Most rapes depicted on television and in movies are clear-cut portrayals of men forcing women to have sex. They’re usually angry and seek to destroy her by making her feel powerless.
Stereotypically, rapists are shown using their physical strength against her to get what they want while reinforcing the understanding that she is weaker than him. It’s direct and involuntary.
It’s overt and it’s in your face, leaving no room for doubt it’s happening. But this isn’t the only valid form of rape, nor is it the only valid form of how rape begins. It’s the only execution of rape that sometimes gets men convicted.
Seduction is defined as leading someone astray and luring them in, to get them to do something they wouldn’t normally do. What do you think subtlety is? Why do you think it’s useful? Because the subtlety is in the influence.
This influence is how victims are manipulated into trusting their own rapists. Allowing them to get close enough to develop some type of bond. That bond, at some point, grows deeper. In most cases, they’ll turn romantic.
Eventually, the victim will sleep with their own rapist, consensually, because the facade worked. They felt safe enough to grant access to their bodies, access that we would not have been given without the manipulation.
In the end, the influence will be blamed on them — for their lack of “responsibility”. This is the art of manipulation. So when we argue that rape must be “a physical, non-consensual action”, think again. Seduction is a lot more subtle than that.
And rape is often a subtle crime.
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We Met During The Pandemic
We’ve lived in the same building
For years and never crossed paths, inter-personally, until lock-down. He was familiar with a well-known drug dealer in my building, who he hung out with regularly.
It wasn’t hard to get sucked into a crowd of older men who were also dealers because it wasn’t as seedy as it’s shown on television. I didn’t walk by some jaded area and meet with a man in secret to exchange money for drugs.
Actually, I was at home. In my element. In my comfort zone — and these were people I knew. Some of them watched me grow up — others grew up with me. We might not have been friends, but we were definitely familiar.
I didn’t feel a reason to feel unsafe. This would be the lesson that taught me, that rapists often disguise themselves as the people we trust because it’s a successful facade.
It was supposed to be a one night stand
I’ve always been weighed down by the pressure of misogyny and the repercussions of public opinion. As a result, I’ve suppressed many sexual urges and slept with few men.
I never felt able to give myself permission to have sexual experiences unless I was in a relationship. I never felt cleared, as a woman, to do what men do.
Have casual sex.
This one-night stand was a revolutionary moment for me. It was me giving myself permission to indulge in my desires, for once. The fact that it happened organically and unexpectedly made it mean more.
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We Were All Hanging Out One Night
I got drunk on vodka and high on weed
We decided we wanted to take things to the next level. We both waited until everyone parted, and both went home to get ready and met each other back in the hallway.
The heat was mutual and we were all over one another; our bodies didn’t separate until it was time to take our clothes off. Once he was inside me he was so passionate I was in pure bliss until he started speaking.
He began telling me —
- I better not start asking him any questions
- I better not get crazy on him (he started choking me at this particular point)
- I better not do anything to make him jealous
- I can sleep with other men, and get whatever affection I need from them, as long as I show up to give him p — whenever he calls on me for it
I started getting nervous and confused because of these random warnings, and the way he was saying them. Suddenly, I realized this was a mistake and wanted to go home to my mom.
It was completely consensual, until this very moment. It was like he was giving me a rundown, confessing feelings, and threatening me all at once. But above all, he admitted to setting me up.
He waited until he was literally inside of me to reveal his actual intentions. The mask came off. I was to be nothing but a convenient source of sex for him, not even a person. My blood ran cold and my body immediately dried up.
This was the moment I said no.
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I Had No Choice But To Consent
I became so dry there was literally nothing for him to work with
It was now starting to hurt but he refused to stop until I got even dryer, saying no without saying a single word. And this time he heard me, I know he did because he stopped.
This was the moment I learned you never have to tell a rapist “no” because my body was telling him no and I know he heard me because he stopped, angrily looked down at me, and asked —
“Is there a problem? What you not attracted to me or something?”
The fact that he had to ask meant he knew my body was rejecting him, but something about the way he asked me made it clear this was an accusation. And I didn’t like the look in his eyes.
Something in the way he was looking at me told me that my answer better not be “no”. For some reason, this is when I noticed although he stopped, he never pulled out. This was also when I realized he had no intention of stopping.
Regardless of my answer. And maybe in spite of it. There was nothing left to do but comply. So I kept my eyes on the clock and I didn’t say “no” because I knew it wasn’t going to be worth it. I had to give myself permission to be raped, to survive this.
This was about making it back home. So as each hour passed I grew to understand more and more that television really is fake. There is nothing glamorous about sleeping with a man you barely know.
In fact, it’s very dangerous.
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He Tried To Do It Again
When he was finally finished with me it was four a.m.
I got home only to realize I left my phone behind. At the same time, I got a message from him on my laptop saying —
Come back down you forgot something.
When I went back down, he cornered me in the kitchen and tried to force me over the table. Trying to push himself inside of me raw. I’d already made it very clear that condoms are a must-have, much earlier. No exceptions.
He knew this and he also knew he didn’t have any more than the one he’d used. He was going to get what he wanted by any means necessary and his means was by telling me that I “forgot something” to get me back down there.
But I actually did forget something, my phone.
I was able to get around him, and away from him, to look for it and found it underneath his couch, kicked under there during the rape. This is when I realized, he didn’t know my phone was there.
I also realized something that made my blood run cold, I never told him what I was coming back for or that I even needed to come back — I hadn’t gotten the chance yet. I was already about to head back down when his message came through, but he didn’t know that.
He lied and made up an excuse to lure me back to his apartment, he just happened to be right. He planned to rape me, again. Only this time it was intended to be violent, and unprotected.
I never had to say “no”.
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I Didn’t Know How to Call It “Rape”
He’s a father of two young girls
When I saw him again after the rape, he greeted me like we were friends, and I started to question if I made the whole thing up. It was so openly ignored I honestly couldn’t believe it, my mind no longer made sense of it.
Even I thought I made it up.
He’s a father of two young girls. once that label’s in the air — it hangs. I didn’t want to ruin someone’s reputation and life. I was so confused I started pushing the rape out of my mind. He was conditioning me to wave it off, purposely.
I struggled with calling it ‘rape’ because of this manipulation and it had been working, for a short while, but his admission forced me to accept that I was raped and that it was planned.
He tried to ask me for sex and I turned him down and made it clear I didn’t want to take it there again. He viewed my rejection as a challenge. This is where the conversation went left.
This is where I got a confession.
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Apparently, I Needed To Be Manipulated
He admitted to selling me weed with a motive
He admitted to knowing how private and introverted I am. I’m a known hermit in my neighborhood (known for being unknown) and once he realized I was a stoner, he saw his ticket.
This was how he knew I “needed” to be manipulated and he realized weed would be an easy way for him to get close to me. According to him, this was his way of molding me. My blood ran cold.
I realized the kindness I showed him was being registered as consistent confirmation that his plans were going accordingly. My good intentions never mattered, this was about his agenda.
I was accepting his offers, despite only one of us knowing the intent behind it. He disguised himself as someone I could trust (to some degree) to gain access to my body, knowing the familiarity would make it easier for him to get close to me.
He knew this was how he’d get to fuck me without a fight — and he did. This is when I learned how quickly people will use the things you love, want, and need against you — especially if it’s a drug.
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Photo by Shane Devlin on Unsplash
He Confessed to the Crime
“Women need to be manipulated”
He went on to explain to me, verbatim, that “women need to be manipulated”. And yes, it’s our own fault.
In his own words,
women are so brainwashed into believing that “all men want is sex” that y’all “force” us to go through romantic motions just to get close enough to you to fuck you.
He claimed we cause ourselves to be manipulated because we require it in order to feel safe enough to sleep with men. This is how my rapist justified his crime.
What hurt me about his logic is the fact that this was the moment he unknowingly confirmed, and confessed, to raping me. As well as to set me up from the very beginning, to “trick” me into wanting to sleep with him.
And it had worked.
He was actually waiting for the opportunity to sleep with me. He kept me included in his group, not to be inclusive, but because it was everyone was in on the joke — and were assisting in it.
They all offered me drugs and alcohol to hand me the tools needed to destroy myself to hopefully catch me at a weak moment and fuck me. They called it “caring” about me because this was about dodging accountability.
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I Never Had to Say “No”
But I didn’t want it
When I didn’t say a word my body did the talking, and that’s what body language is for. He just chose not to translate, out of convenience. That’s what makes this rape, the fact that my body said “no” for me.
Body language is a valid form of communication.
Even though it started consensually, the sex was under false pretenses, which is why I was purposely led to believe he was. Sex, by any means, was his motive. This is why he revealed his agenda once he’d gotten what he wanted.
He made sure to create the perfect setup that would help place the blame on me for not speaking up, for even “being there in the first place” and “wanting sex”, which I did, at first. This setup had been perfectly executed.
He knew what he was doing. I never had to say “no”, it wouldn’t have made the difference. This was going to happen because he had a mission to accomplish. I never had to say “no”, it wouldn’t have mattered.
I was the agenda.
…
My Rape Cannot Be Proven
Call me a fool
but I thought that’s how we bonded. After all, it wasn’t just a dealer-junkie dynamic. I thought we were becoming friends. I thought the kindness was genuine. They were addicts too — and we were familiar. That meant something, right?
Wrong.
None of that mattered because these favors were an investment and every kind gesture I returned was viewed as a transaction. This is how I learned men aren’t nice unless there’s a motive.
It aged me, to become aware of just how far men were willing to go just to sleep with me. I only understood once I’d become a successful target. As I said at the beginning of this article, rape is subtle — when it isn’t violent.
Subtlety won’t be used against you in a court of law. He used his subtlety because this was about getting what he wanted without going to jail for it. This was about him not leaving any tracks to have to cover. So, my rape can’t be proven, only alleged. Even though he confessed to it.
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Lesson Learned
I never slept with him again
After that night, I never slept with him again although I did see him. He was my living proof that following a sexual impulse is not enough. He was my first one-night stand — and it ended in rape.
And although I may not have been looking for a relationship, I was expecting respect. That’s what women are looking for, genuine respect — not to be tricked into believing we’re respected in order to open our legs.
The night he raped me, he proved he had no respect for me or care for my well-being. So, I never slept with him again. What I didn’t know was how much rage he had been building up inside because of that decision.
This man resented me.
Honestly, from the look in his eyes during this conversation — he hated me. He hated me because I would not have sex with him without getting attached.
I was able to sleep with him without it fucking up my head and that fucked up his because I was able to have sex with him and not do it again. In his own words —
Nobody ever leaves me. How could you be with me (sleep with me) and then leave me?
Emphasis on me.
He actually believed he deserved me and that I owed him “me”. Me raising my own value made him feel cheated out of me. He called it a power-play. As offensive as that was, I actually value who I sleep with.
He taught me that.
50
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This post was previously published on medium.com.
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Photo credit: Oleg Ivanov on Unsplash
