This morning, one of the meme pages I follow posted a picture with the caption “The ‘I report memes on Facebook’ starter pack”. It wasn’t at all offensive in itself, only showing the typical traits associated with a 30-something year old mother, for example the “I want to see the manager” haircut and a pair of squabbling children.
But perhaps my next move was all too naive. I commented “Once I reported a rape joke (more like a threat) thinly disguised as a meme once, and FB reckoned it was ok”. Which is true.
It had been in the style of those typically douchey “I may not have x, y, or z, but I can still win your heart <33333" memes. Instead, it said: "I may not have the biggest muscles, or the best looks, or the best salary, but I can still rape you". The face of the man in the photos was terrifying on its own, but he also bore a striking resemblance to my rapist.
As one would expect, my reply to the post quickly saw a reply of its own, from some young chap telling me that memes are funny and I should "stop being gay". I explained to him how traumatising the aforementioned "meme" had been, and how the man looked like the man who assaulted me. I don't know what madness was going through my head. Soon the replies to my comment spiralled out of control, with many a white man thoughtfully weighing in about how I couldn't take a joke, and how I should get off all meme pages if I didn't enjoy that type of humour. On a completely different page where I had posted a comment, I even got a reply saying: "lol you're that perpetually triggered girl I see on other meme pages talking about rape aren't you".
Goodie. I have a reputation amongst meme page commenters, apparently. Nevermind any valid point I could raise in reply to them, their tired old comebacks of "haha triggered", "take a joke" and "you're too ugly to be raped" will flow in like they always have, One guy even claimed I couldn't be telling the truth, because of how openly I discussed my problems.
And all of this could have been ok in the end, if it hadn't been for the fact that I saw him again today. As my bus entered a tunnel not too far from my house which is currently being reinforced, there he was among the workers. It was for the tiniest sliver of a second, but I was absolutely certain. And after that, all the vitriol and verbal abuse from those online strangers just became too much. They likely didn't give anything they said a second thought, but I don't have that luxury. It's every day for me, every minute of ever hour. Every time I post here, I start to feel a tiny bit better, but nothing really helps.