Monsters live among us. The only problem is that there aren’t more of them.
“You must have misunderstood him.” The words rattled around my head, unsettling me. How could I have misunderstood him? The evidence – torn clothing, bloodied razor blades, notes in his own handwriting, pictures, death threats – sat before me, piled limply in the bottom of a green plastic box. (The box that was topped by a note saying “If I ever don’t come home…” and stashed in my closet where my roommate who always borrowed my clothes would surely find it.) Not to mention the bruises left on my skin. And yet his hold on me was compelling enough that even staring myself down in the mirror, my eyes tired and blank, I began to doubt my own reality. Had it really happened? Had it happened the way I remembered it? If so, did it matter? What had I done to make this happen? Was I overreacting?
That phrase and the seeds of doubt it planted- ones that grew into full choking vines by the time I finally testified against him in court – were not planted by my abusive ex-boyfriend. It was, in fact, put there by one of my best friends. Even now, years later, it chills me to write that. But there you have it: The day after my ex sexually assaulted me (another sentence that still chills me to write), I told my close friend what had happened. I probably should have told someone else, someone in a better position to help me, but I was young, terrified, exhausted and very broken. Months of being told I was ugly, stupid, fat and un-loveable had worn me down to the point where I couldn’t trust myself even to take care of myself. So I put myself in my friend’s hands. He was my ex’s friend too and I knew he would understand the situation better than anyone.
“You must have misunderstood him,” he pronounced finally after I finished my story.
I stifled my confusion, my questions, my hurt. “It just can’t happen again,” I pleaded through my sobs.
“I’ll talk to him,” he laid my head on his shoulder and put his arm around me. “It won’t.”
But it did. And this time I told no one.
Thankfully the second time was bad enough (what does “enough” even mean in a situation like this?) that it impelled me to break up, get out, escape. And while I went on to graduate with my Master’s degree, get married and even have two babies, the door I thought I’d slammed shut behind me still sometimes blew open, mostly at night, mostly when I was vulnerable to ghosts. I struggled with the nightmares and self-doubt, churning with guilt over the memories I kept trying not to remember, either until dawn came or I threw up. I was always, always doubting the reality of it – maybe it really was all just a terrible misunderstanding? It wasn’t until at last it was dragged out into the light of day, thanks to a courageous girl who wasn’t cowed by him and went to the police, that I was able to see the abuse for what it was and say it out loud.
The court case was its own special hell – and one I’ve written extensively about on here before so I won’t cover old territory – but here’s the worst detail: Because of the way the court was arranged, my ex was seated right behind the microphone the other victims (oh yes, plural) and I used to address the judge. I could have sat down in his lap. Here’s the second-to-worst detail: my friend, the one who had seen the damage first hand, was seated right behind my ex. He was there to support him.
All of us felt immensely betrayed by my friend – and while I won’t detail all his alleged crimes, I’ll just say that he had knowledge of many more “incidents” besides mine, and leave it at that. At the time I wasn’t able to explain it but I hated my friend worse than I hated my ex at that moment. Actually, I hated him for a really long time.
Several years later, a friend of a friend got engaged to my friend (still with me? I need to just think of a pseudonym already) and I lost it. I was afraid she’d be offered up like a sacrificial lamb to the altar of my ex’s ego. My hysteria led to a long-distance phone call with my friend. It had been years but he sounded exactly the same when he picked up the phone. His voice brought back a rush of emotions.
“How could you know about that – about what he did to me – and still have let it happen over and over again?” I asked through clenched teeth. I left my real question – Why didn’t you save me? – unasked. Because I knew the answer. Girls like me are disposable. I was not the princess that knights fought to save. I was the animal sacrificed so that other girls could be saved.
“You must have misunderstood me,” he answered and my skin crawled. My brain reeled as he explained that at the time he had had no idea how bad it was and that he was young too and didn’t understand the import of what I was telling him. When I confronted him with various pieces of evidence of his complicity, he always responded the same – that he didn’t realize how bad it was, that he wasn’t covering for my ex and if he’d known he would have helped me and the others. By the end of the call we’d come to an uneasy peace. He said he’d done the best he could with the information he had at the time and I couldn’t argue with that. Perhaps he truly did. I finally had to just realize that while I still thought what he did was shady, it wasn’t criminal and perhaps in a way he was a secondary victim of my ex. My ex had a powerful way of manipulating people into doing what he wanted and in the end my friend, for all his faults, was still who he had always been. I had once adored him and part of me still saw in him that funny, entertaining, elegant person he was – and that person wasn’t a monster.
Unfortunately.
See, with a monster, it makes sense for them to be evil and hurt people – that’s just what monsters do. We storm their castles, fight them and lock them up – that’s just what we do. And that model works well for your Ted Bundys and Jeffrey Dahmers. But what about all the flawed people who do bad things, sometimes really bad things, who can’t be written off as monsters, as pure evil? What about those people, who are in the end, all of us?
The other day I got a comment on a really old post I’d written about my assault. It reads,
“I wanted to ask you more about your friend, this super-close male friend who you later found out knew about and blew off your assault. Did you ever get to confront him? Was his behavior typical of your and X’s mutual friends? I just don’t get it. Why would he be loyal to X over you? It’s such a multifacted betrayal, coming at you from every direction: first your boyfriend, then your mutual friends, then even your close male friend. Who did you have in your corner?”
I was momentarily stunned when I read it – mostly because that’s generally not the part of the story people tend to focus on and yet it is still such a tender spot for me. So I answered her, explaining that one of the first things my ex did was isolate me from most of my friends and family so I really didn’t have anyone, giving an abbreviated version of the above story. Then I added, “Do I wish he [my friend] would have protected me? Yes. Do I wish he would have supported me? Absolutely. But perhaps he really didn’t understand what was going on. Or perhaps he just didn’t have the capacity to deal with it in a helpful way at that time. In the end we’ve put it behind us and while we haven’t stayed in touch I think we ended on fairly good terms.” Then I asked her why she wanted to know (the paranoid part of my brain had kicked in by that point).
She wrote a measured and deeply interesting response (which I got her permission to share with you):
“I asked you because while I can accept that there are bad men and women out there who manipulate and hurt people, I have a harder time accepting (the apparently true fact) that our entire society helps them out. It’s not just your story; I read about a woman who was shunned from a group game night (both males and females in the group) because she accused a male member of groping her and trying to kiss her. The group didn’t deny that the assault had happened, just didn’t agree that it was a serious offense. Other stories that stick with me are ones about family members covering for abusers in their midst. Victims don’t have control over whether they’re targeted, so I guess that I just pin my hopes on the idea that if I’m ever targeted, someone will come to my defense, someone will help me. So to see the nearest and dearest of the victims participate in the abuse… I can make sense of the abuser – he’s either a very disturbed or awful human being. But what do I make of those who stand by? Can I write them off as terrible people? (Your point that they themselves can be duped by the abusers is an important one.) It makes me think that ever knowing who to trust is very difficult, since the bad guys seem to always have more support than the victims.I was never assaulted. (Well…I’ve had my share of close calls, especially in foreign countries. I was lucky enough to get away.) I come from a loving family. But I still have that, “But for the grace of God, there go I” sense. Yes my family is loving, but it was also never tested in that way. We talk about rape culture, but it’s deeper than that, isn’t it. It’s about trusting and admiring charismatic people, enjoying the peace of the status quo, believing that men have special rights and women have special responsibilities, and yes, probably cowardice. It scares me to my core to think that many of us share these traits, that many of us are susceptible to being duped by abusers.I hope I didn’t dig up unpleasant memories for you on flimsy grounds. Thank you so much for talking and sharing. But yes, I’m not a survivor; I’m just another woman who’s watching these interactions, wide-eyed. It’s scary and frustrating.”
Wow! What a powerful post!
I think the main things we can do in order to feel a little less helpless are to develop & trust our instincts, and to learn at least basic self-defense. They won’t always stop the bad things from happening, but sometimes they can take away the crushing fear. (And I certainly don’t want to sound as if I’m blaming the victim, ever.)
There have been times when I’ve witnessed an odd or potentially dangerous situation & called 911. All too often, that was the only call they received, despite the fact there were many others who witnessed the same thing. I always have to remind myself not to take it for granted that someone else will help.
On the other hand, there are numerous instances when complete strangers have helped me or someone I love.
Which goes a long way toward restoring my faith in humanity.
I think we have to start by eliminating the idea that there are good people and bad people. There are people in this world, and they all do things that are good and bad. I think we need to be careful not to label people who are abusive or violent as demons or monsters. Sure, their actions are abhorrent, but this label often it more difficult for people to comprehend how someone they know can commit violence. Family members or friends of abusers say “He (or she) couldn’t have done that. He’s such a good person.” Abuse is dismissed (or even worse, justified) because people are trying to make sense of situation where a person, who they know not as a demon, may have harmed another person, We need to acknowledge and confront the fact that there are people in our society that think they have the right to harm another person. Those people may also give to charity, be supportive to friends, and caring to family members. There can be overlap, and the overlap still requires us to hold people accountable for their actions.
Wow – and double wow ! Courtney’s response is what I would have tried so say, but I think she said it so much better than I could.
Unfortunately, I can relate to your story. I lived in an abusive relationship for several years in college. He would beat me up when he was drunk – and everyone knew about it.
I was not as brave as you. I never went to court. I escaped when I got a scholarship to go to Canada. There I gained my sense of self-worth back and when I got home, I moved out.
I have afterwards confronted many of my friends and asked why they did not help me. Of all my friends, there was only one who did. She kept on asking me to move out, to leave him. When I finally did, she opened her doors to her apartment and she also set me up with a therapist. I am not sure if I would have made it without her; she made all the difference in the world! I can never thank her enough.
But all the rest kept quiet, and some have later questioned my experiences in exactly the same way as your friend did. Maybe I misunderstood him? Was it really so bad? Yes, he became like Mr Jekyll when he was drunk, and later it turned out that he was an alcoholic (who, to his defense, he has dealt with by staying sober since!). But can it really be called abuse?
Even my parents bailed out. I came to their house, bloody and beaten up early in the morning, and they pretended that nothing had happened. That everything was OK. Today the tell me that they don’t remember it.
And I have doubted, ever since, that it really did happen. Perhaps I am insane; perhaps I just dreamt it all up. Although I know exactly what happened, every single time. How he beat me up when I was in a cast after a knee surgery, because I couldn’t have sex with him. How he kicked me in my stomach when I lay on the hall floor and said I was fat and ugly. How he once beat me up on a street and some young teenager guys came running to my defense. Etc. I remember every single incident, but nobody, except one friend, believes me. And I even doubt it myself.
How can it happen? What mechanisms are in place? It is scary!
Please dont EVER blame yourself – i went through something similar in my 20’s people knew and no one helped – in the end I got myself out of it and at the end of the day this is common people dont want to acknowledge the bad part of people in society.
Violent men are the pariahs of society and any woman who has had this experience you and i can say yes they are monsters for that period they are hurting people.
Many women are suffering even now there’s a lot of it hidden, well done for getting out! xxxxxx
But what do you do when you encourage someone to leave/get help and they ignore you? And you’re left feeling helpless and frustrated? Suggestions?
Gaye
I think it is frustrating when someone chooses not to leave. All you can do is make it a standing offer and be there when they need you. They might just not be ready yet, be there when they are.
This is a very powerful post and I hate to nitpick, but I just wanted to throw in the Wikipedia article about Kitty Genovese because this statement: dozens of people watched Kitty Genovese be brutally murdered over a 30-minute period and not a single one even called the police, assuming someone else was taking care of it. is not entirely accurate.
None of the witnesses saw the attack in its entirety (there were three separate attacks in three different locations throughout the apartment complex) and most did not recognize the severity with only two witnesses even being aware that she had been stabbed. And one of those witnesses did call the police.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Murder_of_Kitty_Genovese
But the bystander effect is still true. I don’t remember where I heard it, but I know someone once told me that if you are being attacked, you’re better off yelling “Fire!” than “Rape!” because it is more likely that someone will attempt to help.
I think that whenever people face a horrible, irrational, unexplainable evil, they start to rationalize. If there’s a reason why it happened, then they can simply avoid engaging in the same behavior, and they’ll be safe.
Was the rape victim’s skirt too short? No problem, I’ll dress modestly and I won’t get raped. Was murder victim living in the ghetto? No problem, I don’t live in the ghetto, I won’t get killed. Was the cancer victim a smoker? No problem, I don’t smoke, I won’t die of cancer. Did my friend sexually assault these women? No problem, it was just a misunderstanding, nothing bad will happen again. We’re all safe.
When I hear stories about families and friends blaming sexual assault victims, I think this is what is happening. It’s psychologically easier to come up with excuses as to why it’s the victim’s fault (too sexy, too drunk, too whatever), than to accept that evil lives amongst us, and that it is unpredictable and irrational.
The horrible reality is that, of course, none of these rationalizations really matter. You can live your entire life shrouded in a burka living under purdah and still get raped. You can live in the nicest gated community and still get murdered. You can exercise every day while eating a 100% organic, whole foods diet and still die from cancer.
Perhaps your friend was afraid of that reality? If his friend truly was sexually assaulting women, that would make his friend evil, and how could that be? Evil is something that happens to distant people in distant places. It must all be a misunderstanding.
This is a fascinating post Charlotte.
I wonder sometimes at the brutality of people as groups. At how people are able to shy away from what makes themselves uncomfortable and convince themselves that things they see aren’t so bad, simply because they dont’/won’t/can’t believe someone would do something so terrible, or they’ve become jaded to things because of terrible things that have happened to them. Unfortunately, the world is very accomodating. And sometimes people are dealing with their own demons and don’t have the strength to help or stop others…but I like to hope that overall, we can. That overall most people, given the opportunity, would do or say the right thing…*something*.
Having dealt with something like this in my own life on a lesser scale, I am overly sensitive to society’s oversexualization and leery creepy attitude that often is given to women in the “real world”. Often I leave public events disgusted at how I am treated by complete strangers who feel that it is their right to objectify me and try to leer and grope at me simply because I’m there. And yet, I’ve had my faith restored in people form time to time, when people I hardly know or even strangers act with integrity, stand up for others or apologise for something they do the instant they realise it was too much or too far. A few of my now close friends showed themselves to be true gentlemen when I first met them in how they acted and reacted to things and knowing there are people out there living with dignity and respect gives me hope that their examples will remind other people what is right. I just try and be “that person” for others…
Just wanted to say that I thought this was beautifully written and will definitely stick with me.
“I think that whenever people face a horrible, irrational, unexplainable evil, they start to rationalize. If there’s a reason why it happened, then they can simply avoid engaging in the same behavior, and they’ll be safe. ”
That’s what I think as well. For my best friend, I did step in with one of her boyfriends (the one I set her up with…so I feel like the whole situation was my fault), but I couldn’t fix the situation until she finally ended it. And I’m still a bit afraid of the fact that I pinned him up against a bar by his throat and threatened to kill him – it’s really not in my nature, but she’s like a sister to me. It takes a lot to push me to that point, but I know I’d do it again for a family member or close friend.
I also agree with the fact that you can’t separate people into “good ” and “bad”, because I’ve been the person that steps up (mostly by saving animals), but I also wonder at times (based on the previous situation) if I could be one of the monsters.
No, you are not one of the monsters. There is a difference between hurting someone to protect someone else, and hurting someone because it makes you feel powerful.
What Heather said. Absolutely, unequivocally, and completely.
I can’t tell anyone else that they should share my opinion, but I definitely have my own on the matter.
Back in college, I was bullied. People said all kinds of nasty things about me, locked me out of certain activities, tried to spread a false bad reputation about me, etc. I knew the people who were doing it, and they and I had some mutual friends.
I will never see those friends the same way, ever again. Some of these are my closest friends even…but the stain of their having an alliance with my bullies is never going to go away until said friendship does. If they are going to be friends with these people, I lose respect for them, because it turns them into bystanders. How can someone enjoy the company of a person who is making someone else’s life miserable for personal amusement? They say I just don’t understand, that they think it’s okay to be friends with these people while disapproving of those actions…but society will never punish bullies if they keep giving them attention.
I personally consider bystanding, to verbify it, to be a lesser but clearly present vice/evil/sin/whatever you want to call it.
I have been wondering how the staff at Penn could ignore what Sandusky did but I guess it is the same phenomenon.
I have a horrible memory of being in college and on the Amtrak the woman behind me was screaming at her kid and belittling hera nd the little girl was crying like she was scared. At the time I wanted to intervene because it seemed like it was head to physical abuse, but thought maybe that was out of line and also I was really shy. I have always been haunted that I didn’t err on the side of protecting the little girl.
I’m sorry that the people you should have been able to count on didn’t seem to know how to find the courage to do the right thing. To be hurting AND feel alone must be terrible.
I speak up when I see/hear things I don’t think are right and I’m trying to teach my children the same (bigoted remarks, bullying, unsupervised kids doing something dangerous).
However, that concept hasn’t ever been challenged by a family member or close friend doing something heinous. I like to think that I’d know the right thing to do and keep away from denial and enabling. I did tell someone close to me that I’d call the cops myself if I suspected intoxicated driving, that I wasn’t going to wait for someone to get hurt. So I hope I have “the guts” in other serious situations.
This is what rape culture is. The bystander effect is SO much more pronounced when it comes to sexual assault. Society regularly either supports or at least ignore rapists. We make excuses for them, find all the ways the victim was at fault, and keep being friends with them. I have seen so many people on Captain Awkward (advice columnist) who write in because they were assaulted or threatened by a friend and their group of friends turns on THEM and not the attacker. In our culture we don’t have a place for people who act like decent people to most of their friends and assault someone else. They are either a good person who is misrepresented or misunderstood or they are a monster. And since we all know we would never be friends with a monster, it had to be option 1. Until people understand that most rapists are friends, co-workers and ordinary people and not monsters in dark alleyways we will never solve this issue. This is also why we still new feminism (pay gap as well but this is the most life-effecting reason). Because women are gsrunteed to go through hell of they ever try to confront an abuset
I am still baffled. When I left our Junior year things happened and nobody clued me into what life-changing events occured in my absense. I mistakenly came back into the group thinking everyone had fared as well as I did that year. I am so sorry that I hid in my cacoon and couldn’t seen anyone’s troubles but my own. Going off to college a yer later didn’t help our relationship stay close either. I apologize for not being there for you when you needed me. I missed you, but didn’t know where to contact you and didn’t bother to find out. Again I am sorry. If I had known I would have called the police for you. I would have believed you and taken action. Nobody treats my friend like that, nobody. I am like those that step in on the show, “What would you do?” I cannot stand when others in sociey let inapproprate behavior happen and do nothing about it. Usually I am told to mind my own buisiness or to learn my place. Too bad I never learn. I guess that is why he isolated you so that nobody would believe you. I am glad you eventually found the courage to save yourself, though. We usually learn more from the experience when we don’t wait for a rescue.
Hi Michelle! Um, I actually have NO idea what you are talking about? I’m really confused what you’re apologizing for. What happened junior year?! (I’m assuming you mean high school?)
Oh, this is so hard to think about. I feel like I’ve been the bystander, the whistle-blower, and also the bystander on my own behalf, where things happened to me that I couldn’t take seriously because no one else did.
Given how social human beings are as a species, we often depend on others’ reactions to evaluate a situation. This is an important developmental step for infants (e.g. the Visual Cliff experiments, where babies look to their moms to figure out whether to be afraid). But that means it’s really hard to be the only person who says “Stop!” Social norms are so very powerful.
I think the one thing we can ALWAYS do, even if we aren’t able to go against the herd, is validate the experience of the victim/survivor. We don’t always need to evaluate the objective truth or be judge and jury. We just need to be able to sit down and listen to someone else’s pain and let them know that we see it is real, and support them.
I’d like to think that your friend just couldn’t imagine his friend doing something so awful to you. But even then, he could and should have responded to how violated you felt.
Such a thought provoking post Charlotte.. That ABC show, What would you do, where they film things happening – not good things – and see if people will intervene.. it says a lot! Thank you for sharing!
What I would like to know is why a video game like this exists and no one is outraged. In my opinion, any grown man playing this game is condoning violence towards women. When I discovered my son had it, I took it away from him. Another copy reappeared. I spoke to him about what was in the game (which he openly admitted, but until today, I had only heard about, not seen it with my own eyes). I bribed him to give me the game, which I thought worked, but he had another copy of it, I found out later. But why, why, why does no one who plays this game think anything is wrong with this? Why does no one complain?
I apologize if this offends anyone out there. But if your son or daughter is playing Grand Theft Auto or one of the other games with these types of graphics, you really ought to know about it.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4L0SQs9kjI0
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4njlTBGVduc
yes i agree a disgusting game, just like the ones who depict prostitutes with violence young minds ARE open to suggestion and influenced
From my own experience with my family, part of why they “soft-pedaled” what my ex did is because it’s so unnatural to believe that someone who professes to love you (or your daughter, or son) would ever behave in such a monstrous manner, so all you are even able to assume is that you must have all misunderstood what went on.
(Trigger warning)
My ex didn’t hit me, but that was the only violence that wasn’t done. He threw things because he liked to watch me have to clean them up. He would drink and go into alcohol-fueled ranges. He assaulted me sexually. It didn’t stop there and I wasn’t his only target. I was isolated from friends and partially from family because I was so embarrassed by how he treated me. He wasn’t even one of those really charismatic guys; he was just a sullen, brutal man who had learned to put a veneer of depth and caring over an incredibly damaged and damaging psyche. I kept thinking if I just explained it to him enough that you don’t treat people you love this way that he’d get it.
He never did.
What I can say is the little I did hear from people who explained this was wrong had a huge impact on my decision to leave. One of my friends told me, as I was relating another of his insane bouts, “Amanda, that’s abusive!” I explained — as I always did — that no, he was just stressed/ drunk/ provoked, etc. But her statement stuck. And when others pointed out that although I may feel that I made my bed and I should go ahead and lie in it, my children had no choice and *my* choice to remain with this man (their father) meant they were going to grow up thinking the way he treated me was normal, that it was how it was supposed to be.
Then there was the time my then-three-year-old stood in between his father and me, looked up, and said very sternly “You don’t talk to my Mommy like that!” It cut me to the core. He was too young to have to stand up.
But he was too young to have absorbed the message that you don’t do things like that. So he did, because it was right. And in all that time, he is the only person who directly stood between my ex and me during countless incidents.
Less than a year after that event, I left.
I’ve never regretted it.
thank you for sharing this. it is a post i wont forget. i used to be abused as a kid and remember not knowing it was something special. i dreamed about adoption but never said a single word to my teachers who were coworkers of my parents. as i grew up i developed kind of a tic that forces me to say something when someone is treated unjust or has to suffer from abuse.
its sure scary for people without experience to learn that evil things happen in the livingrooms of their neighbors or friends. ive always hated the word monster when it comes to people killing or abusing.others. i believe that even killers arent only killers. in germany we had a guy steal, abuse and rape a little boy. in his “realr” life he had a family with kids and a house in the suburbs. nobody ever believed he had this evil side in him too.
again: thank you for this post!
puja
I think that, for a lot of people, they don’t want to admit when bad things happened because it just makes them feel too uncomfortable. If you don’t admit it, or make excuses, or think it was all a “misunderstanding,” or worse, an exaggeration, then you don’t have to deal with it. In my own experience, something bad happened when I was in grade school and was left with a so-called friend of the family. Decades later, I still haven’t told my parents, because I know they would try to find a way to deny it or say I was exaggerating. My parents aren’t “monsters,” but they are, indeed, very flawed people, pretty much the textbook examples of “denial.” If you want to see them run for it, just bring up anything too emotional or unpleasant. I don’t judge them too harshly because I am also a very private, conflict-averse person. So I think that people who do speak up are very brave.
What a saddening (by really well written)! And your reader is really a remarkable woman. What is really scary how ridiculously common domestic violence is! It needs to be talked about a lot more and be a more public issue. I think that there is something really wrong with someone who can sit back and support an offender. And obviously something really wrong with the offender.
When I was a teenager I was in a horrible situation with my parents. It was occasionally physically abusive but never sexual. I was essentially slave labour. I had quantifiable proof, working 40+ hours/week in the family business for nothing, cooking, cleaning, looking after my 4 siblings and sometimes being beaten if things weren’t done properly.
I went to the school counselor, which took so much courage. She called my father and step-mother in and talked to them. She then told me that they really loved me, and that I was just exaggerating. I really paid for that when I got home. I learned from that to never trust anyone else to help me. I’m now the type of person who will step in, who will call the police because I remember how I felt when no-one would help me.
Years later my Aunt apologised for not doing anything to help. When I asked her why, she didn’t have an answer.
I’m thinking too that being let down like this from those who were in a position to help me made me believe, for years, that I was not worth helping, a belief I still struggle with.
Wow, I am so grateful that you posted this when you did. Just yesterday, I saw a facebook photo of a guy I dated for 6 weeks, 10 years ago, who raped me several times. At the time, I was too sleep-deprived and, yes as you say, stunned that had happened to do anything about it right away. It wasn’t until I was hit by a slow-moving pick-up truck that didn’t hurt me but shook me up enough to realize what was happening in my relationship, and I broke up with him the next day.
This rapist turns out to be married with a beautiful child, and so close with a couple I know that the couples dressed up as each other for a costume party. My friends work in social justice, and yet I know that they would have the same incredulous reactions (“there must have been some misunderstanding”) if they knew what had happened. That was how so many so-called feminists I knew at the time reacted when they found out, and then they shunned me. I guessed that they thought that I had made up the story because I was more religious than they were, and must have been ashamed at what I agreed to, and then revised the story afterwards. Meanwhile the rapist’s close female friend has been in the newspaper for getting arrested at a feminist demonstration, and yet she abandoned her feminist ideals when it really counted 10 years ago when she refused to even consider that her close friend might be a rapist.
Anyhow, yesterday I kept thinking about this issue, and felt disturbed for a few hours at seeing those pictures and how this rapist is close with my friends, so I’m so glad to see your blog post today.
Captain Awkward has a really good post in a similar vein, and some suggestions on what we need to do, as a society, to stop tolerating a spectrum of unacceptable behaviours – I’d encourage you to check it out: http://captainawkward.com/2012/08/07/322-323-my-friend-group-has-a-case-of-the-creepy-dude-how-do-we-clear-that-up/.
It really struck a chord with me.