Today’s post is going to be a little bit different then the usual. I need to make a confession. I, Danielle, just literally just need to get this off my chest. This is hard for me to do, but I must. It will feel so good.
I was ‘date raped’ to lose my virginity.
I was drunk, and acting a fool, but it was with an older, more experienced guy. I blame him for some of the intimacy problems I had when I started out dating.
But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me tell you how it all happened.
In February my senior year of high school, three friends and I decided to take a trip down to the nearest party school, where we had some mutual friends. I didn’t know any of them, but they were very nice seeming people. The four of us planned to crash all in their big dorm room, college style. We were ready to have a fun night. No parents!
After pre-gaming that night in their dorm room, we went to an apartment party with friends and other college kids. I definitely had too much of the jungle juice, and beer bonged too many beers.
Meanwhile, I was probably outwardly flirting with dudes at the party, and giving them eyes. Yea, I admit it. Everything was just so novel! I couldn’t help it! I think I even challenged someone to a pushup contest at some point. I tried to convince everyone that I was a DI athlete on the track team.
Then, almost without warning, I was visibly drunk. I was noticeably slurring my words, according to what my friends later told me. I told the guy who wanted to walk me home that “Yea, that is definitely a good idea.”
We left the apartment together, and then…blackout city.
The next thing I remember was waking up the next morning with NOTHING on, naked in some bed. I had absolutely no idea where I was for about 10 seconds. Like I didn’t even know which of the 50 states I was in. Then I looked over and saw the guy who was sleeping next to me–the guy who lived in the room who was friends with my friends. Then I had flash backs to the night before. Him on top of me. Me barely conscious. Just…there…taking it…I saw his face of pleasure on top of me…ahhhh.
“Fuck…did that even happen?” I asked myself. It all seemed like a dream. I hoped it was.
Then he stirred next to me.
“Hey….How are you doin?” He smiled at me.
“Haha.” I had no idea what to say to him. I was feeling really weird.
“Oh my god things got out of control last night…that was fun though.” He smiled at me again. I looked down–underneath the covers–he was totally naked as well. I bet he was as drunk as I had been that night.
“I am so hungover you don’t even realize…I need some water…” I said.
“There is a water fountain down the hall,” he replied.
I don’t think I had ever been that thirsty for all my life. I probably stood at the water fountain drinking for 5 minutes. That is what happens when you drink hard alcohol and are not used to it.
I didn’t even want to go back in the room with…him. What the fuck? How did this happen? I didn’t think my first time was going to be like this. I always thought that my first time would be with someone that I, ya know, cared about. Not necesarily someone I was madly in love with, but someone I could talk it out with at least.
But no. It was a rando who I had seen like one time before in the halls of high school. He had my V card. It was gone forever.
I walked back into the room. His roommate was there too in the other bed. He told us about some girl who he told couldn’t come back to the room last night b/c he didn’t like her. We joked about other things. I laughed, and did the best imitation of myself that I could, even though all along my mind was focused on one thing: did that really happen last night?
It was a long three hour ride home. I said nothing to anyone.
To this day, only one person knows the reality of my true V-card losing story, my best friend at the time Katie. I made up a story to everyone else about losing it to some other guy that summer who I had a huge crush on and actually knew. To some extent, I almost convinced myself that the 2nd story was the true story. But, in reality it’s not. I lost it that night visiting a party school, black out drunk, with a random. This is my confession.
* * *
The above story is completely, 100% true as best I can remember it. The names have been changed to protect the innocent, including me. I also went ahead and changed my male name to a female name, since I’ve always kinda wanted to be a girl. It is true that I have no memory whatsoever of consenting. Did this girl ‘rape’ me? No, I don’t think so. As any SANE person can see, we were just two really drunk people who ended up fucking. She even rode me bareback. She was obviously pretty drunk too.
* * *
According to the feminist/Huff Post definition of rape, I actually raped this girl because she was intoxicated:
(talking about what advice to give your son)
How about the heart-to-heart where you lovingly conferred the legal knowledge that “a woman doesn’t have to be fighting you and you don’t have to be pinning her down for it to be RAPE. Intoxication means she can’t legally consent, NOT that she’s an easy score.”
Thanks for the “legal” advice. It doesn’t take a lawyer to know (hopefully) that the above information is completely false. What is apparent, however, is that Western society is incapable of having a real discussion about masculinity and how to teach our boys to be men. We don’t want to teach them actual social skills, we just want to shame the fuck out of them, call them creepy, and tell them there wasn’t actually consent unless you asked her 3 times if it was okay, and asked her every time you escalated.
But this is the culture we live in. In this world on our major media outlets, Women can spout white noise at best, lies at worst, and no one can fucking call them out! It’s like some sick, twisted joke. Men can be continuously shamed, and hey, it’s all good! We are so creepy, all of us!
So let’s take a quick look at these “creepy men.” Who are they, really? Who are the creepy men that are making it unsafe for your daughter to go solo to a party on campus? Who are the creepy men that are catcalling her or slut-shaming her or intimidating her with their words? Who are the creepy men that are stalking her? Harassing her? Attacking her?
Who are these “creepy men” and where did they come from AND who in the hell raised them?
The answer, unfortunately, is YOU.
We have too much information to continue blaming the anonymous man lurking in the shadows. We have more than enough data to conclude that the majority of perpetrators aren’t “others,” they are peers and classmates and ex-boyfriends and friends.
It’s not even worth telling people like the author that statistically speaking, rape is declining. It’s just not even an argument. LOGIC DOES NOT EXIST. It’s just shame the male, shame the male, shame him. Make him feel bad about the drunk sex he has, and make women feel like a victim, even if it was mutual.
I might come off as angry writing this, but I honestly am reaching a point of apathy. But I just worry that a man I care about may, some day, read this stupid shit and actually think they are an evil man for trying to hook up with a girl when they are both kinda drunk. So do you know what he will probably do in that situation? Drink more, until his inhibitions are REALLY gone. And yea, I’m a little pissed that I lost my V-card to some rando who I never talked to again. But hey, shit happens, right?
I said yesterday that I thought the pendulum may be swinging back. Maybe it is, but on the GRASSROOTS level. But the fact remains, right now for mainstream media outlets, it’s the ‘safe play’ to let some feminist girl go getter post a male shaming piece like the aforementioned, while it is controversial to talk about traditional values.