#MeToo

CW - #MeToo, sexual abuse.








This week I said something out loud that I'd been thinking for a while. Speaking, rather than thinking or reading, engages different pathways in the brain. To say that admitting this thing out loud hit me harder than I expected would be an understatement.

I'd intended this blog to be me talking about it but I'm sat here struggling to write it down. I'm honestly not sure If I'm ready to step onto this path because I know it's going to hurt. I've been functional not talking about it or admitting a damn thing for 14 years. Why start now? Why? Because I know I should.

So, husband and I were having a conversation about #MeToo. Unfortunately as with a lot of women I can say Me Too. Sexual harassment in the street, workplace and even amongst friends has happened to me in the past. These tags and movements and the conversations that they are creating are fantastic because they are making us all look at what consent actually is. Planned Parenthood have a great thing called FRIES. Consent must be Freely given, Retractable, Informed, Enthusiastic and Specific. And it is this wonderful thing that brought be to the conclusion I said out loud yesterday.

I have been sexually abused. I would still struggle to say I've been raped because I still associate that word with violence even though I know, I KNOW, that this doesn't have to be the case.

In the months leading up to and just after my suicide attempt 14 years ago one of the men I lived with pressured me into sexual situations. I would "consent" because I just wanted him to leave me alone. This included consenting to be the one receiving rather than giving. This went on right up to me agreeing to penetrative sex on the promise that he would never ask me for anything again. Which of course he did.   

It's really hard for me to even think about the consent aspects of all this without ending up a victim blaming mess. I consented. Because I was depressed and alone. Because agreeing meant he would leave me alone for a while. Right up until yesterday I would have said I'd been in a dodgy sexual situation and I would have known that he was a dick. But I would have struggled to say anything harsher than that. But saying yes isn't really all there is to consent. Freely given? No I was nagged and cajoled and bullied. Retractable? No that would have made it worse and possibly violent. He wasn't given to violence generally but it had been known. Informed? Yeah I was sober most of the time but depressed enough to not really be able to make these choices. Enthusiastic? Hell no. Specific? That one was a yes. It's why there was only one case of penetrative sex. I was very specific on what I was willing to do.

So based on this did I consent? Yes. Was my consent abused? Yes. Am I struggling to deal with this right now? Yes. Will I be ok? Yes. Yes I will. Because admitting something means being able to try and heal from it.

Lone Wolf

I sometimes wonder if all humans are really pack animals. I don't think I am. I love my family and friends, don't get me wrong. But I often find it really hard to find the desire to spend time with them. Once I'm there it's great and I generally enjoy myself. But the get up and go can be hard to find.

Perhaps it's because I've become part of more social groups as I've gotten older. There are more people to see and thus more people I feel beholden to. Add to that family obligations and a job where I am customer facing (in a very demanding and hands on way) and suddenly I'm spending a lot of my time interacting with people.

I'm an introvert. I require time on my own to recharge. But getting that time feels selfish these days. Turning down friends because I want to sit on the sofa with my cats and knit feels awful when it's so hard to find time that we're all available. Shutting myself away in the bedroom because I really have no energy to interact with my husband and daughter makes me feel like a terrible wife and mother.

How can I balance all the demands that people have of me whilst not losing myself in the process?

I guess the answer is by trying my best. Making arrangements with people and trying to stick to them. Crying off when I know I need some time alone. Taking the time to sit on the sofa, or having a crazy long bath. Knowing that at times I am going to come off as frustrating and accepting that. Getting good at making apologies and being the most present version of myself that I can be when I do socialise.

I suppose that is all that I can do.

The weekly blog

So I've tasked myself this year to write a blog every week. It'd funny that I waited until the new year to start as I am so opposed to new year's resolutions. But the year started on a Monday and I liked the idea of a measurable 1 a week against the 52 of a new year.

I'm not thinking of it as a resolution though. Just like I don't think of any of the things I want to do as resolutions. It's just a to do list. I hate new year's resolutions. We all think about these giant changes we want to make and then we put them off until this arbitrary date. At which point we work really hard on them for a couple of months, realise that actually these things take quite a bit of time and effort, slack off, eventually give up. Rinse and repeat next year.

I'd rather we all took steps RIGHT NOW to make the changes that we want to make. To ourselves, to the world. Look at what you want to do. Look at all the steps it's going to take to get from A to B. Start plotting them and then just make a start. It may take more than a year. It may take your whole damn life. Don't give up if you fail or struggle. Just get right back on it again. Start over, make progress.

Life isn't just going to give you what you want. I mean, it might, stranger things have happened. But that chances are it won't. Which means work and effort and time and commitment.

So what do you want to do this year?