Rape Culture – The silencing of sufferers the world over

Today I am ANGRY and I’ll tell you why. Rape Culture… it’s silencing women time and time over. Because it’s ok to rape, if you’ve dated someone, it’s ok to rape if you were drunk, it’s ok to rape if you drug someone, it’s ok to rape if she was drunk. NO IT ISN’T! however if you read the news, hear how people talk or hear statements from actual law enforcement, this is the message they are giving to the world.

This week, in the news, we learnt of Cee Lo Green’s escape from a rape charge… because according to the LAPD, her story was “flawed” because she once dated him and had a previous sexual relationship with him. HOWEVER he is still being charged for drugging her without CONSENT… did you see that word? CONSENT? if she was drugged without consent, then how could she give consent to sex. She has no memory of what happened, other than waking up naked with him because he DRUGGED her! You can read more on this story here.

First up, let’s just obliterate the obvious myth there… YOU CAN BE RAPED by a previous boyfriend, you can be raped by someone you’ve slept with before and if you are under 16 years of age, drugged, asleep or unconscious you are incapable of giving consent in the eyes of  the law. Given that this woman was also unknowingly drugged that makes this even more sinister.

It is not ok, there is no grey area, rape is rape! There has also been a LOT of talk about the case in America of the two football players who raped a 16 year old girl while she was wasted, then posted pictures online and were both charged. But do you know what, when they were sentenced SHE got harassed and abused further by the community because they had pride in their football team. The community even tried to cover it up.

“Sons” – what can we teach them?

So what is rape culture? Here is the wikipedia definition:

Rape culture is a concept which links rape and sexual violence to the culture of a society and in which prevalent attitudes and practices normalize, excuse, tolerate, and even condone rape.

Examples of behaviors commonly associated with rape culture include victim blaming, sexual objectification, and trivializing rape. Rape culture has been used to model behavior within social groups, including prison systems and conflict areas wherewar rape is used as psychological warfare. Entire countries have also been alleged to be rape cultures.

Although the concept of rape culture is used in feminist academia, there is disagreement over what defines a rape culture and to what degree a given society meets the criteria to be considered a rape culture.

Rape culture has been observed to correlate with other social factors and behaviors. Research identifies correlation between rape myths, victim blaming and trivialization of rape with increased incidence of racism, homophobia, ageism, classism, religious intolerance and other forms of discrimination.

This is a great article that further explains what Rape Culture is “Rape Culture 101”

Whilst I’m on this subject, belittling rape is not ok. Jokes about rape are not ok. Whoever coined the term “Fraped” for Facebook (the act of writing on someone’s Facebook profile without their consent) should be vilified… it’s not cool people, stop saying it.

“You are too ugly to be raped”

As a mother of a son, I feel a responsibility to educate him on what is wrong and what is right with sex & rape. It’s not an easy subject, but that is why rape culture exists. “boys will be boys” let’s treat them to be true men, men with morals, men with compassion, men who understand that they cannot take what they want when they want it. Men who love, men that can be trusted, men who raise sons to do the same and daughters that can speak out and not be silenced.

To Protect Our Children, We Must Talk To Them About Rape – The Guardian

Mental Torture & Physical Pain

Last week I braved the decision to share my blog with my Mum, Sisters and closest friends. Two things happened. Firstly my friend sent me a message, after reading my “fight or flight” post. She explained that I probably didn’t remember but when I was sat on my bathroom floor, I actually phoned her. I am still utterly flabbergasted as I honestly can’t remember, there’s lots of gaps in my memory from shock. She said I was in a right state and she’s not surprised I don’t remember, but she’ll never forget, I described to her how I was crouched right down between the toilet and the wall, whispering to her. She even remembered me running the bath once I was sure he was gone.

The second thing to happen was a phone call from one of my sisters. She was upset at my pain and upset that she didn’t realise that he was so abusive towards me when we were together. You see I never told anyone at the time. I was duped into this world all on my own, where I didn’t want people to think badly of my boyfriend.

He never once punched me in the face, but I lost count of the amount of times I was thrown around the room, or had things thrown at me, pint glasses, remote controls. Heck I remember his alcoholic mother scooping me up off the floor at her house in the middle of the night after he’d physically thrown me out of his room because I was upset that he wouldn’t say those three little words back to me. I was a strong young woman, but this man got inside my head and fucked me up from the inside out. He manipulated and controlled me, physically and worse still mentally and emotionally. Do you know what, the emotional torture was actually worse than the physical. He broke me down until I felt worthless, “no-one else will want you”, “you’re fat” “you’re ugly” “you’re useless”. It was like he suffocated my soul with his words. I wasn’t me anymore.

They’re just a snippet of what I had to deal with, the refusal of recognition of being human, to wanting to feel loved was the worst. Making me feel like I couldn’t live without him but also making me the most miserable I’d ever been in my entire life. It didn’t just stop there either. He tormented my son, at the time he convinced me that my 2 year old was jealous of him, it wasn’t until I started my doubts in how I was living that I realised it was him that was jealous. He couldn’t stand that bond I had. When my son was just 2/3yrs old, he had him up by his throat. I didn’t witness it, but my tiny, helpless little child told me… I took him and I ran, I hid at my sister’s house (the one that didn’t know about all this). He phoned everyone he knew trying to find me. When I finally caved, he managed somehow to convince me that my son was lying, that he made it up, exaggerated. He would drive fast… as in 120mph to scare me and my son. Everything he did was to crush me and make me feel like I needed him.

I finally managed to stop it… there was a turning point when I realised that life shouldn’t and needn’t be like this anymore. So what if I was on my own for the rest of my life, it had to be better than this right?

I’d cried the most in my life in the 2 years that I was on and off with this man, it was time to reclaim my life, reclaim who I am, reclaim me. This didn’t sit well with Mr Controlling, he started to stalk me. He would phone me all the time, sit on my doorstep for ages, drive past my friends houses when I was there… repeatedly. He didn’t want me, but no-one else could have me either.

Rape was his final act of violation, his determinative deed of ruining me. But do you know what… I’m a fighter… and I’m winning. He taught me how NOT to be treated by another being. He can’t control me anymore. People like him should not exist, but they do. That’s why I’m sharing my story.

Trigger, Spark, Prompt, Provoke, Cause

I have felt super emotional this last week. Even more so with the impending exchange of contracts on our new house. I guess the feeling of not having to face living on the same street as my rapist is leaving me overwhelmed but also causing me to think about him, it & the past all the more.

I’m really not a fan of the word “Trigger”, I don’t know why, I suppose because it makes me feel weak, and I don’t like to feel weak. Because I am a bit of a control freak and it is something completely out of my control. However since he moved onto my street in June this year, life has been one big trigger. Seeing his house and knowing that he is there, his van or his car, sets off and unavoidable flicker in my brain EVERY SINGLE DAY. Before June this year, there would be occasional prompts in my life to remind me that I have all this buried in my brain, a song, a place, a smell, a nightmare, something on tv, a white van, his name, a person. It was ok though because it was only every so often after all these years. But now, now it’s like being punched in the face on a daily basis.

No matter how hard I try to keep myself occupied, it is without doubt on my mind each morning and the last thing I think of at night. I have this little cocktail or anger, resentment, frustration and sickness in my gut when I return home each day. Don’t get me wrong I am not walking around like some sort of lunatic with a raincloud over my head 24/7. I run my own business, have gorgeous children and an amazing husband. Not least I also have supportive friends, a fun social life and plenty of things that make me happy and far outweigh this dark, gloomy spot of shit. Recognising these emotions actually helps me feel better, when I try and lock them away that’s when I start turning into that irrational being I mentioned previously.

Last night at my counselling session at the Rape Crisis Centre I told my counsellor that I have been feeling really emotional this week. I have been close to tears on numerous (and quite random) occasions but also really busy with work and not sleeping all to well. I know in the run up to the move it’s just becoming overwhelming, not just the thought of not living here with him so close BUT, packing and finding lots of lovely memories as I go, some of which date back to that time when this all started. Letters from my best friend, support and love. Love letters and cards from my husband when we first got together. I was in a really bad place back then but he saw something in me still, he felt lucky to have found me, when in actual fact he was my saviour. I told her that I feel like I just need a really good cry, a release, to stop putting off embracing these emotions, happy and sad. So do you know what, I think today is the day I’m going to nurture those feelings and have a bloody good cry.

Fight or Flight

Last night as I lay in bed, not sleeping (this is a common occurrence!) I was thinking about our natural instincts to protect ourselves in danger, the two main categories being fight or flight, it’s in our genetic make up to do one of the two when faced with fear.

When I was young and very naive, talking early teens here, I remember knowing about rape and how I always said I’d scream like a banshee or kick him in the balls. However the only rape I understood at that age was of stranger rape, dark alley ways, late at night, walking on your own type rape. I think many people who haven’t been raped, probably think they’d react the same way, their “fight” instinct will kick in. Sadly it doesn’t often happen that way and in actual fact a lot in a way, although they might still be enduring the physical side of the rape, their brain has gone into flight mode… the only way they are going to get away from this unharmed is to wait until it’s over and then run like hell.

I thought back to my rape (another common occurrence whilst not sleeping). He wasn’t a stranger, he was an ex-boyfriend, I let him into my home. My 4 year old son was asleep in bed. I have only just come to terms with the fact that this wasn’t my fault. I fought and flew so to speak. After he raped me in my own living room, I fought him off, I ran straight up the stairs, and locked myself in the bathroom, where I sat in silence. He followed me upstairs. I was petrified what was going to happen next. I didn’t want my son to wake. I spent almost 2 years with this controlling, manipulating, abusive and aggressive person, I did not want to give him any reason for an outburst or attack. But I was scared as I sat on my bathroom floor, willing him in my mind to leave. Hoping like hell that my son would not wake up or worse still that he woke him up to get me out of the bathroom. After what seemed like eons he finally gave up trying to coax me out and I heard the front door shut. I sat in silence for a further 20 minutes or so until I was satisfied he’d actually gone. Then I ran the bath and got in.

I’m not sure how long I sat in the bath, once I got out, I dressed, lifted my son from his bed asleep and strapped him into the car and drove. I wasn’t sure where I was going to start with, I just wanted to get away, it was late, I felt unsafe, violated, stupid and masses of fear. I drove back to my hometown to a friend’s flat, where I spent the next 2 weeks, broken.

There is no right or wrong way to deal with what happens, you may have ideas in your head of how you will react to a situation but don’t judge others by this because in all seriousness, you will never, ever know, unless you are faced with this situation. Flight isn’t just about running away, it’s about surrendering for that moment for the greater good, it can be seen as giving up, but it’s not, it’s about survival. Fight isn’t just about fighting there and then, it’s not just about physically harming someone, but standing up for yourself if you are capable in that situation for the betterment of the outcome.

I’m still fighting.

Rape is rape, no sugarcoating it.

This blog so far has brought me solace I really wasn’t expecting, especially so soon after starting it. At the weekend I even plucked up the courage to share the blog in a parenting group I’ve been in for the last 8 years. All mother’s with children the same age, we’ve forged friendships over the internet talking privately with each other about our deepest darkest secrets, funny experiences, sad times, slummy mummy moments and well pretty much everything, we’ve all since met up and are very close friends. It dawned on me the one thing we haven’t talked about is rape. After a chilled evening, a couple of vodkas and chatting to them on Friday night, I decided to share my blog with them. I posted the link to the group of 30 and explained that I wasn’t looking for sympathy but that I wanted to share with them and talk about it.

The first to respond told me of a friend who recently opened up to her about a rape that happened 17 years ago, we chatted about it a bit, she said she wasn’t sure she handled it right, I offered advice based on my own feelings and she is going to get back in touch with her and chat to her more about it. I felt good to know that it had helped both her and hopefully her friend, knowing that she cared and understood.

Lots of responses followed that were all very heart warming and empowering, plus another lady who hinted that she too had been raped but changed her post to delete that bit but I had already seen it so talked to her about it and a 3rd lady told us all of when she was raped in her 20s but was high at the time so felt like she was to blame and couldn’t do anything about it. What I really wasn’t expecting was the respect and admiration towards me for doing this, the votes of confidence that this IS the right thing to do. I honestly thought most people would think I was mental writing about my rape experience on the internet!

With that in mind I also shared it with another group of women, a smaller group and again a similar response, a lady who’s sister was raped at 14 whilst walking her dog and a private message from another lady who was raped at 15 by an ex, she said she’s never dealt with it but because he was her ex she convinced herself that it was acceptable.

Although it is amazing to have all these women open up to me, and talking about rape openly is one of the main things I wanted from this blog, it scares the fuck out of me how many women are still blaming themselves so, so many years later. Society is a mess… it doesn’t like talking about rape and starts accusing the victim instead of dealing with how bad this is. It does not matter whether you openly invite a man into your house, whether it’s your husband, whether you were drunk, high or dressed in flesh revealing clothes, no man has the right to have sex with you without consent…. ever. When you say the word NO at any point during a date, encounter or whatever, you have clearly stated that you do not want to have sex, if he continues, it is rape. If you are asleep, unconscious or drugged, too scared to say say no, it’s still rape. No matter how he might try to sugar coat it into a mis-understanding, that he “knew” you really wanted it, that you led him on, that you asked for it, that it was “just sex” HE IS WRONG.

Take a look at this poster, sums it up really…

What is Justice?

At my weekly appointment with my counsellor at the rape crisis centre this week, I talked about the anger I have inside me. As mentioned in my first post I was raped 10 years ago and to be honest I thought I had dealt with it in my own way. I got together my now husband 6 months after it happened, and although it was still quite raw and I was prone to the odd meltdown and tears (especially after wine) he pulled me through all of it, he was and is my rock even now 10 years on.

In May this year I saw “him” for the first time in 10 years and that’s when everything started to creep out of that dusty box that had been shut away in my head. It was gradual to start with, mostly without realising I started behaving like a complete irrational being. You see I was also with “him” for almost 2 years before I left him, and then he raped me. In the time that we were together he was physically and mentally abusive. So it wasn’t just the feelings surrounding the rape that started too creep out of the box but the insecurity, the low self esteem and everything else that comes with dating a complete head-fucker control freak. After going completely nuts at my husband and crying because I couldn’t believe my behaviour, it dawned on me why I was behaving this way, so I sought help. I found the Rape Crisis Centre, it was time to exorcise some demons. I wasn’t ready 10 years ago, but now with my beautiful family, friends and some maturity I knew it had to be done.

What I wasn’t expecting to happen just a few weeks into my emotional support sessions (whilst I was waiting for a counsellor to be assigned to me) was that in actual fact my initial feelings of dred and “why was he there?” were bloody good instinct, not just paranoia. You see I thought it was strange to see him all these years later and so close to home. Turns out he bought a house on my street. To say I was hysterical when I discovered this in June would be a massive understatement. Do you know what, I do believe everything happens for a reason, and after all the hurt, torment, nightmares and pain from this, I do feel like I’m coming through the other side. I’m fighting back with the love I have around me. We’re moving, but onto bigger better things. And this all happening now is making me finally deal with the box. After it was spewed out on my doorstep, every file was in a muddle and I couldn’t process anything, I didn’t know where to start. It is still all a work in progress and was a massive shock, that’s part of what this blog is about too.

Back to the title… this week I talked about my anger and processing it. “he” wasn’t prosecuted for what he did to me, he was arrested and interviewed but once it got to CPS they didn’t think there was enough evidence for it to go to court… “he said – she said” syndrome.

One of the things I think about a lot is justice, not in the law way, but in a Karma way. I want him to be miserable, to suffer like I have over the years. To admit that he did wrong. I can’t lie, I frequently fantasise about putting dog poo through his letterbox or telling everyone here that he’s a rapist, maybe even spraying it on his door! BUT I am not that stupid, I will never lower myself to that level. The best I can do is deal with my emotions and feelings, be a better person, enjoy my life and my family and in doing so, sticking 2 fingers up to him. He tried to control me for such a long time, now I’m in control. I’m going to fight my way through this blip.

click on this image for shocking true picture of rape and justice…

I am legend

So yesterday I wrote my first entry here, I’ll be honest I have no idea where this blog will end up, how long I’ll write it or what it will achieve. I do know that I felt great writing yesterday’s post. After I posted I had this image in my head of Will Smith in I am Legend, if you haven’t seen it, think post-apocolyptic scene, it appears that Robert (Will Smith) is the only human left on the planet. Every day he broadcasts over AM radio that he’ll be in a certain place every day in the hope that there are other survivors out there.

What I wasn’t expecting after my Lets talk about rape post went up late last night, was to log in this morning to a response and 2 followers. I can’t describe how that made me feel… but I’m going to give it a bash. I thought back to when I was pregnant but didn’t know anyone pregnant so I turned to the internet and met a fab group of Mum’s. I thought about when we chatted about the mundane, the serious and the outright funny, we all connected on a common ground, being Mum’s… all totally different people. The sad times when people miscarry a pregnancy but they have each other, someone else that has been through it too is there and that makes a difference. I guess what I’m saying is, I’m not writing this blog for sympathy, I’m not writing it to wallow in self pity, it’s an outlet and this morning knowing that someone else understands what I’m talking about, well it made me feel a bit more normal. Empathy is probably a better word. Somebody else understands my need to write this shit down.

It got me thinking a little more about how much rape is a taboo subject. I did look up for support online back in June when that box was emptied from my brain, but I didn’t really find what I was looking for. I didn’t want to be treated with kid gloves, wrapped in cotton wool or read websites covered in daises like some sort of feminine hygiene product. I just wanted to know I wasn’t alone. I wanted someone to say, yep I totally understand that, I’ve been there. There is so much out there about what rape is but not so much about the aftershocks that ripple through the rest of your life, some big some small but they will and do, forever. I’m currently working out how best to deal with these and I guess I may be on a one woman crusade to make this subject approachable.

So back to the Will Smith analogy….

No more hiding from the raw truth

We’re not on our own, let’s sit down and talk about this

and get rid of this guy….

Let’s talk about rape…

Rape happens, doesn’t it? All the time. What doesn’t happen as often is speaking out about rape, and do you know why? Because people don’t know what to say if you’ve been raped, they don’t like to think about it, it’s not pleasant is it? But also because more often than not you will have been raped by someone you know. As many as 4 out of 5 rape victims know their attacker.

I’m not saying these are the only reasons, let’s not forget the self blame, the worry of not being believed, the trauma, the denial, the coping, the trying to forget it happened.

For me, it happened, and it happened over 10 years ago. The first year post-rape was the hardest, or at least I thought it was. It never really goes away but you do learn to pack it away in a little box at the back of your brain where every now and then the lid falls off the box and something seeps out into your conscious or subconscious. My subconscious is a bit of a bitch to be honest, sometimes when I’m feeling really chipper about everything in life I go to sleep happy and then WHACK… the subconscious hits me over the head with the lid of that box in the form of a dream/nightmare.

I’m a positive person generally… I try and be the best I can be and when I’m not, I look at myself and think how I can strive to be better, whether that’s my job, parenting, health, friend, wife and so on. Gradually with my big girl pants on armed with a smile on my face and love in my heart the little box has been opened less and less. Until June this year… it wasn’t just opened, I wasn’t just hit around the head with the lid… it was rattled around, tipped upside down and it’s contents spewed onto my doorstep.

Life can be a funny bugger sometimes can’t it? Just when you are on top of your game it likes to test you. Well I am tested and do you know what, my life is still amazing, I’ve the love of an adoring husband and children and I have happiness.

Yeah ok I crumbled momentarily at the thought of my rapist (ex-boyfriend) 10 years on suddenly reappearing in my life but screw him, I’m not letting him shit on my parade.

One of the things that frustrates me through all this, is how much I want to speak up but feel like I can’t. I’ve never been an attention seeker type… you know the sort, the ambiguous facebook status updates?! But I really do want to talk about it, like it’s not a banned or taboo subject, talk about it because it happens and it’s ok to talk about it, because so many women (and men) feel like they can’t talk about it,  who knows, you could be reading this thinking you wish you could talk about it too.

So there we have it, I’m here and I’m talking rape… because it happens.