Sex, Rape and the F-Word

I am glad I was raped in 2003 as opposed to say…1963. After realizing I was assaulted a few clicks-of-the-mouse connected me to helping services on my college campus and in my hometown. Infrastructure was in place and funding was set up to help people in my very situation. To me, having these resources available was life changing and life saving.

Had I been a young woman merely 40 years earlier, my situation would have been very different. It wasn’t until the 1970s that rape crisis centers, hotlines or advocacy programs even existed. Before the 1970s a rape victim (yes, “victim” – the term “survivor” was yet-to-be coined) had few options. They were lucky if they had a friend or family member to turn to, but without any public discourse about rape and without any helping services in place, they most likely had to suffer in silence. So yeah, I’m happy to be a young survivor now as opposed to then. And I will forever be indebted to the founding mothers of the feminist anti-rape movement who got those services started.

But despite amazing feminist accomplishments the word “feminist” has a polarizing effect when uttered in mixed company. The dreaded “f” word brings up mental images of man-hating bra-burners who are driven by anger and rage. And while anger and rage are warranted when you’ve been raped or otherwise abused I’ve worked with a lot of feminists, and I would like to testify that more often than not their work is driven by love. They love themselves enough to acknowledge they deserve to be treated better than doormats, blow-ups dolls or punching bags. They love each other enough to support their brothers and sisters who've been raped or beaten or used. They love humanity enough to strive endlessly to ensure a safer world for future generations. Yet they, we, tend to get a bad name. I want to clear that up.

Regardless of your gender, if you believe that it’s worthwhile to provide helping services to rape survivors, you’re a feminist. If you believe that sexual violence is bogus and the world would be better without it, you’re a feminist. If you think women are whole people and not objects to be fucked, you are a feminist. If you’re bothering to read this blog, you’re probably a feminist. And I encourage you to claim the “f” word as part of your identity. I am honored to do so and to align myself with people who call injustice by name and dedicate their lives to fighting against it.

But just because I’m a feminist doesn’t mean I agree with all the feminists in the world. And just because I don’t agree doesn’t mean we’re enemies. We can appreciate and value one another while disagreeing. For example, an older feminist recently told me she has a staunch anti-pornography and anti-prostitution stance. I disagree with her stance because I strive to live where idealism meets strategy. In 2010 porn is down-right mainstream. It simply isn’t strategic for young feminists to work to end pornography or the sex trade. It may have been a reasonable stance in the 70s, but I don’t think it’s a relevant approach to getting work done today. But despite our differing ideologies I respect her and the work she’s done. Heck! Without her work, I wouldn't be able to do mine.

That being said, it is clear to me that the anti-rape movement is in the midst of a paradigm shift. And when the movement successfully shifts to sex-positive, I hope we can do it with the understanding and support of the feminists who came before us. Similarly, us young feminists need to understand that our work may not be relevant or even appreciated by future generations. But that is okay. Because in order for feminism to thrive we need to constantly adapt to the changing world, and we must love and support one another through those changes. (Luckily, this plays to our strengths).

I was raped in 2003 by a friend, a man with whom I’d had a previous sexual relationship. I didn’t even know that what happened to me was rape. I was never explicitly taught that I should expect to be respected in the bedroom. No one told me to expect pleasure. So it didn’t immediately occur to me as problematic that neither of these things were happening. Months later I confided in a friend that “he had sex with me” and my friend responded, “did he have ‘sex with you’? Or did he rape you?” Before that, it hadn’t even occurred to me that I had been raped. But it was healing and relieving to call it by name. Yes, he did rape me. That is why I’m crying so much of the time. That is why I lost my appetite, my joy. That is why I lost my ability to find happiness in my first true love: music. Because he raped me.

I hope that future generations can take for granted the difference between rape and sex. I hope that the status quo becomes expecting pleasure, respect and most of all, CONSENT, regardless of your gender. Because as it stands, I truly don’t think you have to be a terrible person to commit rape. All you have to do is follow the status quo.

Thankfully, things are much better than they used to be. But we’ve still got a long way to go...

Gender and Sexual Violence

Before I get into the "meat" of this post, I want start with a quick Biology/Sociology lesson: "Sex" is a biological term that refers to the bits you were born with (penis, vagina or intersexed). "Gender" is a sociological term that refers to identity. Check this out for a useful (and pretty awesome) visual definition.

Okay so...when folks talk about sexual violence its common to use the pronoun "she" for the victim/survivor and "he" for the perpetrator(s). This is not without understandable reason. After all, the majority of survivors are women and the vast majority of perpetrators (98-99%) are men. (It is important to note that while most perpetrators are men, most men are not perpetrators). But despite the statistics, I think our use of gendered pronouns (in general and in terms of sexual violence) warrants some examination.

Previous posts have discussed barriers to "coming out" as a rape survivor. The fear of not being believed or of being blamed are two barriers that can impact survivors of all genders. But for survivors who aren't women, common myths and misconceptions make it even harder to come forward.

For example, some folks believe that a man will be "turned gay" if he is raped by another man, despite the fact that there is zero scientific evidence which supports that theory. And plenty of folks believe that it's not even possible for men to be raped (even though 1 in 6 boys will be sexually abused or assaulted before their 18th birthdays and that 1 in 10-33 men will be sexually assaulted within their lifetime).

For transgendered people the barriers to coming out as a survivor can be even greater. (Transgender is a new term to lots of folks. In short, it describes folks whose biological sex is not "in line" with their gender, as it is traditionally understood. If you're unfamiliar or would like more information please check out these sites). In addition to dealing with myths about rape, transfolk have to deal with prejudices against their very identity. Medical staff, legal officials nor the general population are given sufficient training about the specific needs of trangendered people. As a result, trans survivors may be met with misunderstanding, or worse, blatant bigotry when they seek support.

Since it's arguably harder for people who aren't both biological females and sociological women to come out as survivors, I think our movement needs to go out of it's way to give men and trans survivors more of a voice.

We, as a movement, have tended toward using language that indicates 1) only women get raped and 2) only two genders exist. In doing so, we are effectively erasing the experiences of many survivors. So let's cut it out already!

I propose we change the way we talk about rape. First of all, don't assume all survivors are female (or that all perpetrators are male). And when you talk about gender (in terms of sexual assault, or in general), change your language slightly to say things like "all genders" instead of "both genders." Of course, this is just a start. There is much more work to be done before trans and male survivors will have ready access to the support they deserve. But I've learned to appreciate "baby steps." So let's have at it!

Thanks to the very fabulous Cat for your help with this post (you really are VERY fabulous)!