R is for Rape Flag

This is the tenth installment in a series covering the issue nearest to my heart.  I want to share how I came to the passion that I spend much of my time and resources on.  Since this story is mine and mine alone to tell, there will be portions that are vague and I apologize in advance.  The road to healing is a personal one and it's not my place to tell the story for someone who may not be ready to have their part of it told.  Some material may be triggering.  Please read at your own discretion.

To read from the beginning, find part one here.

"Oh', she says, 'the Vat prints nothing but rapes.' You know what a rape usually is?  It's a woman who changed her mind afterward." ~ John Updike

I hope this quote infuriates you as much as it does me.  It makes the very blood in my veins boil over until I feel like it might actually cook my bones.  There has been much discussion in the media lately due to a certain politician using the words "legitimate rape."  That also infuriates me.  I feel like it cheapens the pain that is experienced by anyone; not just those dealing with assault.  For anyone to call out something like this and attach a conditional term on top of it just makes my mind go bonkers.  It's like someone saying "legitimate depression"  or "real cancer"  or "verifiable mugging."  It's almost fortunate to me that sexual assaults seem to be the only thing that this kind of thinking is attached to.  Imagine how really crazy everything would be if we had to go through intense scrutiny and be termed "legitimately robbed" in order to file an insurance claim.  Or have a "legitimate sinus infection" to even say that we are sick.  But on the flip side of that, it's incredibly saddening that sexual assaults are one of the only things that this kind of thinking is attached to.  

I'm gonna go ahead and talk about some of my opinions that may be unpopular with those of us who fly the Rape Flag.  I must first put out the disclaimer that NO person, NOT EVER, in the HISTORY of the WORLD has ever "asked for it."  Nothing you wear, nothing you say, nothing you do, nothing you have done in the past, NOTHING gives another person the right to violate you.  That being said...here we go.

Let's all use some common sense.  Growing up, because of the things that happened to me, I had some emotional/mental/behavioral problems.  This is not news to any of you who have been reading this series.  I put myself in some VERY dangerous situations where I can say unequivocally I am LUCKY that I was not sexually assaulted again.  In some cases, I'm LUCKY to be alive. LUCKY.  I don't want anyone else to have to fly the flag.  So we're going to venture from my story for a bit so we can discuss some common sense information to lessen your chances of sexual assault.  (Note:  Besides living in a bubble, there is absolutely nothing that will make your chances of becoming a victim of any crime non existent, and the crime of sexual assault is no different.) 

It starts from the very beginning.  I've said it before and it can't be said enough.  Talk to your children.  Tell them about good and bad touching.  Tell them about strangers.  More importantly, tell them about non-strangers.  Tell them it doesn't have to be someone they don't know.  Teach them, guide them, over and over and over again, that you will be their ally.  You will have their back.  They can tell you ANYTHING.

Build your child's self esteem, especially in the teen years.  And if you are a teen and you recognize that your self image is suffering, seek help.  Go to a school counselor, a church official, your parents, eventually maybe a psychotherapist.  One of the character flaws that I had to my detriment was that of a people pleaser.  To the Nth degree.  I also had this overwhelming need to fit in and be accepted; no matter the cost.  It's the reason I started smoking.  The reason I began skipping school.  The reason I wore certain clothing.  And the reason that I went too far for my comfort in opposite sex relationships.  I didn't love myself and was constantly seeking that love from outside sources.

As a teen/young adult, have a party partner.  I was very fortunate to have an awesome party partner in college.  My college years could've turned out much different for me.  But we watched each other whenever we went out.  If she was drinking, I stayed sober and vice versa.  We watched each others drinks and watched each others backs.  One time a man brought her a drink to the table and in her drunken state, she just about sucked it down.  I covered it with my hand and told him (and her) that she was not drinking that.  I told him he needed to be schooled on how to by a girl a drink and took him by the hand to the bar, I ORDERED the drink, watched the bartender make it, and had the bartender hand it directly to ME.  All that someone buying a drink needs to be concerned with is its payment.  Remember that.  If a person has an issue with that, they're an asshole.  Another time, in MY drunken state, the guy that I was with told my friend and her date to leave and he would take care of me.  She laughed right in his face and told him he was out of his mind if he thought she was leaving me alone for one second.  Remember that, too.  If her date had gotten pissed about not getting alone time with her, or my date pissed about not leaving me with him; they're assholes.  (Just to be fair, this isn't something that should happen every time you are with someone, I could see how they would begin to get irritated.  But especially with a first-time meeting; they should be respectful.)

Girls.  No one plays checkers anymore.  The phrase "come over to my house and watch a movie" when you've known a guy for all of an hour, doesn't mean "come over and watch a movie."  You may mean it that way, but you probably don't.  And a guy won't take it like that either.  If you've known someone for an hour, they do NOT belong in your home.  The general rule for bar hopping is "Meet 'em at the bar, street 'em at the bar."  I'm obviously not advocating that any women be conservative with her sexuality if that is something she is not choosing to do.  Women have been sex shamed long enough which has led to this unfortunate rape culture of ours.  But keep things honest and transparent and expect the same from your partners.

Ladies, be aware of your surroundings.  Walk confidently without distractions.  Have your keys ready before you reach your car so you aren't fiddling with anything.  If you are in doubt of your abilities, take a self defense class (many of them are offered free or at a reduced price).  If a person you're talking to "gets weird" or won't accept a break up, go to the police.  Keep it on record.  Keep family and friends in the loop.

Boys, there is nothing macho or cool about berating women.  Misogyny does not make you look powerful.  The size of your penis or balls will not be enhanced by being an actual dick.  If the other guys in the locker room are talking about taking advantage of girls or objectifying women, stand up.  They may call you names or whatever.  Don't fall into that crap.  I'm telling you right now, respectful men get MUCH more out of women than jerkbags do.  Of course, there are those girls who will always go for the bad boy.  It won't end well for them.  Either they'll figure that out and end up with a guy like you, or they won't and it will be bad for them.  Stop using the term "friendzoned."  It's pejorative.  Women are not slot machines that you put enough "nice guy coins" in and sex falls out.  She doesn't owe you a damn thing for being nice.  And there are several women who it would be a great honor for you to be "just friends" with.  The whole lot of us are pretty badassed.

Men, don't rape women.  In our society (and above in this blog post), we tell women all these things to do to protect themselves.  I've never really heard of a prevention tactic until recently that just told men "Don't Rape."  The comprehensive sexual education that I received (which I am SO grateful for), talked about STDs, pregnancy, emotions, and rape PREVENTION for GIRLS.  There was no "No means No" talk for the young men.  So I'm saying it now.  NO means NO.  It doesn't matter if she tells you across the street or in the sheets.  It is your RESPONSIBILITY to STOP.  If you don't, you are committing a crime.  If you try to "talk her into it," you are committing a crime.  If you tell her that you won't love her anymore, that it's over if she doesn't, shame her and tell her she's a tease; all with the intent of coercing her to continue with sexual activity, YOU ARE COMMITTING A CRIME.

I feel for you, men.  I really do.  There are instances of false accusations.  It does happen.  Many who fly their Rape Flag as high as they possibly can will sometimes not admit that.  But it DOES happen.  But there are tools to protect yourself from a false accusation, just as much as women can protect against a rape. Just like becoming a victim, they aren't foolproof but we're all about lowering risk here.  Don't hand girls drinks.  Get the bartender to do that.  Or even institute a "no buy" policy.  It may suck, but what sucks worse?  A girl pissed that you won't buy her a drink or a girl piss drunk with a cloudy memory and regrets?
Ask before you touch.  It may sound cheesy and you may think it's a mood killer.  But getting permission to touch someone is not only classy, it protects you.  And it's just darn cute when a guy asks "Can I hug you?" Keep in mind, any girl who is worth it thinks consent is sexy.

Take pride in your body.  We tell women all the time to value themselves and not give it away.  You shouldn't either.  It goes both ways.  If you want to be sexual, be sensible.  Use protection.  Use effective communication.  As Banky said in Chasing Amy, "Be like CNN or the Weather Channel.  Constant updates."  Talk to your partner.  Make sure every step is a comfortable one.

Don't forget that men can be victims, too.  Stay mindful of prevention tactics for assaults on men.

I promise that I'm not forgetting the LGBT community here.  You are just as much at risk or more as the heterosexual community.  I personally don't have experience since either of these last two, so seek out sources for information and assistance.  My favorite organization, RAINN is a great place to start. 1-800-656-HOPE.

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After the things that happened to me transpired and I began to get some help, I flew my Rape Flag high.  And constantly.  And loudly.  I was on a huge women power kick.  I thought I was being a feminist.  I was not.  I was being a man hater.  Feminism doesn't mean that women are better than men.  It supports an ideal that women are equal to men and in some ways (like being able to birth a child and breast feed), women should be celebrated as men are celebrated for their unique achievements.  It's not that men are horrible and don't deserve accolades for the things that they are able to do.  It means that in having pride in being a female, I'm not berating a man.  Just proud to be me.

So I don't really fly the Rape Flag anymore.  It's neatly folded; tucked into my pocket.  It will always be a part of me.  I just don't need it to be the thing that defines me.  It's not the thing that I demand that people notice first.  And that's okay.

I'm finally okay.

To be continued....

S is for Sometimes

This is the eleventh installment in a series covering the issue nearest to my heart.  I want to share how I came to the passion that I spend much of my time and resources on.  Since this story is mine and mine alone to tell, there will be portions that are vague and I apologize in advance.  The road to healing is a personal one and it's not my place to tell the story for someone who may not be ready to have their part of it told.  Some material may be triggering.  Please read at your own discretion.

To read from the beginning, go here.

"One must still have chaos in oneself to be able to give birth to a dancing star" ~ Friedrich Nietzche


Sometimes.  Sometimes I'm not okay.  And it's taken me a long time to understand that it's okay to NOT be okay.  That really goes for everyone in the world; not just people who have had traumatic experiences.  No one is perfect.  No one has it together all the time.  Anyone who says they do is a liar.  Anyone who looks like they do is a really great actor.  

I used to get really upset with myself on my down days.  I'd go for really long times without any anxiety and then all of a sudden, I'd have a bad day.  I'd tell myself that I was stupid.  This was stupid.  I would defeat myself with my negative self talk.  Telling myself that having this bad day made my years of progression worth nothing.  That's what I think I hate most of all.  The way that I treated myself during my bad days.

I fought so hard and so long.  Fought against myself.  When I started flying my Rape Flag, I fought against society.  Too much so.  I take myself less seriously now.  I'm kinda tired of fighting.  I think it's best summed up by one of my favorite movie clips of all time:

And sometimes.  Sometimes there really just aren't enough rocks.  You can try fight and scratch and bite and punch forever.  But you'll run out of gas if you go a hundred miles an hour, a hundred percent of the time.  You'll run out of rocks.

I'm not by any means saying that anyone should ever give up on fighting against wrongs in our world.  Fighting towards mental health, healing, sobriety, any of those.  But sometimes, when you take an honest look at yourself and the battles that you are choosing to wage, sometimes those battles have more to do with anger and rage and negative things than they do with positive.

You need to learn to pick and choose your battles with everything in life.  And in my opinion, the aftermath of sexual abuse is no different.  If I were to continue to throw rocks at my life and spew hatred towards everything, I would eventually run out of rocks and then where would I be?  I'd have nothing left.  So I choose to focus on the positive.  I choose to fight the good fights.  I've chosen to do this series.  I'm not bitter or angry anymore.  I don't need any more rocks.

But sometimes....sometimes I just stumble upon one to throw.  I don't go looking for them; they don't live inside me.  But sometimes...I find one on my path.  And that's okay, too.  I would never want to completely give up the chaos in my mind.  It's who I am.  Learning how to manage it has been pivotal to me. Learning how to calm down and step off my big rape high horse has been essential.  Learning that there are lines and gray areas and not everything is in black and white has helped my journey immensely.

Sometimes you have to live in the gray.

Sometimes you have to embrace the chaos.

Sometimes you have to realize that you are exactly where you need to be; flaws and all.

Sometimes that's easy, sometimes it's not.

But sometimes, you need to really sit back and marvel at the creation that is You.  You're still here, still alive, still fighting...learning to fight the right things.

And sometimes you'll fail.  Sometimes I will, too.

But we'll be alright.


To be continued, one more time....

T is for The Answer

This is the twelfth and final installment in a series covering the issue nearest to my heart.  I want to share how I came to the passion that I spend much of my time and resources on.  Since this story is mine and mine alone to tell, there will be portions that are vague and I apologize in advance.  The road to healing is a personal one and it's not my place to tell the story for someone who may not be ready to have their part of it told.  Some material may be triggering.  Please read at your own discretion.

To read from the beginning, go here.

And here we are at "the end." I'm not perfect.  I'm not "all better."  But I am healed, in the sense of having found healing.  I am managing mental illness quite well and by all diagnostic standards, I wouldn't even qualify as being mentally ill.  I still have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, but not in an acute or clinical sense.  I'm free.  I've actually been described by two psychologists now as "an outlier."  They've explained to me that 97% of people who have had all of the things happen to me occur, develop a chronic and debilitating illness.  Many times drug or alcohol addiction.  Sometimes just the inability to connect.  To live independently.  To parent.  To have a productive, somewhat "normal" life.  To heal.  To help others.  I'm pretty proud of that.  I'm actually INSANELY proud of that.  I'm a mother to two amazing children, one of whom has special needs.  It's a frustrating and heart wrenching thing that I've often wondered how I've been able to cope so well and not let the hardships of special needs parenting consume me and set me back.  I then realize I have't given myself even as much credit as the psychologists.  I'm pretty amazing.  If you look in the mirror, you'll see you're pretty amazing, too.

There's no magic pill.  There's no band-aid.  There's no quick fix.  If someone else has found one for their own issues, then I'm surprised albeit happy for them.  That was not the case for me or any that I have known struggling with the aftermath of sexual abuse or with mental illness.  But that doesn't mean there isn't hope.  Doesn't mean that pills can't help or that there isn't a fix at all.  There is, it just takes patience and hard work. Sometimes the first therapist or first method doesn't work.  Sometimes the third or fourth method doesn't work.  Sometimes what worked before stops working. Sometimes you need to try another something else.  But most of all, you can't quit.  You can't give up and expect to be okay.  You keep fighting.  You find beauty in life, however small.  

I don't know if I could ever adequately say how much I appreciate you all reading my words and giving yours of support and encouragement.  It elates me to know that I have helped people, touched people, made people feel something.  I thank each and every one of you for that.  I can only hope that throughout your future days something I've said will stick with you. That would truly be an honor.  So.. "thank you."

Finding beauty in every day life isn't easy.  I don't always succeed.  I have good days and bad days.  But one thing that always seems to help me is a special song.  My older brother went through a phase like many young men in the 80's where he rocked a mullet and loved hair bands.  I still love hair bands.  And after a hiatus from one of those bands, a man went solo and recorded this song.  It brings me comfort, not only in it's words, but remembering awesome times with my brother.  He who shaped my world like no other person could have.  The first one who taught me to search for beauty in life.

Lyrics are as follows:

The lightning flashed as angels rode fiery chargers through the clouds.

That answer scared me into tears and all the grown ups laughed out loud.

Now the years roll on, tired voices have all gone, now they ride their thunder through the heavens.

There's a world in every drop of rain.

Embracing oceans will sweep us home again. 

Come along with me, come along with me, seek the truth you shall not find another lie.

They say for every living thing there's a guide up in the sky

That helps you pass from world to world so you never really die.

Then with scythe and cloak Death comes waltzing to your side

And as the visions pass you ask if there was meaning to your life

And as you strain to hear the answer, spirits sing and devils fiddle 

As he bends to whisper in your ear, he leaves you one more riddle.

Oh, the answers lie beyond the pain

All the questions in our minds, we surely ask in vain

Come along with me, come along with me, seek the truth and you will find another life.

Now my life is like a storm growing stronger every day.

Like the unrelenting wind that comes to blow our lives away

So I live each day like I know that it's my last 

If there is no future there must be no past.

And now I know the answers never meant a thing

And with each instant that I breathe, I feel the joy that life can bring

Come along with me, come along with me, seek the truth, you shall not find another lie.

Come along with me, come along with me, seek the truth and you will find another life.

There is a reason I started this series with the letter I and ended with the letter T.  It because when you take everything in entirety, that's IT.  This is IT.  This is me.  I probably didn't do the alphabet blog challenge like I was supposed to, but I guess you can see from our little journey together that I don't do most things like I'm supposed to.  I kinda like me that way.  It's the person I'm meant to be.  It's the life I was meant to have.  It's IT.

The world can be a beautiful place once you find the life that you were meant to have.  For some that means their eternal life, some it means their chosen profession, and for some it's freedom from the weight of mental illness or anything else that may plague your soul.  My only wish for you all is that you find your "another life."

Much loves.