StacIE

The problem gentlemen is you think "rapist" means scary man in a hoodie lurking in an alleyway at 3am. Of course you'd block that guy. But it's the boyfriend you really loved who was angry that you hadn't wanted sex for two days and pinned you for the bed and then felt really bad about it. It's the really sweet guy backstage who you loved working with for the whole production who knew you only wanted to be friends and then got you drunk at the after party and raped you in a dressing room. It's the husband who whined and pleaded for sex long after you've said no for hours and refused to take no for an answer until you gave in every night for four years until you realised what it was. It's the childhood friend who knows your parents and is your brother's best mate who suddenly attacked you when you were 17 and then told you he'd be thrown out of Oxford if you said anything. It's the kind colleague who offered to drive you home from that conference when there was a train strike and then forced his hands into your pants in a lay-by and then threatened to leave you there at 3am if you didn't stop being a cockteasing bitch. We're not dumb. We see the constant attempts to make anything short of stranger with a knife made up, regret, our fault really, a matter of the woman not being clear. We know why you keep trying to make this 'not rape'. Because if coercion, marital rape, pressure, manipulation and exploitation count, then the comforting fantasy that rape is only ever a stranger with a knife falls apart.