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"Maddy-Monkey, we're all Rita."
I wrote this status message out of the blue. I don't know why it came to mind. It just did. Now I feel like some Great Unconscious was sending me a tiny warning flare, to which I did not listen.
The quote is from Joyce Carol Oates's FOXFIRE, a novel about five young girls navigating their lives in 1950s upstate New York. In the quote, Legs Sadovsky--arguably the true main character--is speaking to Maddy, the narrator, about how all the girls are just like their friend Rita, who is clumsy and ashamed of her own shadow.
Rita was being fondled, groped, and humiliated publicly by their school teacher, and she had a history of sexual abuse from her childhood. The girls decide to take back a shred of justice for their friend by vandalizing the teacher's car, and when Legs says the above, she is telling Maddy, in essence, "Don't judge. That could be any of us."
Later that night, after I'd written that on my profile, I went with my friend and her husband and kid to a small gathering at her husband's boss's house. He was having a cook out and setting off fireworks for the Fourth of July. I'd had other plans, but they fell through, so I tagged along.
My friend had told me the host, Chris, might try to flirt with him. I brushed it off. I literally said, "Psh. Lots of guys flirt. It'll be fine. He's twice my age and has a live-in girlfriend, right?"
Right.
When it all first started, it was fairly unremarkable. He was highly flirtatious, and I was uncomfortable, but I was mostly worried his girlfriend would find the perfect moment to kill me in the backyard for stepping on her toes by existing in the area. I mostly ignored him. I brushed off his remarks. He stroked my hair and I swatted at his hand, moved away and made conversation with his visiting daughter, who was about my age.
My friend's husband spent the majority of his time setting off fireworks about 50ft away from the rest of us. That's where their kid was. That's why Chris felt able to put his hands on me and my friend, I would bet.
Once he groped my breast, I realized I needed to make myself scarce. I oscillated between my friend's husband and the kitchen, where Chris's wife was putting away food and cleaning, and where she explained that she knew it wasn't my fault, what an asshole Chris was, how he had a one-track mind. She apologized for him. I tried to coach her through leaving him. It was known he had another girlfriend somewhere, and she seemed so unhappy standing there in his kitchen, taking care of his house and dog.
I'm going to take a break for now and come back to this, but I just wanted to get started. I tried to write an entry the next day in my diary, but I didn't have the stamina.
Post script: I'm putting this in Relationships instead of Sexual Assault because, for me, it's more about my relationship to my friends than it is about trauma. I actually don't feel traumatized by the events of this night. I just feel so sorry about how it all went, which I'll get to, and I feel shaken by the aftermath. Spoiler alert: I went yesterday morning to the police station to give a victim statement for the first time in my life, in spite of my previous experience. Anyway, the whole thing has thrown me for a loop, but this is really about me and my dear, dear friend, my Maddy-Monkey, so resilient and self-possessed and yet, I learned, as vulnerable as any of us.
I wrote this status message out of the blue. I don't know why it came to mind. It just did. Now I feel like some Great Unconscious was sending me a tiny warning flare, to which I did not listen.
The quote is from Joyce Carol Oates's FOXFIRE, a novel about five young girls navigating their lives in 1950s upstate New York. In the quote, Legs Sadovsky--arguably the true main character--is speaking to Maddy, the narrator, about how all the girls are just like their friend Rita, who is clumsy and ashamed of her own shadow.
Rita was being fondled, groped, and humiliated publicly by their school teacher, and she had a history of sexual abuse from her childhood. The girls decide to take back a shred of justice for their friend by vandalizing the teacher's car, and when Legs says the above, she is telling Maddy, in essence, "Don't judge. That could be any of us."
Later that night, after I'd written that on my profile, I went with my friend and her husband and kid to a small gathering at her husband's boss's house. He was having a cook out and setting off fireworks for the Fourth of July. I'd had other plans, but they fell through, so I tagged along.
My friend had told me the host, Chris, might try to flirt with him. I brushed it off. I literally said, "Psh. Lots of guys flirt. It'll be fine. He's twice my age and has a live-in girlfriend, right?"
Right.
When it all first started, it was fairly unremarkable. He was highly flirtatious, and I was uncomfortable, but I was mostly worried his girlfriend would find the perfect moment to kill me in the backyard for stepping on her toes by existing in the area. I mostly ignored him. I brushed off his remarks. He stroked my hair and I swatted at his hand, moved away and made conversation with his visiting daughter, who was about my age.
My friend's husband spent the majority of his time setting off fireworks about 50ft away from the rest of us. That's where their kid was. That's why Chris felt able to put his hands on me and my friend, I would bet.
Once he groped my breast, I realized I needed to make myself scarce. I oscillated between my friend's husband and the kitchen, where Chris's wife was putting away food and cleaning, and where she explained that she knew it wasn't my fault, what an asshole Chris was, how he had a one-track mind. She apologized for him. I tried to coach her through leaving him. It was known he had another girlfriend somewhere, and she seemed so unhappy standing there in his kitchen, taking care of his house and dog.
I'm going to take a break for now and come back to this, but I just wanted to get started. I tried to write an entry the next day in my diary, but I didn't have the stamina.
Post script: I'm putting this in Relationships instead of Sexual Assault because, for me, it's more about my relationship to my friends than it is about trauma. I actually don't feel traumatized by the events of this night. I just feel so sorry about how it all went, which I'll get to, and I feel shaken by the aftermath. Spoiler alert: I went yesterday morning to the police station to give a victim statement for the first time in my life, in spite of my previous experience. Anyway, the whole thing has thrown me for a loop, but this is really about me and my dear, dear friend, my Maddy-Monkey, so resilient and self-possessed and yet, I learned, as vulnerable as any of us.
