Monologue #3

“I think most feminists here at davidson deserve a good raping. Teach them a lesson.” Hmmm, I’m a feminist here at Davidson, and a pretty loud one at that. I’m sure I fall under this category of “most feminists.” I basically just got told that I deserved to be raped. It’s interesting to me that this person, hiding behind this anonymous message, believes that getting raped will suddenly make us feminists…not feminists anymore? That’s obviously not true, as we can see from the numerous women who came to feminist after experiencing sexual abuse, assault, and rape. Yeah, totally going to teach me a lesson about fighting against societal structures that I see as wrong by having someone violate me in a violent way. As a survivor of both childhood molestation and rape, I certainly feel the opposite. Growing up having been molested, there was this wall between everyone else and me. Yes, I had wonderful best friends throughout school, but I would always catch myself thinking “Hmmm. My friends will never truly know me, will they?” This event, which I can’t even remember due to my brain blocking it out, has caused me to second guess every sexual decision I have made. Am I interested in sex because I was molested? Do I like masturbating so much because I was molested? Am I dating a manipulative person because I was molested? DO I HAVE DADDY ISSUES?! WHAT ARE THOSE EVEN?! AM I GOING TO END UP LIKE SOME GIRL ON SVU?! DO I LIKE SVU BECAUSE I WAS MOLESTED?! As you can see, it’s a vicious cycle. I told my first boyfriend when I was 14 about it. I bawled, he bawled, it was a bonding moment. I didn’t tell anyone else for three years. Now that I’m in college, I am much more open about it. I mean, I told a girl who would later go on to be my best friend at lake campus during orientation. Yeah new start college! With every person I tell, a brick comes down off of that wall, and discovering feminism helped knock a few of those bricks down as well. That wall is still there, as it always will be, but that’s okay; People can reach over the wall now, like my fellow feminists. It’s really not easy being a strident feminist at a small, southern liberal arts college. A lot of people think I’m annoying, some think I’m intimidating, and others just tire of me constantly pointing out how something is problematic. I’m really bad at just sitting quietly during lunch when people start talking about how much of a slut someone is, or incorrectly use political terminology. I’ve accepted that I’m “that feminist.” I wear that with label with pride. I know that I’m at the receiving end of quite a few smirks and snide remarks from boys on my hall. I know that people don’t want to always be lightly chastised by me for calling each other pussies. I try and keep it light. But condemning my fellow feminists and me to be raped? Nah, sorry bro, been there, been raped. Sorry to burst your bubble.

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