Me too

I watched the movie Promising Young Woman and it was incredibly powerful. I highly recommend it to all my female friends and family, as well as the men in their lives. It sparked a lot of emotions for me, the main one being anger.

In my last post, I wrote about tapping into my rage. This movie was an excellent outlet for that because the main character devotes her life to seeking justice for her closest friend Nina who was a victim of sexual trauma, rape and abuse. It shows the story that so many women have experienced a version of in their lives, all of the steps and people involved in the demise of this young woman in order to protect the rapist. This woman acts as a vigilante out to seek justice and revenge on her friend's behalf who shortly after the horrible event took her own life as so many women end up doing.

It felt empowering to watch a movie from this lens. And it brought up a lot of emotions for me. Along with a social media post from a friend of mine, I have felt inspired to share about my experiences as a woman who supports and identifies with the #MeToo movement.

To be clear..

I do not consider myself to be a victim of rape. My experiences fall within that grey area of comfortable vs. uncomfortable, where I felt moments of powerlessness and moments of excitement and incredible confusion. As a young woman though I did have several traumatic sexual experiences that have shaped who I am today. Recently, I was talking with my girlfriend about how important it is for me to feel safe in an intimate relationship. How essentially great sex = trust and security. In my thirties, I am only now becoming solidified in this understanding and belief. 

Perhaps some of my history will help explain why.

When I was in grade 10 my best friend and I invited the boy down her street to come over to her parents house because they were out of town for the weekend. He showed up with a few friends, all boys that I would grow to become very familiar with over the years to come. They brought with them beer and weed. I proceeded to get black out drunk, as this was really the only way I knew how to drink and woke up the next morning to a mess that my friend had to help me clean up. The following weeks a rumour started to swirl amongst this group of guys that I had performed oral sex on one of the boys who came over that evening. At the time I had developed a bit of a crush on him, and because I had no recollection of what happened that night I had nothing to say for myself. Deep down I found it hard to believe that I would be capable of performing that act (which I had never done before) in such a drunken state, but it was his word against mine and I did not have anything to say because I could not remember what happened. 

It felt like he wore that story like a badge of honour, meanwhile I felt deep shame and confusion over it all. And no one even questioned the fact that he would have been taking advantage of me. I continued to spend my teenage and young adult years, socializing with him as he remained in my circle. I ended up dating one of his best friends, and it just faded away into this "history" between us that we didn't talk about. My feelings for him were confusing. I had liked him, and then after this happened I think I confused my shame and fear with feelings for him. I felt vulnerable like he had some type of hold over me, and at a time when I was just beginning to navigate my feelings for the opposite sex, and come into my own sexuality with hormones stirring, I was totally incapable of discerning the difference between sex, love, like, infatuation, and sexual trauma. It was messy, and the only thing that I felt I could do was move forward acting like it was a drunken mishap and that I was fine. As I write this post, there is still a part of me that feels like I am betraying him and that group of friends in some type of way. But that was one of my first sexual experiences, it impacted me and is a part of my story.

In the last few years of my drinking I was living in Korea. As I have heard from other friends in recovery, "alcoholism is a progressive disease" and I have always identified with that sentiment. Living in a foreign country, the recklessness of my drinking progressed, and I ended up in some very dangerous situations. Especially as a white woman in my early twenties, who wanted to believe I had it all under control. I had several encounters with men in bars and later hotel rooms, that resulted in unwanted situations where I could not discern whether I wanted what was taking place to happen or not. Yet again I was met with these feelings of confusion, and my body also responded in a confusing way. I had two experiences that happened the morning after a blackout, with men I had met the night before. I was relatively sober during these experiences, and I remember them beginning without my consent, but then adhering to them because I felt that I had gotten that far with them and I might as well continue. I left both of those situations telling myself this story that I was being wild and free, and a strong empowered woman. Looking back, neither of those experiences truly made me feel that way, and rather, they made me feel the opposite.

I do not know that I completely blame those men or believe they took advantage of me. What I do know is how those encounters shaped the way I have navigated sex and intimacy since. They influenced what I perceived my role to be in a sexual relationship. I was always clear on the power dynamic at play with sex. That as a woman, if I chose to have sex with a man, I was choosing to give some of my power away. 

How this translated for me in my long term, committed relationships with men, was through an insistence on feeling safe. And I am still learning that safety and security are crucial for me to develop a loving and fulfilling relationship with someone. I also want to be clear that the majority of my sexual experiences have been largely positive, especially those I have had with people that I was in a relationship with. 

I have also played the role of the girlfriend who dismissed her friend's story of rape. I feel deep shame about this. When a friend shared with me her experience once, I empathized with her in the moment, but ultimately left the conversation trying to convince myself that it was not true. I have since spoken to her and apologized for this. I told her that I wholeheartedly believe her and am so sorry for what she went through at that time when people were choosing to believe his story over hers.

Now, I can only do better. As a woman, I want to always hold space for other women and men to share their experiences with me. When the stories come out in the news, I believe them. I choose to believe those who speak out because I know just how much courage that takes. And they are the brave ones, who are reaching out trying to heal. If I can help them in that journey in any way possible, I will. 

Almost all of the women and a fair amount of the men in my life have had sexual trauma at the hands of a man. Watching the movie last night, reminded me that their stories are worth being told. They deserve to be heard, even if it is just in a conversation with a friend. 

If you have been a victim yourself, please know that you deserve to heal. I encourage you to seek out support for yourself, because you do not have to suffer in silence.