men
This entry contains graphic recollections of rape and discussion of patriarchal abuse. You have been warned.
I used to have a baby pink metal bed frame when I was a little girl that curled into golden ratios. I spent my afternoons reading fantasy books and playing Wizard 101. My baby brother would coo from his room. My mom was probably watching a horror movie in her room. It would be a peaceful afternoon. This would be the calm before the storm that is my father. He had a temper that choked out any air left in the room. He has and always fell short, and made up for it with abusive tactics of humiliation. I never gave up the hope that boys could be good despite my experiences with my father. Time and time again though, they prove me wrong.
One of my boyfriends raped me. It was about a year into our relationship. We tried weed together for the first time and I got too high. I freaked out, and his sister had to come in the room to calm me down. She left the room and I remember watching Mean Girls on the tv, thinking it had never been this detailed. There was a chorus of different voices speaking over each other in my head. I was out of it and it was obvious. I don't remember how it happened, but next thing I know he was inside of me. He felt so much heavier than usual on top of me. It took me a while for me to realized I had been raped. When I did, I told him, and he cried. Suddenly it was about him. I don't know why I stayed, I never really learned about how to handle sexual assault or consent growing up. A lot things about rape culture had been normalized in my upbringing - men will be men - so I ended up staying with him. I watched all of my boundaries get destroyed and all I did was stay high so I could handle watching it happen. He used to buy me nicotine, and would romanticize how I act when I'm high. We were so on and off. He left for a year at some point and showed up to my door after with wilted roses and the insinuation that he was "always planning to come back". His college stories said otherwise.
I shouldn't have met his friends let alone get attached to them. Of course everything came out eventually. I've never been good at keeping my feelings to myself especially when they hurt. I wish I could because people's reactions can hurt a lot more. I ended up in a different emotional padlock with another friend of his. I just developed unrequited feelings, which wouldn't have been a big deal, if I was able to express it and walk away. I wasn't able to and it become overwhelming for me and to his credit he apologized for this recently. Seeing him recently though I came to a lot of clarity of how disgusting he leaves me feeling.
He's always been really obvious about his physical attraction to me. He's also always had a girlfriend. I blamed myself a lot for that, as if it was my presence that was a problem and not his lack of subtlety. We would end up in these conversations and situations that I would look back on and realize were disrespectful to her girlfriend. I'd always feel worse about myself after because even though I never intended to end up in that position we always would drink when we hung out. Looking back I think that was probably on purpose. I've always thought about telling his girlfriend, but she had already decided she didn't like me before we met. I didn't though because I felt like I was inheriting this responsibility to protect his relationship that he couldn't live by. It was fucked up and it wasn't fair. A hook up I had summarized it pretty well: "Sounds like he doesn't care about you, her, or himself".
We saw each other again recently and I admit I was so excited for some kind of resolution or closure. It's my fault that happened, I assumed he'd only respond if he didn't have a girlfriend anymore. I don't know why I thought that, I guess I just wanted to believe in him. We had good small talk but to be honest there were so many times I was uncomfortable. I wanted to believe him when he said he took me for granted but he still treats me like shit, I as always was just too high to notice. I don't feel like repeating the little acts of disrespect , or the disregard for his relationship, it was this in between the line admission of still being on good terms with my rapist. He didn't say it or deny it, there was just the hesitation in how he worded something that was a big tell. I imagine dating this guy, who gets visibly giddy about other girls, makes flirty jokes with them, drinks alone with them, and is willingly friends with a rapist. I thought about what it would be like to not to know any of it, to chip in to his rent, to do his emotional labor, and look forward to seeing him when he gets home. Then I overthought about how many women are dating creeps and don't even know it.
I know this is so different from my usual entries. I'm very rarely this specific about what I go through but I was getting exhausted of speaking in what I felt like was code. I kept mentioning this situation so it's clearly bothering me. Now that I can see it all laid out into words I'm realizing I've been beyond disrespected, just blatantly abused. This is my wake up call to stop getting high around men. I wish I still had some kind of childlike wonder about good ones being out there, but I don't think I have it in me anymore.
