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I had expected some sort of catharsis, or release, or knowledge or something, but it wasn’t like that. It was just like — this nameless sadness that seemed to have no bottom ran out, and where it had been there was nothing.
Shortly after my retreat, I was reading a Savage Love where a woman talked about a male friend of hers trying to finger her when he was drunk.
Having a bunch of big, jock friends made people less inclined to fuck with me. In retrospect, I think I may have had an especially bad run because I am a bisexual woman.
Still, between the ages of about 12–14, I had been bombarded with so much sexual harassment that I had normalized the feeling of it. Bisexual women experience a disproportionately high amount of sexual violence compared to straight and lesbian women, and that innately makes sense to me.
One of my male friends was standing outside a club when he was hit from behind.
He fell down, and two guys came up and kicked the shit out of him before running away. We used to do jiu jitsu together, but he had a particular drive that I think was borne of that experience. Yet, when men get beat up, I don’t ever entertain the impression that some part of them may have been destroyed.
Boys asked me to kiss other girls, and initially I complied. Boys would sometimes grope my breasts, or put their hands up my skirt, or make loud public comments about my body. I remember one time, after being called flat chested, shouting back at the guy “we can’t all have tits as big as yours! Additionally, I was on the wrestling team with a bunch of guys who respected me for my wholehearted commitment to the sport, and I think that helped.
I don’t know how I expected a rape victim to act, but I didn’t expect her to be so funny.
Or to be punk, in this kinda sexy bleached blonde but kind of too lazy to really care sort of way.
If you told someone that a man had learned jiu jitsu after being attacked, I think the vibe would be “well, that’s pretty reasonable.” If a bisexual woman decided to date only women after being raped, the vibe would be “oh, she’s broken.”This belief in the “brokenness” of those have experienced sexual trauma is highly damaging. A few years ago, I was out getting drunk with a bunch of male friends, and one of them offered to let me crash at his place.
He was someone I trusted, someone I’d been friends with for years. I stopped dating men, and then stopped dating anyone.Or to be so up front.“I may be a lesbian because of what happened to me, I don’t know.