After being molested at the age of thirteen, Marcus Williams struggled to reconcile his libido with his fear of making an unwanted advance.
[All names have been changed, but the story is true.]
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A couple years ago, I received a puzzling piece of mail from a police department a couple counties away. It was addressed to me by name and informed me that a detective there wished to speak to me, so please get in touch. It did not say what this was regarding, but there was a hand-written note in the margins saying that the detective would be on vacation for the next week, so please wait until such-and-such date before calling.
The vague letter and extra week gave me ample opportunity to speculate and worry about what a detective could possibly want to talk to me about. I hadn’t witnessed any crimes or accidents that I could think of, and hadn’t been anywhere near the city he was contacting me from in a long time. I briefly worried that maybe I’d accidentally landed on some Internet porn that red-flagged me somehow, but I was pretty sure I stuck to the legal stuff and if it was something like that, it seemed unlikely they would tip me off with a week’s notice. I was still stumped after the week had passed, when I finally called Detective Avery to say I’d received his letter.
“Mr. Williams, I collect information for possible use in parole hearings. Do you know who Charles Dunn is?”
It wasn’t a name I could have retrieved from memory, but it felt uncomfortably familiar. Given the context of the call, I made a guess that took me back more than 25 years to a memory I’d mostly tried to ignore.
“Is he by any chance doing time for sexually abusing kids?”
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When I was 13, I was a “good” boy. I got good grades, had lots of friends, didn’t get into trouble, didn’t experiment with alcohol or drugs, was a frequent altar server at Sunday Mass, and got along well enough with my parents that I actually enjoyed being in a family bowling league with my mom. There weren’t many teams in the league, so we got friendly with the other teams pretty quick. Most teams consisted of parents and their kids, but one team who was a father short filled out their team with their good family friend, Charles Dunn.
A few months into the league, Charles and the family he bowled with said they were going skiing that weekend and invited me to come along. My family never skied but I had always wanted to try, so this sounded great. To facilitate getting an early start on the day of departure, Charles offered to pick me up the night before and I could stay at his place before meeting the family to all drive together the next morning. The night of the pickup, I remember my mom saying something about how nice it was to have adult friends like that who were trustworthy, not like all those creeps you had to worry about.
This isn’t a play-by-play recap where I’m seeking a cathartic retelling of every detail I can remember, but suffice to say that I got molested that weekend by Charles. As stories of sexual abuse and violence go, mine was fairly mild, in that there was never any penetration, he didn’t make me touch him, and it never recurred after that weekend. What started out as a creepy feeling escalated to inappropriate touching and staring, especially since I was not given my own bed or sleeping space, and finally to me waking up one morning with him fondling me through my underwear, at which point I pretended to be asleep and rolled over. He didn’t try again after that.
It would be years before I’d tell anyone about what had happened, and by the time I did, I didn’t even remember my abuser’s name. I talked about it to girlfriends, therapists, and eventually family, but never to report it to law enforcement. When Detective Avery put a name to that memory again, and told me he was in prison as a sex offender, I felt both relieved and guilty—relieved that he was there; guilty that I hadn’t played any role in putting him there so he’d almost certainly abused other kids after me.
Puzzled as to how the detective got my name, he told me that Dunn was having one of those “come clean” moments that convicts sometimes have and had listed every victim he could remember. My name was on the list. My last name (my real one) isn’t common, so it creeped me out quite a bit that more than two decades after it happened, when I couldn’t even remember his first name, he could come up with my full name. It still creeps me out. When I told my story to the detective, he told me I’d been a strong kid to turn over like that, because he was the kind of offender who wouldn’t get violent, but he would just keep escalating until or unless he met any resistance. I felt terrible for his victims—I have no idea how many—who were too afraid to even roll over. I remember how hard it was to believe it was even happening.
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Having heard so many horror stories, I’m glad my experience of sexual abuse wasn’t worse, and I feel almost embarrassed counting it when hearing or reading someone talk about more serious and sustained abuse, but the fact is, I was sexually abused and it had (or has) a lasting impact on me. It’s that impact, more than the abuse itself, that I want to discuss here. In GMP’s recent (September, 2011) series of articles on Rape and Sexual Violence, I read many profound, tragic, and often inspiring stories of survival, but I noticed that most of the male perspective being expressed was with regard to how to support women who had survived it and how to reduce it’s incidence through either personal change or activism. That’s all incredibly important and valuable discussion to have, but I was never quite having that feeling of, “Finally, someone is giving words to what I’ve felt!” so I’m resorting to my own words, in hopes of giving someone else that feeling.
Many stories of rape or sexual abuse of women that I’ve heard lead to promiscuity; I went sort of the opposite way. I don’t know if that’s typical for a male survivor or not, but having no sexual assertiveness sucked when I still had all the desire.
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If you’re expecting to hear how getting molested transformed me from a “good” 13-yr old into a rebellious, substance-abusing juvenile delinquent, you’re out of luck. Outwardly, I stayed pretty much the same kid: good grades, rule follower, got along fine with my parents, etc. The main difference in behavior was one that was easily attributed, even by me, to teenage shyness and awkwardness: my social circle shrank to almost nothing, and I was painfully shy when it came to dating. It would be a long time before I realized that a lot of my social awkwardness probably had something to do with being molested. Making that connection didn’t make anything easier, but it at least made sense.
Getting molested did not stunt my sex drive at all. Between the usual urges that accompany puberty and being a bookworm who read a lot about sex even before the Internet made it easy, I had no shortage of sexual desire. What it did stunt was my willingness and ability to make a move. Deep down, I was so afraid of violating a girl’s space by making an unwanted advance, that I refrained from making moves even at times when any “normal” guy would be seeing nothing but green light.
The more sexual or physical the move, the harder it was to make, but the really insidious thing about this fear was that it was inhibiting even at the point where potential sex gets started, like flirting or asking a girl on a date. I was not incapable of interacting with girls, but I’d always be so “nice” and asexual that I was one of those guys who ended up with plenty of platonic girl friends who infuriatingly told me time and again how lucky some girl would be to have me.
Fortunately, I didn’t remain trapped as an involuntary celibate forever, but I can’t say I overcame the fear of making unwanted advances, either. My first kiss was at 18 in a South American bar where the girl did 80% of the kissing, and it took a girl willing to make the first move on a date to finally have my first girlfriend and sexual experience in my fourth year of college. My lifetime number of sexual parters is not large, but almost every one of them not only showed interest first, but flirted first. Even if I initiated the first bona fide sexual move, it only happened when I was all but certain it would be welcome. If there was a campaign for “Only Enthusiastic Consent Means ‘Yes’ ”, I would be the poster boy.
That probably makes me sound like model citizen to some, but to me, it’s more about how getting molested made me afraid to initiate sex. I look back on dates I could have asked for, or probably could have gotten physical with if I’d just taken the chance and been ready to respect a “no”, and in retrospect, I think it was distorted thinking to act as though any unsuccessful advance would make me a sex offender and scar the girl/woman for life. I think there’s a huge middle ground between rape and enthusiastic consent, much of it morally acceptable to both (or more) parties, but my early experience on the bad side of the spectrum restricted my comfort zone to that level of consent that happens so infrequently—especially to a man waiting for it—that I’m more or less doomed to a life of not enough sex. On an intellectual level, I know that I can’t just passively wait for as much sex as I want, but fear of violating someone else the way I’ve been violated is a huge initiative killer.
These fears and inhibitions haven’t been so all-consuming as to prevent me from having any long-term relationships, including the marriage I’m in now. They just manifest in different ways. I’ve read and heard a zillion times that women want sex just as much as men when they’re with the right guy, and when they’re in a wanting mood, I find that believable. However, practically all my anecdotal experience—both direct and indirect—tells me that if women’s libido is comparable to men’s in intensity, it’s not nearly as durable or frequent after a couple of years. In that early part of a long-term relationship when we’re both hot and heavy all the time, it’s smooth sailing, but when that desire on her side drops off, I’m back to the wounded guy who’s afraid that me wanting it too much or touching at the wrong time will hurt the body or feelings of the woman I love. On top of that, it’s hard to ask for what I want, or how I want it, because at the first sign that she’s anxious about it, I back off, and then tend not to bring it up again. It’s not exactly a great recipe for healthy communication about sex.
Given my hang-ups about how much consent is enough (and my wife’s own issues I won’t even get into but everyone has something about sex, right?) it’s amazing I ever have any good sex, and yet I do. The kind with enthusiastic consent is the best, no question about it, but it’s not the only kind. It’s all consensual, though, so when I tune out that wounded 13-yr. old lurking inside me, I think I still qualify as a good man.
Powerful piece. Have some of the same experiences with the opposite sex.
I can relate to much of what Marcus, et. al are saying. I was pretty badly abused (physically/mentally) till I left home. I would say I was not abused sexually, but I am not ble to remember the second grade at all. So, I have wondered, did something horrific happen that year?I am in currently in therapy right now, os , maybe I’ll find out. I was also the small, bright kid. I didn’t really start puberty until later of my junior year in high school. I ddin’t finish puberty until after I did my service in the Army (23/24).… Read more »
Sorry for typos, bad grammar, etc. Got a little emotional there.
This is nice to see discussed. Marcus, I hope you’ll do some more work with this. It still seems to be a limitation in your life you might want to get rid of. And you can. I was molested at 9 and 12. It did involve penetration. I needed a group of men to talk to about it, and ended up creating one I’ve lead for 3 years now. None of the many rape centers in this large progressive city have groups for men despite all the requests for them. Very common. But the effects you have are really very,… Read more »
Thank you, NotAlone. I never sought out a support group, but I did go from many years of never talking about it or facing it to addressing it in therapy, and being more open about discussing it either with people close to me, people who disclose their own history of abuse, or now, writing about it for complete strangers. I agree wholeheartedly with you that it’s possible to learn to frame sex as something other than a victim/perpetrator act, and others who have been through it can be great resources to each other for figuring that out.
I’ve read many stories by women survivors about how rape or sexual abuse contributed to poor self-esteem and unhealthy promiscuity. Although I have no problem accepting that some women can face those problems without being first victimized, I wouldn’t dream of asking one of those rape survivors, “Yeah, but are you sure it was the rape?…” That’s actually quite a good point. I only asked the question because your story so startlingly overlapped my own, EXCEPT for the molestation. I’m sorry if the question offended you, but it did seem a reasonable one to ask at the time. Thanks for… Read more »
That book I referenced is online now. The money quote:
“The All-mother never fails to offer to her own, twin cups, one gall, and one of balm. Little or much they may drink, but equally of each. The mountain that is easy to descend must soon be climbed again. The grinding hardship of Wahb’s early days, had built his mighty frame. All usual pleasures of a grizzly’s life had been denied him but power bestowed in more than double share.” — The Biography of Grizzly, Ernest Thompson Seton (1900)
Welll… .among women, EVERY “slut” or repentant former “slut” I ever knew, indeed got her start by being raped and/or molested To me, that suggests that women who are raped or molested are overwhelmingly more likely to think of themselves as sluts, or at least to be regarded as such, than women who don’t go through that. That sounds pretty uncontroversial to me. It makes me wonder, though, how much that feeling corresponds to actual behavior. Maybe you’ve also known women with comparable experience to the “sluts” (number of partners, frequency, etc.), but neither they nor you regarded themselves as… Read more »
“…Welll… .among women, EVERY “slut” or repentant former “slut” I ever knew, indeed got her start by being raped and/or molested….” Marcus: “To me, that suggests that women who are raped or molested are overwhelmingly more likely to think of themselves as sluts, or at least to be regarded as such, than women who don’t go through that. … how much that feeling corresponds to actual behavior….” To clarify, my comment had NOTHING to do with how they think of themselves, nor how others think of them. And none of them used the word “slut” to describe themselves; indeed one… Read more »
I was not incapable of interacting with girls, but I’d always be so “nice” and asexual that I was one of those guys who ended up with plenty of platonic girl friends who infuriatingly told me time and again how lucky some girl would be to have me…. My lifetime number of sexual parters is not large, but almost every one of them not only showed interest first, but flirted first. Even if I initiated the first bona fide sexual move, it only happened when I was all but certain it would be welcome. If there was a campaign for… Read more »
PS.. ” I finally figured out that nearly all my relationships had been started by the women — again, as you put it: “every one of them not only showed interest first, but flirted first”
In my case, however, this was not due to lack of initiative, but due to the fact that my legions of attempts to initiate were nearly always futile. If I had been too afraid to make the first move, however, the result would not have been much different!!!
This PS was a PS to a longer post which for some reason never appeared. And which I”m too lazy to type again.
I hate when that happens. I hope you’ll give it another shot later because I’d be interested to hear what you were going to say. I suggest composing in a separate editor and copying and pasting when you’re ready to post, in case something goes wrong. I’ve learned that habit after losing too many long posts around the interwebs.
it finally posted… it was just in moderation
Thanks for commenting, van R. Other than the fact that I lost religion around the age you found it, it sounds like we have a lot in common. My first two long-term relationships were with women who had been sexually assaulted, but that was something I found out later, not something I sought out. It never really occurred to me that maybe I attracted women with that history out of whatever combination of kindness or empathy or whatever that they saw in me. I just assumed it was a not-so-surprising coincidence given how frequently women are sexually assaulted. I was… Read more »
A much appreciated perspective.
Marcus, thank you for sharing your story. Many male survivors go through the same thing you did. Part of it is that the abuse causes us to become hyper-vigilant and over-aware of our behavior. We know what it feels like to have our boundaries violated, so we kind of project that onto our own actions. That projection conflicts with the expectation of male initiation and gets magnified by social concerns about rape. The whole thing snowballs into one big “I’m a potential threat” thought. I go through a similar problem. I grew up in my situation, so I was use… Read more »
That’s a great one-sentence summary of what I was getting at.
Thanks for sharing this. I had a somewhat similar situation happen when I was a girl. Nothing penetrative but definitely some inappropriate interactions and touching. The impact it had on you has made me reflect on my own dating strategies and why I engage in them.
Thanks for sharing your story and giving one more voice and perspective for men with this type of experience. It’s so hard for men to have an outlet or way to relate and I appreciate how you are able to articulate it.
I honestly doubt that your experiences have been directly caused by the molestation in question. I don’t mean to diminish the psychological impact it may have had (it certainly didn’t help!), but I don’t think it caused the problem. I’ve talked to too many men who described the exact same attitudes who had no such triggering event.
The real causes are pretty straightforward: the way men are treated by women and the way society teaches people to view male sexuality.
As I commented to Tom above, I don’t think getting molested is the only way to end up facing the kinds of problems I described. You’re free to doubt that it made a difference, but after a lifetime of knowing myself and sometimes even talking to therapists about said self, I’m okay with believing that it affected me. That doesn’t mean I think it defines me, or that I’m unaware of other factors just because I didn’t include my complete history in the article. For other men, I don’t dispute that there is more than one way to end up… Read more »
I can completely empathize with what you wrote here, Marcus. Though I was not molested as a child, my mother was the victim of sexual abuse and assault. She a great job of teaching my sisters and I how to stay safe, though the PTSD she experienced as a result of her experiences made these conversations very frequent and the message confusing. As a teenage girl taking on baby sitting jobs, I was afraid to touch the children I worked with in any comforting way for fear that even a hug could be misconstrued as a “bad touch.” As an… Read more »
Thanks for your comment, Samantha. I’ve worked with young children, too (babysitting and camp counselor), and felt the same way. It was sometimes hard because my instinct and what I really want to do is be very affectionate, but especially as a man, I’ve always been careful about the kind of contact I allow. Like if a little kid at camp would come jump into my lap while I was sitting cross-legged, that’s a sweet thing to do and what I would want to do would be give them a big hug, but instead, I would either move them or… Read more »
Read the article “You Can Get Laid Without Being a Jerk”. Basically there is a debate in the comments about whether everything other than enthusiastic consent from the woman (never mind the man…his enthusiasm is irrelevant) is sexual assault, rape, manipulation or coercion.
According to feminists Tom and Marcus are the way all men should be. Never initiate sex, never take a risk. So Marcus don’t feel so bad. You are not dysfunctional. You are the new model for men. And all it took was sexual molestation to get that way.
Thanks for your comment. I’m not current on all the comments on that article, but I did read it and some of the early rounds of comments. I’m not ready to paint all feminists with that brush, but I do think “enthusiastic consent” is setting the bar too high if everything else is defined as some degree of sexual assault. As an example of a lesser consent being completely morally acceptable to me, I woke up a couple nights ago around 2:30am and couldn’t get back to sleep; my wife woke up enough to be aware of this and offered… Read more »
Personally I think there is a very wide spectrum between enthusiastic consent and non-consent. In the course of my adult life, I’ve had sex many times where I enthusiastically consented, but I’ve also had sex at various times when I was drunk, when I was not completely in the mood, because I felt pressured and wanted to please my partner, when my partner was sad and needed comforting, and so on. I was more likely to give in to pressure from a partner when I was in my 20’s and not as good at being assertive about what I wanted.… Read more »
Thanks for sharing that, Jill. I’m a little more caught up now (but not completely) on the “enthusiastic consent” discussion that’s been happening on other recent GMP articles (esp. “You Can Get Laid Without Being a Jerk”). I agree with what you’ve said here, that consent can be given completely free of coercion, manipulation, or other jerk tactics, and still not be enthusiastic. Maybe it’s a foreign concept to a young person still playing the field or still having nothing but passionate sex in the early part of a committed relationship, but when libidos stop matching up in a long-term… Read more »
This article was so amazing, Marcus. I hadn’t read it until today. I wonder how much abuse (like you described or even worse) is part of children’s lives. How it effects their sexual and relational development and creates dynamics like this for men and women (or the reverse, acting out too much). I think the spooning sex you described was not using someone…..not in my opinion. She offered you a kindness, a loving sharing of her body by your own admission. Using to me is something much more caustic. I suppose enthusiastic consent is a good tool for some, folks… Read more »
Marcus I relate to pretty much everything you wrote here. I didn’t have a girlfriend until well into college. I was painfully shy around sex. I am married now for almost ten years and feel the same way you do. Except I really can’t identify a specific event of molestation. I know in a more general sense how boundaries were violated when I was a child. But it wasn’t a specific time that causes me to turn inward on myself, or at least that I can recall with any certainty. I thank you for the courage to write this and… Read more »
Thanks to everyone who has commented. It’s gratifying to hear that it struck a chord so at least a few of us in the same situation don’t feel so alone about it anymore. Tom – Not to discount the impact of the molestation I described, but I don’t think it’s the only way to get to that same kind of sexual shyness and fear of violating someone with unwanted advances. I think some of it just comes with having a high degree of empathy, whether you were born with it or raised that way. I can’t make the case that… Read more »
I really appreciate you sharing this. In fact, this is quite enlightening and sheds a light on things I had never really considered.
Great story, Marcus, and sad. This explains quite a lot about a friend of a friend.