ONCOMING RANT WITH ADULT LANGUAGE: YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!
Last week, another writer I know brought up the subject of the latest election crisis on her Facebook wall. It was discussed amicably between a few women. Then a male friend of hers makes a statement: "Just asking you ladies a question, and I'm no Trump fan, but if you're one of his accusers, why wouldn't you collect your payday at the time he supposedly assaulted you instead of waiting thirty years?"
So many things wrong with that statement... *headdesk*
Certain behavior is so ingrained in America that most men can't even begin to comprehend what it's like for women being constantly analyzed for your "fuckability".
I mean it is CONSTANT from the time you are born. Sadly, many of our older female relatives are complicit in this training. We're told "don't do X/do Y so boys will like you" BY OTHER WOMEN from the moment we comprehend the English language.
By the time puberty hits, we're already brainwashed for the next Great Divide--the Madonna/Whore classification. You're a good girl if you tell boys "No." You're a bad girl if you tell boys "Yes." And if you told the boy "No" and he did it anyway, well, it was your fault, of course.
By the way, if you fall into the last two classifications, you now have no worth as a human being to men.
Oh, wait, we had no worth anyway. We're just objects to be fucked or not fucked.
So going back to the last two classifications we were talking about...
The last two classifications women are the equivalent to those blow-up dolls you can get at adult stores. You know, the anatomically correct ones? Since you have to pay for those, then the only reason women would complain about you fucking them is because you didn't pay them, right?
Which leads to the friend of a friend on Facebook who literally cannot comprehend that women might be talking these alleged assaults for some reason other than money.
In 2014, the U.S. Department of Justice estimates that only 30% of sexual assaults are reported. Friends, both male and female, in criminal law and law enforcement have privately told me they believe far fewer sexual assaults are reported. They base this on the victims often backing out of filing charges or testifying in court.
Why do these women back out? Harrassment, by their attackers, by their attackers' friends and family, by total strangers in the community and across the country, and sometimes even their own family and friends.
Don't believe me? Read about rape of a Stuebenville High School girl. (If you can. Personally, it makes me nauseated.) Then explain to me how an unconscious person can object or agree to anything.
But who ultimately paid for the incident? She did. She was called a whore and told that she deserved it for getting drunk and passing out. Video and pictures of her rape were taken and distributed. And to top it off, the hacktivist Anonymous outed her first name. It doesn't take a whole lot from that to find out who she is.
By the way, please tell me what money this kid got out of her assault? I'd really like to know because her parents probably could use the cash for having to move the hell out that town during the housing crunch.
Not to mention her therapy.
Oh, wait, I forgot. She's a whore so her value is worthless, right? Just like the time your dogs got a hold of that blow-up doll and tore it to shreds.
But wait! If a woman says "No", she's safe, right?
WRONG!
Twenty-two years ago, I met DH. We fell in love and moved in together...
DING! DING! DING! You're a WHORE for living in SIN!
We were already engaged.
You're still a whore, though there's some chance at redemption. Assuming you actually get married.
*sigh* Anyway, seven months before our wedding, DH was diagnosed with cancer. I've been through this story before, so I'll cut to the sexual harassment. Shortly after the wedding, my supervisor told me my employment would be terminated if I didn't sleep with him.
With a really slimy smile, he said, "And I know how much you need this job with [DH] not working, and he can't possibly be doing his husbandly duties."
(For the record, if you're in a relationship with someone who wears a colostomy bag, the wearer needs to be on the bottom. Those bag clips HURT when you're stabbed by one.)
Needless to say, my "No" did not go over well. I reported him. It's a small town, so when the entire company was dragged into sexual harassment training, everyone knew who reported who and why.
Funny thing, I wasn't the one who said a word to anyone except HR. He'd already bitched to friends about my frigidity and how I only got married to cover up my lesbianism.
When DH got the job offer in Houston, I was ready to leave. But the crap didn't stop there.
Oh, no, sir-ee, it did not.
You see, after I came forward, other women did as well, and that former supervisor was given the chance to gracefully resign from the company. Because, you know, us guys have to look out for each other.
So roughly two years later, DH and his partners are doing business with another company, and guess who is working there?
Knowing everything that had happened to me, DH decides he can suck it up and deal with this asshole. Until said asshole starts lying about business-related matters.
After a couple weeks of asshole's shit, one of DH's partners asks to speak with him and asks for his side of the story about the problems. You see, DH is smarter than Asshole gave him credit for. DH kept a detailed record of every contact, who said what, and the result.
Partner: "This sounds personal."
DH: "It is. He's jealous that I've slept with Suzan and he hasn't. By the way, would you like a copy of all my contacts with him? And I'm sure Suzan would provide you with a copy of her documentation of his harassment."
Neither of us knows exactly what happened after DH's partner has a phone conversation with the CEO of the other business, but Asshole disappeared shortly afterward.
Did I get any money out of this whole escapade? No, nor do I want it. I just pray that no one else has to go through that shit.
So why did I come forward immediately?
I'd like to say I was brave or I had principles. No, I was just pissed. P-I-S-S-E-D!
Pissed that he would try this. Pissed that I was already incredibly stressed out between law school, DH's treatment, the goddamn wedding, and my normal workload.
The same kind of pissed I felt when my mother would give me the "don't do X/do Y so boys will like you" shit fucking CONSTANTLY!
But that kid in Stuebenville wasn't given a choice.
And maybe Trump's accusers didn't feel they had a choice anymore either. Or maybe they were pissed like me. To have their alleged attacker seeking the highest office in the land? What the hell would happen if he won? I don't know why they came forward now, but I have yet to hear they actually are seeking money.
And if anyone has followed Trump's career, none of this can be a surprise. He's as addicted to the camera and attention as much as the Steubenville football players convicted of raping their classmate were. In both cases, their actions and words have been recorded for posterity.
In the end, I don't care what you think about my "fuckabilty". Just remember that if you try to back me into a corner, if you go anywhere near my pussy, you're gonna get clawed.
This is me getting shit off my chest, so this will be one of those rare times where I disable comments. I don't care who you're voting for or why. That's between you, your Deity, and your own damn social media.
Notes From An Editor… Part 1
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Make It Interesting… When an editor reads a story, just as with any reader,
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