to speak is detail about the day-to-day tactics of abuse he has used. Equally important, he must be able to identify his underlying beliefs and values that have driven those behaviors, such as considering himself entitled to constant attention, looking down on you as inferior, or believing that men aren’t responsible for their actions if “provoked” by a partner.

6. Develop respectful behaviors and attitudes to replace the abusive ones he is stopping. You can look for examples such as improving how well he listens to you during conflicts and at other times, carrying his weight of household responsibilities and child care, and supporting your independence. He has to demonstrate that he has to come to accept the fact that you have rights and that they are equal to his.

7. Reevaluate his distorted image of you, replacing it with a more positive and empathetic view. He has to recognize that he has had mental habits of focusing on and exaggerating his grievances against you and his perceptions of your weaknesses and to begin instead to compliment you and pay attention to strengths and abilities.

8. Make amends for the damage he has done. He has to develop a sense that he has a debt to you and to your children as a result of his abusiveness. He can start to make up somewhat for his actions by being consistently kind and supportive, putting his own needs on the back burner for a couple of years, talking with people whom he has mislead in regard to the abuse and admitting to them that he lied, paying for objects that he has damaged, and many other steps related to cleaning up the emotional and literal messes that his behaviors have caused. (At the same time, he needs to accept that he may never be able to fully compensate you.)

9. Accept the consequences of his actions. He should stop whining about, or blaming you for, problems that are the result of his abuse, such as your loss of desire to be sexual with him, the children’s tendency to prefer you, or the fact that he is on probation.

10. Commit to not repeating his abusive behaviors and honor that commitment. He should not place any conditions on his his improvement, such as saying that he won’t call you names as long as you don’t raise your voice to him. If he does backslide, he cannot justify his abusive behaviors by saying, “But I’ve done great for five months; you can’t expect me to be perfect,” as if a good period earned him chips to spend on occasional abuse.

11. Accept the need to give up his privileges and do so. This means saying good-bye to double standards. to flirting with other women, to taking off with his friends all week-end while you look after the children, and to being allowed to express anger while you are not.

12. Accept that overcoming abusiveness is likely to be a life long process. He at no time can claim that his work is done by saying to you, “I’ve changed but you haven’t,”  or complain that he is sick of hearing about the abuse and control and that “it’s time to get past all that.” He needs to come to terms with the fact that he will probably need to be working on his issues for good and that you may feel the effects of what he has done for many years.

13. Be willing to be accountable for his actions, both past and future. His attitude that he is above reproach has to be replaced by willingness to accept feedback and criticism, to be honest about any backsliding, and to be answerable for what he does and how it affects you and your children.

 Obviously, these were directed towards the partners of abusers...but you should be able to get the gist.

A very wise friend of mine put it perfectly, "If Zac was actively showing remorse, seeking amends, going to abuse therapy, giving himself boundaries around children, conceding his right to family events so that you could go and not be triggered, showing true humility etc etc etc...then I could understand them being supportive of that while still giving you priority...I could understand that."

But he isn't. If you try to talk to him about it and he clams up and you think he is about to punch you...then he's not even on the road to recovery yet....and by supporting his lack of recovery, you are supporting him not even bothering to try....at the expense of me...the victim...whom you say you love.

An Emotional Volcano

For years, my emotions have been like a silent, simmering, volcano with all the feelings of sadness, depression, grief, betrayal, pain, and victim-hood all just churning around together. Add a touch of anger, and my volcano exploded, covering everyone in my path with hot molten lava. We have been taught by society that it is "not nice" to express your anger. People won't like you if you express anger.

Sometimes that is true. I am finally purging and it is like a volcano has erupted and is destroying everything I knew. I am alienating people left and right, destroying our relationships….but I have hope…New things will grow, they already are with all the love and support and the wonderful people who humble me by telling me how I have inspired them in their own struggles.

I found this in an article called Life Returns to the Landscape:

After a volcanic eruption, plants re-establish themselves in stages. The plants in each stage form a community and make the environment more hospitable for other plants. Over centuries these plant communities succeed one another until a climax community is reached. The climax community may continue for a long time without striking stages until an environmental change creates opportunities for different organisms.
    
On cold lava flows, lichens are among the first pioneers. They can live without soil, clinging directly to the rocks. They begin to break the rocks down. They grow slowly, and just dry out and wait if there is no rain.
     
Meanwhile, the wind blows dust and sand into the cracks between the stones. Very slowly, tiny pockets of soil begin to form. Wind blown seeds fall into these cracks, germinate, and begin the long process of making a garden out of the volcanic wasteland.

I am growing a new garden with all of you!