Sometimes, I’m not the person to talk to

The following is a reposing of a note I shared on FetLife earlier this week.  Unlike FL, I can moderate comments in advance, and I will be doing so.  Please note this post contains mentions of sexual violence and assault.


Dear men,

Part of the reason I’m a feminist is because i think men deserve to create the life they want beyond the expectations of a society with rigidity defined gender roles. I want y’all to be free to feel what you want to feel, dress how you want to dress, do the activities you want to do, learn the skills you want to learn, and not be tokenized or fetishized.

I’m in this for you too, because I genuinely like men.

I’m not afraid of men. I’m not afraid of women. I’m not afraid of people who occupy the space between the gender poles. I’m cautious of people who I view as potentially harmful to my safety and well being. I need you to help make things safer for me to trust.

I hear that you hate getting lumped in with creepers, rapists, abusers, assholes, misogynists. I hear you because you’ve made it impossible for me not to hear you. You tell me when we talk; you write it in groups and on boards, and you sometimes even PM me.

But I am not the person you need to talk to about your frustrations with women. I’m really not. See, when I ignore my gut instincts about people I put myself in dangerous – literally dangerous – situations. Please don’t tell me it’s my job to give everyone a chance. Instead, go out and make it safer for me to give everyone a chance.

Talk to the hotel worker who locked me in the hotel gym with him and tried to drag me into the sauna with him when I was 16.

Talk to the random guy from Mississauga who described raping me as part of a FetLife discussion thread “game”.

Talk to the man on St. Clair who drove along side me on St. Clair & Bathurst on a bright Sunday afternoon yelling that I should suck his cock.

Talk to my once friend and long term euchre partner, who after years of being my safe walk home and drinking buddy sexually assaulted me.

Talk the friend-of-a-friend who crawled into bed and on top of me that same night because he ‘felt like having sex’ and I ‘was [there]’.

But please don’t talk to me about how I need to give more men the benefit of the doubt; because I’m simply not willing to risk it.

6 thoughts on “Sometimes, I’m not the person to talk to

    1. Greg says:

      What does the future hold? Who leads boys into manhood and where will they get their concept of appropriate conduct? Religion has historically taken on the role of harbinger of moral values but that role has dissolved in an hypocritical acid bath. Parents? Sure, the ones who feed their kids a diet of GTA and Saints Row.

      The internet has become the source for all culture and, like the wild west, the marshal’s nowhere to be found. Schools will try to teach ethics and morality but they’re accorded the same respect as the dude on the soap box with tinfoil toupee.

      Cynical ranting aside, there has to be an answer and the only way to change the tide is one little splash at a time, by a whole lot of hands. The forums are there, the voices need be raised in the face of the status quo, if each statement falls on a hundred deaf ears but changes one life then it will begin to turn the tide.

      If right and wrong is inherent in the human condition than there must be a way to bring it back to the surface.

    2. Heather says:

      While I can certainly see why you would come to that conclusion Greg, I think the very act of choices makes it something very different from the status quo. For me, kink – and really, creating the sexuality I want, has so much to do with the empowerment of personal agency and opting out of the status quo.

  1. Stabbity says:

    But please don’t talk to me about how I need to give more men the benefit of the doubt; because I’m simply not willing to risk it.

    Yep. Your poor hurt feelings are simply not as important as my physical safety. Saying you want to be given the benefit of the doubt just says that you don’t think my safety matters, which as it happens is a pretty damn good reason not to give you the benefit of the doubt.

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