Tag Archives: rape culture


I had a huge crush on a “class clown” character in my class from the beginning of secondary school. It soon became obvious to him that this was the case and he began manipulating me, making me think he liked me, making me feel stupid and fat and ugly but wanting more and more attention from him. Eventually, I became involved with one of his friends, who began emotionally abusing me (another story – he’d say he was going to kill himself every day). But the original boy kept coming to my house, began sexually assaulting me, telling me I was disgusting and going to hell because it was cheating because I didn’t tell anyone. He did this until I agreed to break up with my boyfriend and date him. He then continued to abuse me, but me over and over again to “do stuff”, telling me that if I didn’t that he’d tell everyone about my mental health issues. I reported him to the police a year later from a psychiatric unit I was sectioned into after starving myself and self harming. Nothing was done. I was still put back in the same school and classes as him. He tormented me daily, saying I’d ruin his reputation and I was a liar and that if I said anything else he would tell everyone I was crazy and on antidepressants. His friends all bullied me also, one of them spiking my drink and assaulting me at a party. They are all still living in the same town as me, walking the streets, laughing when they see me, passing me at college and work making jokes. Feeding lies into the ears of anyone I get close to. Rape culture and gang culture led these boys to stuck together in a toxic group, ruining my life. I have come out of this looking like the lesser person and he has never been happier or more popular. These boys led me to eating disorders, suicidal ideation, self harm and more. Yet to them, it is all a joke because, to them, women are lesser beings, there only for pleasure and to be used and manipulated to their will.

Angry Feminist

I work in a very well-known NGO in Lebanon, Beirut and we have “partners” from different nationalities working with us on a daily basis. On a Monday morning, I was working on a project with my co-worker and my boss was around. A French intern passed by and she had her hair done and makeup on (usually she comes to work with a bun and no makeup). My boss looked at me and my friend and said: “They come to Lebanon, wear revealing clothes and makeup and blame the taxi driver if he sexually assaulted/raped them.” P.S. An incident happened a few years ago in Lebanon where the Uber driver raped and killed a British girl on her way back to her appt. after a night out. I will always be angry at myself that I did not react the way I was supposed to.


It’s been a few times where I walk on the street and these men approach me either bumping into me as though it was an accident, or purposely coming close to me even if I try to avoid them and whisper something in my ear in another language I don’t understand. I feel angry, I feel like I should’ve done something to avoid it, but in the end I realise you can’t. It’s everyday sexism, and although I am angry about, I have to learn to accept it and live with it everyday.


I walked out of a bar with a man I’d been grinding with. He invites me to go home with him. I ask him where, then say no, because it’s far [I don’t have a car]. I invite him to my place, and say it’s only about ten/fifteen minutes walk. He wants to come, but would rather drive. Fine. I get in his car, and give him directions. He doesn’t turn when he’s supposed to. I tell him he missed the turn, and try to give new directions. It’s fine, he says. I’ll turn around at the intersection, he says. He doesn’t. I’m starting to panic. He tries to convince me to just go to his place. I say no, but he keeps driving toward it anyway. I tell him to let me out of his car, and he keeps trying to talk me into going to his place. I say no again, and he still doesn’t let me out. “Let me out right now or I am getting out of your moving car.” I’m holding my phone, ready to call 911. He slows down, and I don’t know if it was to let me out or to turn or for a stop sign or what. But it’s a safer chance to get out than I had 20 seconds ago, so I take it. The car is still moving, but I unlock the door and jump out, stumble, and run. The man is completely shocked at me. He yelled something after me, but I don’t remember what. Once I’m a couple blocks away, I see his car again, and he slows down to talk to me. He says something to try to get me to get back in. I yell no and run. He finally drives away. I call a friend and keep him on the phone, telling him where I am, until I’m back downtown again, where people are still up and around. I get home and lock the door, and let the friend know I’m home safe. I’m shaken, and it takes me a while, but eventually I calm down, and I think about how this is the world that I live in. This man refused to let me out of his car and yet thinks I’M the one whose behaviour is wrong for not still wanting to fuck him after he lied to me about where he was taking me, and for getting the hell away from him. I imagine him telling his friends about this encounter, only in his interpretation of it, I’m a crazy bitch who got out of a moving car, and worse, a tease. The next day I told one of the men I live with what happened – because we were friends or at least friendly, because I wanted to tell somewhat about what I could barely believe had happened, because he’s a man and I think men need to hear from women about how men hurt women (so that they won’t hurt women, and so they will call out other men). He criticized my judgement for going home with the man.


I was just listening to the wonderful song Timber by and realized Pitbull says the line “She says she won’t, but I bet she will.” My attention had always just glazed over that, because it’s so endemic in so much music, but that line being there is truly awful. This is rape culture.


So yesterday I went on ‘a date’ with a guy. Everything was new and cool and at the end of the day we end up at a bar full of people and with really nice vibes. But when we go to buy the drink that we were supposed to share, the bartender says in spanish “Oh I’ll put two shots in here to make her more ‘romantic’”. And in Spanish it’s hard to separate if they mean “it” as in “making the moment more romantic” or if it means “she” – as in “making her loosen up”. So I think it’s the first and I laugh. And both the guys laugh. And then after like an hour when I’m kind of drunk and have gotten closer to my date and a little touchy he says “ha, you didn’t really understand what the bartender said back there, right?.” and I told him what I thought it had meant and then he laughs and explains that it was me that was supposed to get more romantic. Because when he 5 later after buying the first drink went and bought his own, the bartender only put one shot in there. And when he told me this I just felt so betrayed and stupid that I actually became more loose and attracted to him. And all this with my history of a guy in the past actually making his way to make my drinks stonger than his and then raping me. Fuck this world. I’m so angry, sad, hurt, upset.


In 2015 (I was 17 at the time) I was best friends with this boy. He and I were so close, on a brotherly sisterly type level. He had confessed his romantic feelings for me in the past, but I made it clear to him that I wanted to be strictly friends and that I considered him a brother. So the summer of 2015 we get this idea to have a sleepover. I’m not talkin anything sexual in any way shape or form, when we were planning this sleepover it sounded like a good old fashioned slumber party. Both of our parents approved of it since it was clear to them we were just really good friends. We spent the beginning of the night on a blow up mattress watching a movie. Before we went to sleep I made it clear to him that nothing was going to happen, that I didn’t want anything to happen, and that he was my friend and nothing more. He agreed with me. Later, after we had fallen asleep I felt him groping me. He put his hands down my shirt and started touching my chest. He also forced his way into my pants and fingered me. He kissed me. This all started while I was asleep, there was no consent. There was no chance to give consent as I was ASLEEP. He just started touching me as he pleased like it was completely normal to do that. Waking up to him touching me made me feel physically and mentally paralyzed, I was in shock. I was frozen, couldn’t do anything couldn’t say anything. I don’t remember falling asleep, but that morning I was so nauseous. When I told him I was nauseous at first he was “helping” me by supporting my back while I sat up, but minutes later HE STARTED FINGERING ME AGAIN LIKE HE HAD DONE THAT PREVIOUS NIGHT. JUST HELPED HIMSELF. That’s when I ran to the bathroom and puked. I’ve tried telling the police about it but they were biased as my abuser’s dad works for the police department in my town. The police officer I spoke with basically told me I was asking for it and should’ve been more careful about the situation I put myself in. -.- I know…absolutely revolting isn’t it


I went to my first proper party last night and drank and got a little drunk. A bunch of boys needed a ride home and we agreed since we know most of them at least kind of, and most of them are nice. One of them had been quite friendly all night and even asked me to be his pong partner; by the time we reached the car I was feeling the booze and he insisted I had to sit next to him bc I was the only one small enough. Once I sat down he immediately put his arm around me and started stroking my thigh, moving under my leg towards my butt and up my side toward my chest. I kept wiggling trying to signal my discomfort, put my hand under my butt to act as a blockade but he persisted. Leaning his head into my neck, breathing on me, kissing my shoulder. Eventually I turned to him and said “I know what you’re doing and we’re not doing this.” And he acted shocked and innocent. I went on trying to keep the mood light even tho in all honesty I wanted to cry, I wanted to get out of the car, after years of studying rape culture reading horror stories thinking that could never to me, feeling the kind of paralyzingly fear every women has described, I instead said “we were pong partners once, you know what that means? Absolutely nothing.” He goes “oh it means a lot of things” as he leaned back into my neck. I grabbed his wrist and pulled his arm away from me, he then protested “I can’t fit in the car like this come on.” And so again I agreed for whatever reason and said “fine you can keep your arm around me but only PLATONICALLY okay?” He said okay but he didn’t mean it. That was the longest car ride of my entire life.


I was on YouTube the other day, & was watching a few vids. I read the comments under one particular one, & some guy had posted a comment with the sentence “rape her raw” in. To be fair (!), he wasn’t talking about a woman, he was talking about an inanimate object (won’t go into specifics about what), but I still thought it was an unacceptable thing to write, & I did find that it was a jarring note in an otherwise very enjoyable vid. Why do people think it’s OK to toss the word ‘rape’ around in such a casual fashion?