SCRIBBLES

10 minutes later into the “Free Churros” episode:

there is no “specific right way” to get sex, get romance, get ANYTHING from a woman… the real problem is within the idea that men want to GET something from us. many men view their relationships with women as either transactional, where he does the correct actions and “gets” sex or romance or domestic labor etc in return, or exploitative, where he is simply inherently deserving of sex and romance and domestic labor. 

that is the underpinning of incel ideology. they believe that there is a “biologcial lottery” wherein “chads” are physically attractive and therefore automatically receive exploitative sexual relationships with women, and “incels” are physically unattractive and therefore are automatically denied the exploitative sexual relationships with women that they apparently so richly “deserve.” 

“pickup artists” try to enter into transactional relationships with women, meaning that they try to codify a list of specific things to display, say, give to women that will “earn” sex. 

there is a MASSIVE FUNDAMENTAL DIFFERENCE between wanting to be IN A RELATIONSHIP with someone, and wanting to GET SOMETHING FROM someone. 

there is a MASSIVE FUNDAMENTAL DIFFERENCE between viewing relationships as things that ORGANICALLY DEVELOP BETWEEN PEOPLE DUE TO MUTUAL FEELINGS AND COMMUNICATION, and viewing relationships as A REWARD THAT YOU EARN FOR BEHAVING CORRECTLY.

My first time having sex was with a man who I had been dating. I told him that I was a virgin and that even though I liked him I did not want to have sex. He said that was fine but kept pressuring me to submit to sexual foreplay, to which I eventually reluctantly consented because he promised that we wouldn’t have sex.

When he tried to pull off my panties, I pushed his hand away and reminded him that I did not want to have sex. He reassured me that he wasn’t going to have sex with me but continued to pull them off even though I was uncomfortable. I kept saying, “No, I don’t want to have sex. I don’t want you to do that,” but he insisted up to the point when he put his penis against me that he wasn’t going to do it but then forcefully penetrated me anyway. It hurt.

At that point when I realized that all the no’s and reassurances meant nothing. I tried to shove him off me. I couldn’t, because he was nearly three times my size but he actually stopped when I did that. I said, “Why did you do that to me?” He looked confused and said, “I thought you would enjoy it.”

I was in tears. I locked myself in the bathroom. I felt so stupid and foolish and afraid. I still feel weird about considering it date-rape. I still feel like I share in the blame and guilt for what happened. Maybe I didn’t say “no” enough times? Maybe I should have tried to physically push him off of me the first time? Maybe I shouldn’t have agreed to heavy petting upon his promise not to fuck me.

I never told anyone about what happened. What really happened. I told my next boyfriend that I had been convinced to have sex when I didn’t really want to, but I never told anyone that the guy lied to get me into a compromising position and then forced his penis into me after I told him I didn’t want it nearly a dozen times.

It didn’t feel like a textbook rape. Like what we’re told to believe about strangers jumping us on the street while we’re kicking and screaming and fighting against it. It felt gray and confusing. Someone I loved and cared about abused my trust to lure me into a position where he could pretend like it was consensual when it was definitely not. I didn’t want to kick and scream and treat him like a predator. Maybe my approach was too soft because I cared about his feelings didn’t want him to feel like I was rejecting him, I just wanted him to respect my refusal to have sex.

But he didn’t.

I never reported it because even in all the mixed emotions I was feeling at the time of loss and betrayal, I still cared enough about him to not want to ruin his life with the label of “sex offender” and also it seemed to me (and still does) that the act of reporting a rape does very little to benefit the victim, more than it does just turn a private humiliation into a public one. He took my virginity from me after I told him it was off-limits, but I opted to bear the loss silently and keep my shame and undeserved guilt private.

I guess I’m hoping that finally telling my story anonymously online will help relieve some of the emotional burden I carry from it, and maybe others with similar stories will realize they’re not alone.