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Sexual Assault: The Quintessence of Femalehood
We’re taught not to catastrophize. Well, I’m going to have to qualify that, as simple statements, while desirable, usually aren’t true – or are partially true, at best. So, we are generally taught not to catastrophize. But. As females, we are mindfucked from birth, so there are times when we must catastrophize and call it truth and other situations where we must erase or minimize to pretend true things are false, or are part of a non-existent conspiracy, or don’t exist at all. Objectively speaking, catastrophizing is viewing an event or situation as worse than it actually is, but as females, we learn the following. We are supposed to catastrophize minor bad things (or even just neutral things) that happen to males in order to highlight their suffering and then to pour all of our time and energy into helping them survive, overcome, live and thrive. And to serve the same ultimate purpose, we are supposed to minimize even the truly catastrophic things that happen to ourselves and to other females. We are told that shining a spotlight on the bad things that happen to women is hysterical, unfair (to males, to perpetrators), hypersensitive, delusional, insane, over-serious, vindictive, straight up lying – you name it, our truths are not what WE say they are.
It is part of the intentional system known as patriarchy, where males must be allowed to unnaturally dominate and females must suffer and serve and pretend we like it – and to support males no matter what they do to us.
The number one problem for females under patriarchy is male violence. There are many, many problems that women and girls encounter in this system, but it all stems from male violence. None of the other problems female endure can exist without male violence and the threat of male violence. If you are a self-proclaimed or aspiring feminist and you are fighting to accomplish things that won’t put an end to male violence, then you are wasting your time. That is the truth.
Most of male violence consists of sexual assault. There is, of course, physical violence and emotional/psychological violence, but sexual violence is the cornerstone of patriarchy. It is something males do to females simply because they are female. It is a source of control and domination, as males seem to be extremely threatened by women, but also a source of enjoyment for males. Sexual assault is about BOTH power/control and sadistic pleasure, despite what liberal feminists say. Now, females typically don’t engage in this kind of behaviour towards males. Females can be violent towards males and especially towards females, but taking pleasure in sexual violence against anyone really isn’t a thing for the vast majority of women. And an aberration here or there does not negate this rule. Women certainly have never dominated the world or any documented society where males exist through sexual violence or any other means, for that matter. Oh and for the record, despite the desperation of equality feminists to assert it exists, there is no proof anywhere that females have existed in peaceful, equal bliss with males. If males exist in a society, there is sexual assault against females. We know it. We see it. That, we can prove. And I can’t imagine it being otherwise as there is no tangible evidence to suggest it is even possible. And women have tried. Oh, have they tried. But trying to ‘educate’ males out of raping and assaulting us is a futile pursuit.
So, despite a worldwide and millennia-long history of sexual assault against females by males, we still can’t really agree on what it is. Women and girls, for much of history, and still today, have had few to no rights compared to males. We don’t yet have full body-autonomy. We still are not allowed to say ‘no’. Our bodies are used against us in so many ways. Most of us, whether conservative or liberal, still buy into our male-defined slave categories, while trying to pass them off as duty, liberation, or some other such nonsense. If you can’t acknowledge reality, then you don’t really get anywhere in defining crimes against female bodies, nevermind prove that a crime has happened. I’m not even sure that we can define sex crimes against women as we a) still rely upon legal systems where men define the crimes they commit against us, and b) all of the crimes that fall in this category are completely dependent on the presence or absence of ‘consent’, which is a massively problematic concept. Consent is such a flimsy thing. It’s not tangible. It’s kind of a tree falling in the forest kind of scenario coupled with a serious vulnerability to manipulation, use of substances, coercion, post-assault threats, desperate circumstances and more. How can you prove consent, in other words, especially when it can be so fleeting and manipulatable and entirely defined by men?
Myself, I take out consent and ‘legal’ aspects of the definition of sexual assault. I consider the burden of proof to be upon the male, not the female. I think females should exist in a default state of ‘no‘. And assault should include the entire range of things males do to females from ogling and catcalling, to sexual touching/contact to outright rape (another crime that people have trouble defining, apparently). Oh no! Am I taking the spontenaity and fun out of heterosexual ‘play’ between males and females? Tough shit. What would be the more serious problem: out of control fear of and actual sexual assault (the current state of things) or males not being allowed to do whatever the fuck they want coupled with loser females’ feelings of being ignored and unmastered by potential manly men? I want women and girls to feel and be safe, first and foremost. This is what we call ‘human rights’. Feelings of deservedness are not human rights. I think these feelings wouldn’t exist if we didn’t brainwash girls into being completely dependent on having their very identities validated by misogynistic male attention. As it is, in the system that we have, girls figure out who they are because of the cumulative psychic weight (trauma) of the sexual assaults that make up their personal herstory. We are wrapped in our own – and our foremothers, through DNA inheritance – tapestries of sexual assault.
Apparently I’m Still Female
So anyway, three days ago, I was reminded that I was female. I was sexually assaulted. Again. For the hundredth? Thousandth? Millionth time? It is impossible to keep track of how many sexual assaults a female experiences in her lifetime – as mentioned above, partly because there are so many occurrences, partly because sexual assault is so poorly defined, partly because it is a female experience and thus is not taken seriously even when it is acknowledged that we were assaulted, partly because it starts before we are able to recall memory of our sexual assaults, and partly because we are generally not allowed to see what we experience as sexual assault. To do so would be to catastrophize. Or in plain and real English: to do so would be to tell the truth.
Three days ago, I finally moved into a real live apartment for the first time in over 3 years. It was momentous. I’ve spent so much of my life as one of the ‘hidden homeless’. My new landlord was going to pick me up and bring me to the apartment to give me the key and note all the things that needed to be fixed. I arrived at the meeting spot early – still light out, early evening, busy streets – and it started to rain hard. Luckily, it was a bus stop with a shelter. A construction crew stopped nearby and some of the guys got out to take care of a road issue. One of the guys came over to talk to me. I didn’t speak his language, and he couldn’t speak English, but it was clear that he wanted my phone number. I said ‘no’ repeatedly in the local language, and it was met with a laugh and ‘okay, okay’. And it started again. And then again. And again. Still pouring rain, and my landlord was supposed to arive in a car at any moment. Then all of the sudden, the man’s arms came up and he came at me, grabbed me and tried to kiss me. I went rigid and turned my head, with the kiss landing on my ear. It was puzzling and horrifying. I’m 50 goddamned years old and I look 50. I assumed this shit would die down. But even to a grown ass woman, no still doesn’t mean no. Luckily, the construction crew came back and off they went. Broad daylight… ffs.
Now the aftermath was weird. I knew I had been assaulted, but some old patterns from my early brainwashing kicked in, unexpectedly. I talked to my good friend in China later that evening, and it was she who brought me to my senses. I was sexually assaulted, she said, correctly. My mind had automatically labelled it a ‘fucked up experience’. I was reminded that even a female separatist who has been hating men officially for years for the rampant sexual assault forced upon sex class, woman, still second guesses herself and hesitates to label her experience correctly when she is inevitably sexually assaulted. And I was reminded of several other things. The assault reminded me that your age doesn’t matter. What you look like doesn’t matter. The time of day or location doesn’t matter. It reminded me that all women are damaged and even when you start on the path to recovering from heterosexual and patriarchal brainwashing, it may take you a lifetime to heal. It struck me that I will likely die still trying to heal. It also brought home that it is so important to have clear-thinking female friends with whom to speak frankly about our suffering and experiences because as recovering women, we can fall into self-harming patterns – the endless self-doubt and questioning about what is real. Our friends keep us on the path of truth and recovery. We must help each other with this. Most of us just don’t have it, or enough of it. Most of us just have people who gaslight us and tell us we are catastrophizing. We have a victim mindset.
Conclusion:
I’ve come to see sexual assault as the quintessence of constructed womanhood and girlhood. I think ALL females are sexually assaulted at least once in their lives, and most of us, thousands of times. The stats are BULLSHIT. We are taught to accept our assaults as part of life, part of womanhood. So we say nothing. Males need us to base our identities on being assaulted, to normalize assault, so that it isn’t assault, but identity. Life. Then we can’t and don’t even bother to try to separate sexual assault from who we are or who we could be. It is hard for me to imagine a life where I don’t feel threatened or fearful and where I am not regularly assaulted by males. I do know that I am likely one of very few women who thinks about sexual assault and how it limits my life, how it has destroyed huge parts of my spirit, and put me in a sort of psychological cage. And no lib-fems, I am not ‘allowing’ it to control me or labelling myself as a victim. I am stating a truth – I would be a different person if sexual assault weren’t a significant part of my life history. And I dare say you would be too, even if you don’t acknowledge (or even recognize/realize) what has happened to each and every one of you. You don’t have to identify as a victim (I cringe at those words) to acknowledge a lifetime of assaults and how they have impacted you. Stating truths, acknowledging reality is not catastrophizing. It may be one of the bravest acts you can commit to as a regular, average woman or girl living a regular, average life.
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The Ice Cube Effect and Feminism
First: A Cultural Curio
When Canadians cross their southern border to spend time in the US, we notice all sorts of weird and wonderful things about how our cultures differ. So I figured I’d entertain you with a small, but significant, difference (significant if you enjoy a properly prepared beverage, that is) before I use it to help illustrate a very significant problem in feminism today.
When a mild-mannered Canadian finds herself in an American restaurant, she usually gets herself a beverage. It might be water, it might be pop (that’s Canadian for ‘soda’, ‘soda pop’ and other American variations on ‘carbonated beverage’), it might be an alcoholic beverage. But no matter where she finds herself, one thing is true: you get a glass with your beverage of choice, and a massive fucking pile of ice within. It sets you to cussing and looking for an extra glass, plate, ashtray (in the old days) and a spoon, so that you can scoop out most of the ice. Canadians don’t like a lot of ice in their drinks, and we are used to getting a choice about it. Go to any Canadian restaurant and your server (if a good one) will always ask you if you want ice in your drink when you are ordering. Most beverages are already refrigerated and are thus cold enough. And if you choose to get ice in Canada, you get just enough to keep the beverage cold. I learned about this as a small child, but when I lived in the US, I very quickly learned to say “no ice” upon ordering whenever I went out.
What’s the big deal, you might ask. Am I just a princess, or rather, are all Canadians princesses? Do we carry ice within our bodies, coming from the Great White North, as we do? Well no. Of course not. I can’t poop an ice cube to save my life. I occasionally have ice in my drink – a few cubes – but really, I seldom need it given that most bevs are refrigerated beforehand. The big deal is that with all that goddamn ice in your drink, it isn’t long before you have this watered down liquid that is no longer flavourful, satisfying, resembling what you wanted in the first place, and is ultimately not worth drinking. The ice cubes are not only plentiful, but they are also usually small, so they melt quickly, taking over with their own seeming agenda instead of just ‘supporting’ the drink. There is nothing more unsatisfying than an expensive, watered down rum and coke – or even just the coke on its own. Yuck to the nth degree! It always made me wonder whether Americans are just really fast drinkers, sucking down gallons of soda pop lickety split. The ‘unlimited refill’ is ubiquitous in and unique to the US – is it because everyone’s drinks are diluted and the time to enjoy beverage perfection is but a fleeting moment?
Anyhow, silliness aside, the melting ice cube phenomenon has nice imagery and application in other, more serious, areas of life. But please note that any comparison with the US is over. It applied to the non-serious story above only. The following is international in scope, and it is one that affects more than just your taste buds.
And so I come to feminism, my drink of choice. And the ice cubes, you might have guessed, are males.
Males pollute and dilute feminism, and if present in a feminist’s life or in the movement itself, very quickly will take over and impose their own agenda. It makes perfect sense if you allow yourself to think about it. Throughout history, men have ruined everything and have made women’s lives hell on earth through their violence and colonization of every aspect of our controlled lives. If it weren’t for this truth, there wouldn’t be this thing called feminism. In short, if women were liberated with equal access to all resources and opportunities, rights and freedoms, there would be no need for a tall glass of feminism. Feminism is the quest to liberate all women from oppression by males. Kaboom.
And so, like ice cubes in a drink of feminism, the more connections you have to males or the more you try to include males in feminism, the more watered down your feminism is. The ice cubes – males – melt and overwhelm the beauty of the drink. Your pure, simple and explicit feminist agenda turns into some unidentifiable, unsatisfying concoction that no longer serves your original interest. Rum and coke with melting ice becomes watery rum and coke. Feminism with males becomes male-focused ‘feminism’.
This truth will hurt the feelings of many women who consider themselves to be feminists. I’m talking about women who have men in their lives, and especially those with very tight and intense trauma bonds with husbands and sons. When you have pledged to take care of all the emotional, psychological, biological, sexual, and economic needs of a male or males, often to your own detriment as a woman, it is near impossible for you put women first. And putting women first is non-negotiable in feminism. After all, feminism isn’t “freeing women, so long as males aren’t inconvenienced, neglected, held responsible, or have their feelings hurt”. So, I’m sorry if this describes you and you feel defensive. Note that I haven’t said that you can’t call yourself a feminist. I’ve said that your feminism is compromised and diluted because your two investments are not complementary, but rather oppositional or contradictory. Supporting and lurving men does not help women. Rather the opposite, actually.
Even if you don’t have special, special relationships with special, special males, there are other ways men can infect how you approach the plight of women. How you conceptualize gender, violence, the cause of violence, and what your social justice priorities are – even painting your face or dressing like you’re advertising sex (no matter how you rationalize it) – will colour your feminism.
But let’s get down to business. I have some interactive fun – in the form of a quiz!!! – for you so you can explore your own glass of feminism to determine how much ice you have included, and ultimately, how diluted your drink is.
Now, I have graduate education in test design, intent, and analysis and I have government training and practice in measurement issues. So I have thought about and have experience in measuring shit and figuring out how bad our (male-designed) assessment tools are. Please note this: there are many problems with this quiz. Most important, my design tool (Polldaddy) was inadequate for my purposes. I wanted more nuance (e.g., weighted responses, assignment of ‘part marks’, etc.), and it just wasn’t possible. Also important, I haven’t tested this test (e.g., reliability and validity) prior to going public to determine whether it measures what it is supposed to. Hell, I haven’t even run it by a human editor or focus group to determine whether people can actually read and understand it!!! I mean, I have a leg up over other test designers, but without proper testing, proper tools, and needed edits and re-edits, this test is no more serious than some dumb-ass personality or sex quiz you’d find in some dumb-ass women’s magazine. So, what you have here is something that was fun for me to do cuz I’m a big nerd, but which shouldn’t be taken seriously other than perhaps to inspire some self-reflection on how much you are infected by the penis virus.
So if you want to take the “How Diluted Is Your Feminism?” quiz, please click the button. There will be a pop-up window care of Polldaddy. And it has 10 questions. Easy peasy.
Note that you’ll get a percentage at the end of the quiz without any explanation as to what it means. There is no ‘fail’. You can interpret your score how you wish. My only suggestion is that if you are scoring below 50%, you probably need to refresh your drink — and all that that implies.
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My Planet Is Simpler, but Not Better
I first moved to another planet in 2003. It was called Taiwan. And then several years after leaving, I returned to that part of the solar system and moved to a planet called China.
I guess I should explain, since I’m coming off as a space cadet of sorts. There are places you go that feel so completely different and seem to operate so differently that it’s as if they are a separate world from your own. There are a number of things that factor into other-worldliness. Operating language, political and economic system, values, social structure, racial composition, general standard of living, environmental conditions, educational system, taboos – really, it’s hard to list everything that goes into how out of your element you might feel. I think it’s different for everyone – both the factors and the level of differentness you experience.
I don’t really want to get into the particulars of China or Chinese culture except where they involve feminism and atheism – the purpose of this blog. I have a completely separate blog on China that I have maintained for several years.
I will say that while Chinese culture is very complex and convoluted in some ways, there is something missing that the West hasn’t managed to export (yet) and that makes it very simple in some important ways.
Sexual and identity politics.
When I read what Western feminists are talking about – things that are going on in their home countries, particularly around trannies and issues surrounding the silencing of feminists – it is a little hard for me to believe. It has been a while since I lived in – or I should say was immersed in – Western culture. Even in the last 10 years when I have lived in the West, I’ve not lived in cities or around young people or within academic circles. So it astounds me the level of craziness that is going on with this need to ‘identify as’ something. To be honest, it sounds very ‘high school’ to me. It smacks of this needy, dysfunctional immaturity that one typically sees with teenagers as they strive so hard to be different, unique and rebellious, and that ends up making them all kind of the same. Pathetic, sometimes laughable, but mostly harmless. Most of us go through it – when we are kids – it’s a phase. But unlike with teenagers and their identity quests, what is going on is having serious legal and social consequences. For women, feminists in particular. Nothing laughable about that.
We just don’t have this in China. We are still barely dealing with the idea of homosexuality here. And for me, since I’ve become used to the insanity that for a long time marked China as a different planet, the sexual/identity repression has become a major factor in my seeing/feeling China as another world.
It is very hard for me to describe China to people who have never been here in a way that they can understand. For example, the best, but still mostly inadequate, way for me to describe it is that it is a mix of the 1950’s and almost-now. The almost-now part refers to technology. For example, their high speed rail system is top notch and puts public transportation in North America to shame. And they skipped email and went straight to smart phones and texting as the primary mode of communication. But sexually and socially, China is living in the past. A traditional culture coupled with a dictatorial government is responsible, I believe. Gender roles are strict and people generally comply. Even the rebellious weirdo type isn’t commonly seen – and I live in a major city where you are more likely to see this stuff.
To this day, I’ve only met one person who has told me they are gay, even though my gaydar has gone off for both males and females tons of times over the years. These folks will go on to marry and breed and perhaps never wonder why there is little joy in their arrangement, unfortunately. I’ve met many people who adamantly profess that they are not gay, however. The gay-jokey accusations are constant among students. All in all, being gay really isn’t on the table as an option and there is nothing resembling a social movement here.
But on a smaller scale, I’ve noticed that students are paying more lip-service to both valuing female babies as well as acknowledging that gay people both exist and should be treated better, however. One of my Masters students asked if he could choose the topic of gay rights for his speech in my class – not that HE was gay – because he was feeling some shame and sympathy that gays and lesbians were treated so badly in China. He also told me that he wouldn’t dare talk about this anywhere other than in our English class – it wouldn’t be accepted. I’ve also noticed a few student groups tackle a gay topic when our department has held film-making contests.
All in all, this is where things are in China’s sexual landscape with regard to identity. It feels not sufficiently open but safe from identity pirates at the same time. It is a naive society, although becoming less naive due to the intrusion of Western sitcoms coming through via the internet. I’m not aware of any Western television programs that both encapsulate the transgender or queer identity madness and have made their way into Chinese consciousness. I’m trying to imagine attempting to explain it to my students. Someone would inevitably ask me what it all means. I do get students ask me why, for example, Americans are obsessed with sex. That is what they see in television and films. Sex, sex, and more sex. And I try to give an explanation.
I don’t really feel I’ve done this topic justice, but I’ll conclude. While I feel like I’m living on a completely different planet, I will say that similar to the planets I’m familiar with, all are run on patriarchy and misogyny. China is simpler, but not better, and at its core, perhaps not all that different.
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Addendum: I just read the following post by Phonaesthetica on the show ‘Transparent’, and the second-to-last episode of season 2 which paints lesbians in a bad light because they don’t accept MtTs in their space. The description of the episode sounds like the usual activist drivel – the man-in-dress character is painted as a Nazi-victim. I’m glad this nonsense hasn’t hit China. I’m having this weird sense of dread that like with their technology experience (skipping email and going directly to text messaging), they are going to skip the gay rights movement and move directly into pushing every gender-confused person into forced sex changes. Sounds crazy, but yanno, this is a crazy world.








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