On Being Believed

Trigger warnings for abuse apply.

Earlier I was trying to explain to The Lovely why We Believe You is such a powerful statement.

I talked about rape culture and purity culture and patriarchy and all the other things you would expect. I talked about it being the starting point that might encourage a woman to report abuse. That cynicism, no matter how well meant would be a barrier. Mostly he gets it. He is a good man, a good feminist and a good ally.

But it occurred to me that there was another reason We Believe You is so powerful. And this would not occur to anyone who hasn't been there.

It is because, for many of us it is the first time we have ever heard it.

I heard it for the first time when I posted on the #Ididnotreport hashtag. I cried for hours. And hours. For the first time in my life I felt at peace. It has been a huge contributing factor to the fact that I am able to be so honest on this blog.

I spent my life being told I was over reacting, making it up, being ridiculous. I heard excuses, 'reasons', most of which pointed to it being my fault. I provoked him. I should have been better. Looked after myself better, made myself more attractive, more available.

You know what?

FUCK YOU!

Fuck you the ice cream man who felt me up when I was 14 and told me that no one would believe me if I told.

Fuck you the woman who told me that the occasional slap was ok but I shouldn't put up with full on punches.

Fuck you the man who raped me when I was 14 and let his mates watch. And then told me that no one would believe it was rape because he was my boyfriend.

Fuck you woman who told me not to tell my mum because it was her wedding day and people might not believe me because they might think I was trying to deflect attention from my mother's big day.

Fuck you mum for replying when I finally plucked up the courage to tell you years later that you didn't believe that I would have kept it a secret for that long and that if it was true that I would have told you at the time.

Fuck you man who told me that no one would believe he beat me while pregnant because he was so solicitous of me in public.

To the woman who said I should maybe wear make up more often so that he would find me too attractive to hit. Fuck you.

Fuck you man who told me that no one would believe I didn't know he was shagging about and would assume that I was weak for allowing it.

Fuck you everyone who made me hide inside myself so that I didn't have to face up to all the abuse I had taken because I was such a 'strong woman' that no one would believe me.

Everyone who told me it was my fault if it happened. Fuck you.

Anyone who thinks that a starting point of I Believe You is discriminatory against men. Fuck You most of all. Just fuck you.

In a week where Stuart Hall got 15 months, where Charles Saatchi calls putting his hands round his wife's neck a 'playful tiff' (this is actually an abusers way of saying look how easily I could kill you), where Unison conference voted down a we believe her amendment to a motion because TEH MENZ, fuck you if you think that I will not ALWAYS put I Believe You at the forefront of my mind.

Just fuck you.

To anyone who is being abused. Speak up and speak out.

I believe you.

On Living With A Self Harmer

Massive trigger warnings for self harm apply.

Don't really know where to start with this post. Gonna be a whole heap of personal as usual and for once I sought permission to write it.

Permission? I hear you ask... Who on earth from?

@spaceviolin is who.

She self harms. And I am her mum.

She writes her own blog on her mental health issues and today she wrote this amazing post on self harm. In fact, her whole blog is amazing. You should check it out.

But I procrastinate... as I have been for a very long time. The posts I write about myself are somehow easier, I can distance myself from the things I describe because they happened a long time ago. I have distance and perspective on them. This is happening NOW so if this post becomes muddled, I apologise in advance.

So yeah, my daughter self harms.

It's hard for me when she does it for many reasons. One, I am her mum and I don't want to see my baby in pain. Either the pain of the cutting or the psychological pain that makes her do it. I understand why she does it logically and intellectually but seeing it makes me want to wrap her in cotton wool. Hide her away from the world and protect her so she never has to feel any pain again. And I can't. I can't take that control away from her as it would lead to even more problems. And I wouldn't want to as that would be a life half lived. And what would be the point?

I believe in personal bodily autonomy, so intellectually it shouldn't bother me that she self harms. But it does. I don't own her, I don't believe that just because I gave birth to her that I have any entitlement over her body at all, but she is my darling baby girl.

I don't try to stop her doing it. If I find what she has been cutting with I remove it but she will inevitably find something else to do it with. I can't keep her away from everything sharp in the world. Last time I tried she ended up punching herself. And if she couldn't do that she would find another way.

It's hard you know, leaving sharp things around so she doesn't feel like I'm babying her, or not trusting her, all the while hoping against hope that she'll stop.

I try to be supportive. I try not to guilt her when she does as I know that makes it worse. I try to smile so she can't see a little bit more of my heart break when I see fresh cuts. I'm grateful that she is honest about it now in a way that she wasn't at first but I am scared that by normalising it she'll never get better. I tell myself that I'm doing all I can and by giving her a safe space to talk about it and taking her to her therapy sessions so that when she knows how to feel anger, knows how to feel that it will calm down and eventually stop.

I understand that this is not a suicide attempt, a way to manipulate, a cry for attention. I understand that when she does it that it gives her relief from her pain, gives her control and is a pressure valve.

I am not angry with her.

I love her.

Sometimes it's just, you know, hard.

On Being A Survivor And Kink Shaming

With many thanks to @_LaDiabla.

Yeah, so apparently kink shaming is a thing.

Not sure on what planet it is ok to shame consenting adults for their consensual sexual leanings, but in a world where patriarchy rules all it shouldn't surprise me.

However, this isn't what this post is about. It's about the idea that abuse survivors have their kinks too.

Anyone who has been following this blog for more than a minute knows I am a survivor of sexual, physical, emotional and mental abuse. I've never been shy about that. I've not been shy about my politics, my sexuality, my struggles with my mental health and my eating disorders.

Have been shy about one thing though and maybe its time I put it out there...

Survivors of abuse have kinks too.

Oh and this...

Having kinks DOES NOT INVALIDATE THE ABUSE. EVEN IF THOSE KINKS IN SOME WAY RESEMBLES THE ABUSE.

It doesn't mean we enjoyed it. It doesn't mean we asked for it. It doesn't mean we wanted it. It doesn't mean it was our fault.

For example.

I quite like being pinned down and fucked. Hard. I like the feeling that feeling powerless brings sometimes. Whether with men or women I quite like being told I'm dirty and I want it.

Does this invalidate my rapes?

Fuck no.

See, the thing is that I am consenting to being overpowered. I am consenting to being controlled. In my professional life I make decisions and manage a whole heap of people. When I consent to being treated like an object, it has everything to do with that and nothing to do with rape.

I quite like being spanked, bitten, whipped.

Is that because I like the endorphins that are released or because I miss being beaten up?

(Just in case you wondered, it's the endorphins.)

And there are more kinks I have too, but this isn't a 'what turns Deeva on' post.

It's a post on sexual freedom, on trust, on consent and not everything always being about my fucking abuse.

So no kink shaming please, no victim blaming and NO USING THE FACT THAT I HAVE KINKS TO ENGAGE IN RAPE APOLOGY.

Kinky consensual sex will not damage me. Raping me will.

Only yes means yes.