Disclaimer
This is a fictional blog post about sexual consent. Some readers may find the content upsetting. Links will be posted below for support websites. Readers can always contact me if they would like to talk about it more with me.
Hey Friend,
I’ve been pretty busy, sorry I haven’t written in a while.
I wanted to talk to you about something. It’s something that I’ve tried not to think about too much. I feel awful when I do. I feel so dirty.
It’s awkward to talk about sex, for me anyway. I don’t like to discuss these things openly. I feel like it’s too private. But I have to tell you what’s going on in my head, I just need to get it off my chest.
I was out with my friends last week. We had pre-drinks at the house. Three bottles of wine tanked, obviously. We hit the bright lights of Limerick city, kid. It all starts to get a bit hazy after that.
I bumped into Oscar, the guy I used to work with years ago. I was delighted to see him, it had been so long since I’d seen him last. He was older than me but we always had such craic together. He was working with an accountancy firm now. Big star altogether! He was buying the girls and I drinks all night.
I got drunk so quickly. I had been really stressed out all day and I didn’t eat anything before I went out. There was no need to drink the bottle of wine at the house.
Oscar was staring at me all night. He has these strange, intense green eyes, I was always fascinated by them. It was like they were glowing. It was a little uncomfortable, I felt like he was undressing me with his eyes.
I did wear that really low cut top. Everyone stares at my breasts when I wear that top, some other guy even motor-boated me on the dancefloor!
I can’t really remember leaving the club. Oscar was driving so he told us he would drop us home. I don’t know what happened then but it ended up being me alone in the car with him. The drive home is so blurry. I was talking a lot but I don’t remember anything I was saying.
I always say such stupid shit when I’m drunk. Maybe I said something that made him think that I wanted to have sex. It wouldn’t be like me, I don’t normally speak to guys in that way.
Next thing, I woke up in my bed the next morning. I was lying under the covers, stripped, naked. I felt my body shudder when I remembered. I felt filthy. Thank god he left.
I can’t remember much but I remember him cackling in the car when I told him I was 25, and told me he was 37 years old now.
“12 years older than you!” he laughed.
Shouldn’t he have known better to think that I wanted to have sex? I was so drunk. I couldn’t talk. Even when I realised what was happening, I couldn’t even tell him to stop. I wanted to scream at him to get off me. I didn’t want to have sex. Why did he think I did?
Was it my fault? I drank too much. I always do that, especially when I’m stressed. I get into such states when I fuel the fire of my anxious mind with alcohol. But does that mean that he could take advantage of me like that.
But I do think sometimes I draw attention to myself by wearing low cut tops. Lots of people pass comments about my boobs ALL the time when I’m out anyway. Maybe I shouldn’t be encouraging it by wearing such revealing clothing.
But I want to wear the clothes too. I feel good when I wear them. Not because everyone is saying it to me. In fact, I actually get really tired of guys telling me how gigantic my boobs. I know they are I carry these girls around all day!
I want to wear it because it looks good on me. Why not flaunt what you got?
Did I say that I wanted to have sex with him? I don’t remember anything that we were talking about. But I've never fancied him so I don’t think I would have given that impression, I never have before.
I thought Oscar looked like a weird lizard human. I distinctly recall noticing the strobe lights shining on his oddly shiny head in the club.I definitely didn't flirt with him, I know I didn't.
Did I give my consent for the sexual encounter I had?
Was I raped?
As you can imagine, there is a lot going through my mind right now. I still haven’t figured this out. It may seem simple, but rape is such a strong word. It’s difficult to use it so sometimes it’s easier to make an excuse for it. Then, I don’t have to face the reality of the situation.
I don’t think people understand what consent is. Where do we draw the line?
I need to get some rest right now. Hopefully, when I wake up tomorrow, I’ll know what to do.
Thanks for listening, as always.
Love,
Jane
P.S. Here is the link to the brilliant video explaining consent. You should watch it! It's not always easy to understand but this video manages to keep it pretty simple.
Support
RCC: National Helpline 1800 77 8888 or email counselling@rcc.ie.
Rape crisis help: http://www.rapecrisishelp.ie/
Samaritans freephone: 116 123
Teenline freephone: 1800 833 634 or text ‘teen’ to 50015.
Note from the writer
Unfortunately, I can say that l that I have been taken advantage of while intoxicated. It’s a horrible experience, and I feel dismayed to say that I’m certain that there are many girls have been violated in this manner. I know there are.
It is totally inappropriate for guys to push for sex when girls are too drunk to discuss it. It doesn’t matter what a girl is wearing, how much she drank, how much she was asking for it.
We have a disgusting culture of slapping the offensive terms like slut and whore on girls too. It makes it easier for guys to convince themselves that it’s tolerable, in my opinion. I wish girls would see the injustice we are creating with the language we use towards one other. It certainly makes it easier for men to think it’s acceptable.
What upsets me most is that I feel, as a woman, that it is my responsibility that to avoid situations where this could happen.
It’s our responsibility to protect ourselves to the best of our ability, I think. The real world is a dangerous place.
Sometimes, it’s not always under our control. We’ve all had too much to drink before. It doesn’t mean that we should be sexually abused.
Yours truly,
Amy Ryan
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