Hey Thunderfoot, guess what? You’re contributing to rape culture!
You want to know what rape culture does? It silences victims. It restricts the language of victims of sexual assault and rape so that they can’t even call what happened to them sexual assault and rape. And then assholes like you turn around and use these victims as examples of the “ambiguity” of consent.
HUGE FUCKING TRIGGER WARNING!
Back in my first crazy year of college I had a friend, let’s just call him Timmy. I liked Timmy. I thought he was cute. When we first met, I wasn’t very experienced with healthy sexual relationships. Our first sexual encounter was on a school related road trip. We were both drunk and in his hotel room. We made out and then I gave him a blow job. The next morning he asked me not to tell anybody, because he has a girlfriend, and he didn’t want to ruin his relationship because of some drunken sexual encounter. At the time I was cool with it. I felt guilty for getting involved with somebody who had a girlfriend, so I decided to just not tell anybody about it and to drop my infatuation with him.
Skip over about 6-7 months, I find out Timmy doesn’t have a girlfriend anymore. He started texting me while I was at work. I was horny. So when he asked me to come over to his apartment, I jumped at it. We both knew what the visit was for. There was no ambiguity here. As soon as I got to his place we started going at it. Enthusiastic consent…at least, that’s what it started as. By this point in my life I had some more experience with sexual relationships. I knew more about what I liked and I was getting better at gauging whether or not I would orgasm. Suffice it to say, I was not going to cum that night. In fact, it started to get uncomfortable and a little painful. I pulled away a little bit. He pulled me closer. He whispered in my ear “I wanna make you cum.” I pulled away again and said,”I don’t think that’s going to happen.” He pulled me closer again. I told him I didn’t want to anymore, that I wanted him to stop.
He continued thrusting.
After a few minutes of pushing and pulling, I relented. I knew he wasn’t going to stop and it was starting to hurt a lot, so I just pretended. I faked an orgasm in order to get him to stop.
I haven’t spoken to Timmy since that night. I didn’t want to talk to him. For years I would describe this experience to friends with laughter and giggle and I just labeled it a bad sex experience. Even after starting to learn more about rape culture and the definition of consent, I still didn’t call this rape, or even assault. It was just “bad sex.”
Tonight I realized what it was. I’m not sure what exactly it was that made this click in my mind, but somewhere between talking about consent and talking about being able to say “no” at any point during sex, I suddenly realized: I was assaulted. I was raped.
For years thinking about that night made me uncomfortable, but I didn’t know what to call it. For years I was denied the language that would have allowed me to begin healing. For years I was bombarded by messages, such as the one above from Thunderfoot, saying that what I experienced was just “bad sex.” I was told that rape and sexual assault follows a certain script. I was told that if you say yes once, then that means you can’t stop what’s happening.
This is a lie.
What happened to me wasn’t just “bad sex.”
“I would bet that what one woman would calls [sic] bad sex, another would call rape. Do you disagree?”
No. I don’t disagree Thunderfoot. I don’t disagree because I WAS that woman. I was the woman who believed the lie that what happened to me was just “bad sex.” And you’re perpetuating this bullshit. You are taking the confusion about consent, bad sex vs. rape, that is purposefully and consciously injected into almost EVERY conversation about sex and consent and you’re using it to cause more confusion. You’re using it to bludgeon victims who have bought into the lies. You can’t involve yourself in perpetuating rape culture and then act fucking surprised when some women buy into the lies of rape culture.
I’m one woman who won’t buy into it though. What happened to me was rape. What happened to me was sexual assault. I don’t care if me from a year ago would have called it “bad sex.” I don’t care if me from a week ago would call it “bad sex,” because the only reason I ever characterized it as such was because of assholes like you who tried to sell me this bullshit that there is some sort of ambiguity when a girl says no or pulls away. There’s not.
Fuck you Thunderfoot.