Disclosing Before Dis-clothing (Yeah, It's Weird)
I was originally planning on talking about vulvodynia this week, but it's the Clothesline Project week here on campus, and I can't think about rape, child abuse, domestic violence, the causes of the Russian Revolution and vulvodynia all in one week. Too draining.
So instead we're going to talk about another issue the Clothesline Project brings up: how do you bare the scary parts of your identity (I'm going to be talking about "being a rape victim" here, although you can pick your own trauma and some of my thoughts will still apply) to the people who need to know without literally wearing them on your sleeve?
For myself, I can reject the "I don't need to talk about it" answer without much thinking about it. I do need to talk about it. Call it the curse of the history major--whether I look at it as a good or a bad thing, my experiences of abuse and rape and weird crippling depression have made me who I am, and if you don't know about my rape, you're never going to fully understand me. Fact.
Unfortunately, I've found that if you hear that I've been raped, and then you stop listening, you're even more likely to misunderstand me than you were in the first place.
Some of the things people have said to me, upon hearing some part of my story: [somebody I was dating] "You seem like a handful... I'm not really sure I want to do this anymore." [after hearing that I was drunk, relieved] "...oh, so it wasn't real rape." [after hearing that it's happened more than once] "What do you think it is about you that makes people want to hurt you? I mean, there's got to be something..." [the cops, after they made a joke and I laughed nervously at it] "Are you sure you were raped? You're not acting like a rape victim." [a week after the rape] "You're acting really happy for someone who's just been raped... you're not taking this seriously enough." [a few months after the rape] "You shouldn't still be dwelling on it... no, it's never happened to me, but still. I think you would be happier if you got over it."
After hearing this sort of stuff more than once, you get to a point where you're like "Should I shut up about it and never feel really understood by anyone ever again, not to mention have no support system when things do get bad, or should I keep trying to tell my own story and keep having to hear this sort of crap and fighting off the urge to believe it about myself?"
(Also: if you're reading this, and you don't understand what's offensive about any of the statements up there, please raise your Internet hand and I'll try to explain. Some of them are things I used to say or believe, so I really do want to talk about them.)
It should be obvious what route I've picked--disclosure, and hope the SSRIs kick in when people are mean--even if it's not obvious to you why I've decided to go with it.
And it should be obvious that there's a lot more decisions that come along with that one. When are you going to disclose? To who? What exactly are you going to say?
A few years ago, when I was trying to settle on a phrase to describe my high school experiences, I felt "sexual abuse" was closest to what had happened, but whenever I said that, I think people assumed that I was touched by my priest at the age of five, and I felt intensely guilty that they were assuming something that wasn't true. What if I told them the whole story later, and they were disappointed, because "That wasn't as bad as what I thought had happened--you were sixteen, it shouldn't have been such a big deal" and now they thought I was being a drama queen?
(This isn't a theoretical worry--somebody once got upset with me because I had used "rape" to describe something that had happened without serious physical injury. "You should have said 'date rape,' " he said. "Because rape is a lot worse." At the time, I actually apologized. I shouldn't have.)
What I've come to think: it's not your responsibility to make sure people draw all the right conclusions from your disclosure, and this applies no matter what you're disclosing. It's in your interest that they draw the right conclusions, sure, and so it's something you're going to think about, but making unjustified assumptions makes an ass out of them, not you.
But we're all people and we're all going to make an unjustified assumption or two, especially when it comes to something as complicated as sexual violence. So how can you best disclose in a way that gets across what you want to get across without handing out a pamphlet? I've been thinking about this a lot over the past couple of months, and I'm still trying to work it out.
Given what I know about myself personally, I do feel that it's my responsibility to disclose to anyone I'm planning on kissing. Freaking out during intimacy for no apparent reason isn't contagious like, say, herpes, but I'm told that it's really upsetting and even potentially traumatizing to have your partner start crying and not to know what's going on.
Disclosure is also, obviously, better for me: if I've told my partner what to do in case I start acting weird, I feel safer being intimate with them and am therefore less likely to freak out.
Unfortunately I have a compulsion to over-explain. Although "No" should always be sufficient reason to stop a sexual activity that I don't want, I have this persistent (if incorrect) feeling that my partner deserves an explanation because "No" can't possibly be good enough.
(I recently realized the reason for this--"No" wasn't good enough for my abuser, and I sometimes think that if I had just said "No" the right way, it never would have happened... so now I'm applying that to everyone I'm with, assuming that they, too, need to hear "the right No" in order to respect it. Unfair? Maybe. Entirely rational defense mechanism? Yes.)
And saying "hey, as an abuse survivor sometimes I put up my boundaries at seemingly arbitrary points and you shouldn't worry too much about it" beforehand is a lot less awkward than blurting out some uncomfortable physical detail of your rape in the moment (trust me on this one).
But does that mean it's easy to explain these things? Hell no. I'm convinced that every potential partner is going to hear "rape" and decide there are easier people to have sex with, rather than think "hey, the fact that she's being open about this must mean she actually has her shit together..."
So that's me for the first three weeks of a relationship--looking for the right opening and praying you'll be willing to listen to me and take me at my word for it (if I say "I'm OK," treat me like I'm OK, please) when I finally do feel comfortable enough to tell you.
No fun games this week (that kissing game? is, I think, the only sex game anyone needs, ever) and not even any hard and fast rules, because it turns out disclosure is different every time with every person. Maybe the lack of conclusions makes this another self-indulgent column. Or maybe you found it helpful in thinking through your own questions about disclosure.
Either way, we'll close with a few inspiring examples of ways I've disclosed to brilliant success.
(Note that none of them involve metaphors--"so I got raped by this dude once, like our country is getting raped by the Republicans" is not OK, on, like, so many levels. SO MANY.)
(Also, number four is pretty explicit if you're not into that sort of thing.)
1. I suspected a conversation was going to turn into a one-night stand. "So I'm part of Swat Survivors," I said, casually. I think he said "I'm sorry." Two hours later, when I was starting to get worried I had blown it, he says "So since you're part of Swat Survivors... I guess it's doubly important that I ask if you want me to kiss you?" I was charmed to pieces.
2. Not specifically disclosure, but one time I was on a first date and the conversation turned towards our least favorite words in the German language. His was something phlegmatic and ugly and entirely predictable, but all I could think of was "Muschi," which sounds like "mushy" but with a German accent. He looked a bit surprised that I had steered the conversation towards sex, but now he knew never, ever, ever to call my vagina a Muschi, ever. And he didn't.
3. [over a dinner date, discussing a seemingly benign sexual activity] "Uh, so, I'm not really comfortable with that because, well, I was sexually abused when I was younger, and we used to do that... but other activities are not nearly as triggering. We should just stay away from that for now, because I need to trust you a lot more than I do to be OK with it." "I'm so sorry to hear that... [beat] Are you OK? I mean, I'm not sure I've ever slept with anybody who has been abused." "Well, you have slept with what, ten women? So the chances are good." [my 'uncomfortable truths' laugh] "But anyway, you should treat me just like you would treat anyone else. Really. I'm not made of glass, just surprisingly resilient and bizarrely self-reflective mirrors." [hand squeeze, serious consideration of employing fun-house metaphor, rejected] "It's just that I feel comfortable with you and I want you to realize where I'm coming from when I slow down the pace." "I can respect that." [hand squeeze back] "And I appreciate that you trust me enough to tell me..."
(Note about what works in this situation: the listener never belittles my fears by saying "Sure, your rapist hurt you, but I'm not like that." Maybe he's not. But he'll show that through his actions, not his words. Words, as you learn when you get raped, often don't mean anything.)
4. After I had slept with somebody a few times, and it was becoming apparent that I was going to sleep with them some more, I really wanted to tell them what had happened. But oops! We had been already been playing with power-play, with him as the dominant, and I didn't want him to say "You're using me to re-enact the abuse, you crazy bitch." (This will be another column topic--BDSM and survivor issues may apply to a small segment of the population, but we're an under-served one.)
So I just said it, and crossed my fingers, and added "I know you're going to feel funny about this, since we've been putting you in the dominant role in bed, but that's what I like, I'm comfortable with it, and I don't want anything to change. Trust me on this one."
The next time we slept together, he did the most perfect thing he could have done under the circumstances--he put on his dominant face, he ordered me to stroke my fucking clit, and said that tonight I was going to be on top, and he didn't want to hear any complaints.
Was there a better way to handle the situation? He was keeping the dominant element I liked in our interactions, but letting me know that he had heard me, that he cared about me, and that for tonight he wanted me to feel as safe and in control as (submissively) possible.
...and that, my friends, is one of the five most beautiful things that has ever happened to me.
Disclosure. Sometimes people use it to make you feel crazy. But sometimes it works.
May you all be comfortable in your own damn skin until next time,
Dr. Strokes
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#1: 9/24/2008 at 4:05 p.m.
[after hearing that it's happened more than once] "What do you think it is about you that makes people want to hurt you? I mean, there's got to be something…"
This question really makes me cringe. What would you say in response to it?
And thanks for writing this column, Dr. Strokes...I'm betting that almost everyone knows at least one person who has been raped or sexually abused (even if it hasn't been disclosed yet), so it helps all of us become better friends and partners to our loved ones.
— anon | Unregistered, Swarthmore
#2: 9/24/2008 at 9:17 p.m.
"Unfortunately I have a compulsion to over-explain. Although "No" should always be sufficient reason to stop a sexual activity that I don't want, I have this persistent (if incorrect) feeling that my partner deserves an explanation because "No" can't possibly be good enough."
I also have a tendency to over-explain or to feel obligated to explain if I refuse something, but I think it has more to do with what you were talking about last week, wondering what the other person will think or if they'll blame themselves, and with the fact that I just like sharing and want to let the other person dig through my strange mind with me.
As another history enthusiast and person with a compulsion to over-explain (and over-think), I've really been enjoying your column. Do you take requests? My best friend, who is awesome but doesn't know the details of my sexual preferences, once referred to people who were into BDSM as "what's wrong with sex." Said best friend does not go to Swat, but now that we have a sex columnist who is into BDSM and enjoys investigating the strange contradictions of turn ons and mental stimulation, I would love to hear an inquiry into why you love doing what you love doing, or just about what BDSM and fetishes mean to dispel some of the rumors.
Keep up the good work! and I admire your pace so far.
— FFL | Unregistered, Swarthmore
#3: 9/24/2008 at 9:42 p.m.
After hearing this sort of stuff more than once, you get to a point where you're like "Should I shut up about it and never feel really understood by anyone ever again, not to mention have no support system when things do get bad, or should I keep trying to tell my own story and keep having to hear this sort of crap and fighting off the urge to believe it about myself?"
True dat, Dr. Strokes, true dat.
— a Swattie | Unregistered, Swarthmore
#4: 9/25/2008 at 12:24 a.m.
is it awkward for survivors when a person responds with "I'm sorry" after disclosure?
— wondering | Unregistered, Swarthmore
#5: 9/25/2008 at 3:13 a.m.
to wondering:
yes. what do we say back?
"thanks"? "it's okay" ??
i usually stick with "me too"
though just because it's awkward doesn't necessarily mean it's a ba thing to say.
— opinion | Unregistered, Swarthmore
#6: 9/25/2008 at 3:59 a.m.
well, what would you prefer one say?
— FFL | Unregistered, Swarthmore
#7: 9/25/2008 at 11:43 a.m.
anon-- It makes me cringe too--it's obviously a rude thing to say. I tend to say "Well, statistically it's got to happen to someone twice... better me than someone new, right?" if I want to be light about it.
But the tricky thing is, one of the primary predictors for a college student's likelihood of being a victim of assault is having been sexually assaulted before. There are a lot of reasons you can conjecture for why that makes sense, and the most sensible to me is that victims may have a harder time asserting their boundaries and may care less, to some extent.
(For example, I know that directly after my first assault I did a lot of sexual things I wasn't necessarily comfortable with because I thought of myself as already sullied... I realized that was stupid after a while, but it took me a while.)
So if I'm going to be honest about myself, yes. I don't think I've been assaulted multiply because I was a "born victim"--which is what some people seem to want to suggest--but I do think that being a victim once gave me thought patterns that facilitated my being a victim twice.
Does that make sense?
— Dr. Strokes | Staff
#8: 9/25/2008 at 11:55 a.m.
FFL-- I'm thrilled to hear you like it! Keep digging through your own strange mind... there's something totally delightful about being a sex nerd, isn't there?
And I totally take requests! So I promise that BDSM will be appearing soon (and again, and again) because as far as I'm concerned, it's what's right with sex.
With regard to the "I'm sorry" discussion:
If you're a normal person, "I'm sorry" is what you'll want to say--it's awkward but good awkward, you know? Like Swarthmore.
So I think it's a good way to respond--I'll say "Me too," then if I'm comfortable with that you'll hug me, and then we'll pick up and move on.
The important thing is that (1) I don't like it when people say "I'm sorry" and then do something stupid like hug me without my consent and (2) I don't like it when people say "I'm sorry" all the time. Once is enough.
Other thoughts?
— Dr. Strokes | Staff
#9: 9/25/2008 at 3:00 p.m.
Thank you for writing about this, especially about mentioning your first experience to people. I wasn't raped, but I was very badly sexually harassed and I have the same problem when I talk about it. If I ever mention it, people tell me that it shouldn't be a big deal because other people have been in worse situations. And I know that being raped must be much, much worse, but my experience is still something and it did effect me.
— thank you | Unregistered, Swarthmore
#10: 9/25/2008 at 3:08 p.m.
Yes, that makes sense. It's something I've been thinking about, too, because I've found myself in some dangerous situations where sexual assault could have happened (over the course of a few months). And I wonder why I keep finding myself there.
— anon | Unregistered, Swarthmore
#11: 9/25/2008 at 10:51 p.m.
Dr strokes, have you ever been in a situation where you disclose to your partner, but he didn't feel comfortable taking the relationship further? What advice would you give to a guy in this situation? Like, what would have been the best way for the guy in example 4 to tell you that he felt uncomfortable about continuing a sexual relationship with you?
— Hey | Unregistered, Non-Swarthmore
#12: 9/26/2008 at 10:57 a.m.
thank you--
If I ever mention it, people tell me that it shouldn't be a big deal because other people have been in worse situations.
It sucks that people have said that to you--I don't know why people keep thinking that sort of crap, but they do. It must be some sort of weird defense mechanism. Don't let them diminish what you think about your experience, or feel shame for being affected by it--sexual harassment can ABSOLUTELY be awful, and since you were the only one who was there, you're the only one with the right to say what it was like, you know?
Hey--
Oh man. Tricky question, and it totally depends on how far into the relationship you are and what exactly makes you uncomfortable with furthering the relationship. So think about what it is that makes you uncomfortable. Once you get past the knee-jerk "SCARY" reaction, what are your reasons? What specifically are you afraid of? Are you making assumptions about what being a survivor means (because not every survivor has hang-ups around sex!!!), or are your fears based on things that have actually come out of their mouth (they've actually said 'I am going to need a lot of emotional support if we are going to have sex')?
Maybe once you think this out you'll realize that the right reaction is slowing things down rather than cutting things off. But maybe not, and there are definitely valid reasons to feel "I'm not ready for this," for example if you know you can't give the emotional support they've said they'll need.
If any of my dates has decided to cut off our sexual relationship because of my emotional issues, I haven't known, because they've picked another reason to stop seeing me, and it's been a good strategy in that case. So if that feels best for you, and you can pull it off (aka, don't have her be all "i'm a survivor" and then the next day call and say "remember how you're a vegetarian? that's a problem"), I think it's an ethical strategy.
If you'd rather be more honest, you should put on your biggest "It's not you, it's me" face and keep the following things in mind:
1. She probably told you in confidence and you should respect that. If you want to ask advice on what to do, keep the situation to a counselor or your own closest friends.
2. Again, don't make assumptions--base your reasons for not continuing it on what she has told you, not on what you're imagining.
3. Don't ever call her crazy. Don't get close to it. She is completely normal and having completely understandable reactions to her life. So are you.
4. You're not her last hope--don't make her feel like nobody would ever sleep with her. A lot of people would, you're just not one of them.
5. If you're not willing to enter an emotionally intimate/sexual relationship with her, that's cool. If you're not willing to be continue to think she's a cool person and be friendly with her, you're probably a jerk.
So with all that said, this is no easier, but this is what I would have wanted Guy Four to say to me: "You're really awesome, but I'm in a place right now where I don't want to make any serious emotional commitments. From what you're telling me, you might want more support from our relationship than I can give, and you don't deserve somebody who can't meet all your needs... we'd both be miserable if we tried to pursue this."
And if she's like "Is this about me being a survivor," I would say "Kind of... you're obviously really strong the way you're dealing with it and deserve to be treated better than that. But me? I'm not psychologically ready to be that lucky guy."
Go from there.
...mmm. Was that helpful at all? Probably not. Anyone else have an idea?
— Dr. Strokes | Staff
#13: 9/26/2008 at 10:59 a.m.
Jesus. I write too much.
— Dr. Strokes | Staff