alphabetblogoffeminism

Sooner or later, I figured I’d be doing this. It really was just a matter of time. I was never much one for introductions so I know I won’t be doing that here, and on top of that I think any reader will learn what they need to learn by reading more about this blog. But first! I wrote a letter to myself, telling me what I had to do. I knew it all along, of course, but I needed to hear it for real, real in the way words only are when they’re written down. If they’re in your head you can lose them, and some of them do get lost, but if they’re written down than they’re real – and they really mean something. It’s a scary thing, to put words into reality, but it’s something I need to do now. So, just what DID my letter to myself say?

You need to talk or write about things that need to be said. You need to address this now, before it goes away. Your roommate’s friends are sexist. They’re racist. They’re very homophobic. They’re unsafe.

You are most unsettled by the fact that C & P make rape jokes. They make these jokes frequently, and without remorse. They know you dislike this behavior, and they ignore it. When they talk about privilege they say it in a sarcastic way that illustrates how they really feel – and the way they really feel is privileged. They feel like they have the right to be better than everyone else. They feel like they have the right to say and do whatever they want with no consequence, because they were raised with the privilege of not having to face consequences.

They are the mass of dudes who make excuses. They are the WHAT ABOUT THE MENZ?!?!?!!!1!! trolls. They think that women and blacks and gays (i.e. cunts and niggers and fags) are out to get THEM, because they are MENZ and everyone is jealous of their privilege.

So what does this really mean? It means that they feel like they deserve social dominance. They are so used to their privilege that any attempt to correct the inequality is perceived as a personal attack against them. This is an issue, because they are unspeakably egocentric. They believe that their wants trump everyone else’s needs. As a human being, I need to feel like I’m in a safe space in order to be healthy. They don’t need me to coddle their privilege in order for them to be healthy. But their want, in their eyes, trumps my needs. This is because they are DOODS and have privilege, and I am a female. Though they would never say it to my face, they believe on a subconscious level that my person is innately violable because I am a female. As for the rape jokes – they think my person is innately violable, so it’s acceptable for them to make rape jokes [edit: which are, ultimately, about how innately violable women are].

The kind of guys who make rape jokes are the kind of guys who believe it’s okay to laugh at rape jokes; are the kind of guys who laugh at rape as an experience; are the kind of guys who trivialize rape’s consequences; are the kind of guys who are perfectly okay with blaming the survivor; in short, by making rape jokes they are saying that they don’t see a problem with it, that THEY ARE OKAY WITH RAPE. And guys who are okay with rape are about five gazillion times more likely to be rapists.

C & P scare me because they might rape me.

Okay, now what? Epiphany time! You’ve noticed this for a LONG ass time. You just didn’t put it into words. Trust in your instincts. What does this say about the unfortunate roommate? Something… Something from [name removed]’s class about patriarchal compromise and women who conform to the Patriarchal values (rape is okay) in order to be rewarded by males (with relationships). She is willing to tolerate rape jokes in order to keep potential rapists as friends, just like she FAT SHAMES and SLUT SHAMES (because everyone but her is a fat slut for doing it) and SHAMES other women for NOT conforming to Patriarchal values… I have no reason whatsoever to believe she would ever take my side.

I never told her I was raped, because if I did I would have to expect her to not be friends with my rapist, and I honestly didn’t believe she would. I didn’t tell my closest friend (at the time [edit: which isn’t saying much, seeing as I wasn’t allowed to have friends and every “Girl’s Night Out” was a threat to *Shit Fucking Head’s life…]) that my boyfriend was abusive, that he RAPED me, because if I did then I would have to face the cold, hard reality that my FRIENDS would rather be comfortable socially than support me as a survivor by shunning my rapist.

There’s another two lines about other people, and then class was over and I had to stop writing. These revelations terrified me, mostly because it meant I had to acknowledge that I’m going to end up alone again for the first time since I was with Shit Fucking Head, and I don’t like to be alone. But I don’t know anyone who does, and my health is more important than anything else at this point. So here I am, starting a blog, letting the whole world know anonymously about my life, and I’m doing it because I know that I am NOT the only one. I am a survivor. We are many, we are mighty, and sooner or later, people are going to have to start acknowledging us.

-Leanne S.

*My therapist named my abusive rapist former boyfriend “Shit Fucking Head” one day in a session. I was overjoyed, as it was the most hilarious thing I have ever heard in my life and yet, somehow it still manages to fit. I have referred to him thus ever since.