- jenniferjennensstteele1 likes this
- ohhmary likes this
- aliciagarcia likes this
- clobberona reblogged this from ornamentedembellished
- othernotebooksareavailable likes this
- ornamentedembellished reblogged this from film-schooled
- heylabodega likes this
- quintessentiallyquirky likes this
- subjective-objective reblogged this from film-schooled
- morerobots likes this
- subjective-objective likes this
- scarygodmother likes this
- film-schooled posted this
I think of a conversation I had last year at a bar with grad school friends — we were talking about what we lost when we lost our virginities. The three women in the group, including me, had stories of sexual violence. After a few drinks, the male friend grew frustrated and admitted he didn’t understand why women were “stupid” enough to remain in situations of violence or trauma or pain when no obvious force was forcibly being forced at them, at us. He asked, “Didn’t you know he was tearing your cervix? How’d you let that happen? Why didn’t you leave?”
Why didn’t I say no, no, no.
Instead of answering him, I could have gone into even more silence, a deeper fear, an ever-widening chasm of shame. But I did not. The only way to escape being the victim, acting the victim, or blaming the victim is to stand up for the victims. I gathered up all the questions he asked me and asked them of him, to this man who is no longer my friend: “Would you know when someone you thought you loved for the first time was tearing your cervix? Do you even know what a cervix is? No? Are you stupid? Do you get called stupid because someone made a promise to love you, and you were hurt because you trusted him?”
He didn’t understand it. To understand it would be to think about it, which he didn’t want to do.
Gettin’ real tired of nice, liberal, educated men not understanding or even trying to understand the realities of violence against women. I’m about ready to lose it.