#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.