I didn’t write or say this, but I don’t have a source for it, sorry.
“So if you speak to a woman who is otherwise occupied, you’re sending a subtle message. It is that your desire to interact trumps her right to be left alone. If you pursue a conversation when she’s tried to cut it off, you send a message. It is that your desire to speak trumps her right to be left alone. And each of those messages indicates that you believe your desires are a legitimate reason to override her rights.”
– an excerpt from Phaedra Starling’s “Schrödinger’s Rapist: or a guy’s guide to approaching strange women without being maced”
“I propose that we each get to ask three questions. They can be anything. And then after that, we decide if we want to meet. You in?”
“Definitely. I’ll go first.” Continue reading
THIS POST IS THE FOURTH OF A SERIES OF POSTS IN WHICH I DESCRIBE A RELATIONSHIP I HAD WITH AN EMOTIONALLY AND SEXUALLY ABUSIVE MAN. CHAPTER 3 IS HERE AND THE REST OF THE SERIES CAN BE FOUND ON THE STORIES & SERIES PAGE. THANK YOU FOR READING, AND PLEASE FEEL FREE TO SHARE THIS STORY SO THAT OTHERS CAN LEARN FROM MY EXPERIENCES INSTEAD OF NEEDING TO MAKE THE SAME MISTAKES.
My job was boring. I was a staff scientist at an environmental consulting agency, and per the instructions of my overbearing manager, Angela, we used AIM Pro for intraoffice communications. I also used it for personal correspondence.
“What would we name our kids?” Eli asked me one day over instant messenger as I mindlessly entered potential clients’ information into a spreadsheet.
“I don’t know… I could see us having a daughter.”
“I’d love a daughter. But you know I’d be so protective.”
“Not as protective…”
We both laughed.
He continued, “You’d come home one day and ask where she is, and I’d be like, ‘Um… She was right here,’ and we would go out and see her eating tomatoes in the garden.”
“Who eats plain whole tomatoes?!” I laughed.
“I did! She would get it from me!” he insisted.
“She’d have pigtails.”
“And your green eyes.”
“Green eyes aren’t inherited, they’re a mutation.”
“Whatever. She’d look like you.”
“I like the name Abbie.”
“But hyphenated with something.”
The weird thing about the digital era is that you can fall for someone, really fall for them, without ever meeting. Not in an obsessive fan-fic way, but with very deep, true, invested emotion. Continue reading