Schrodinger's Whore - trigger warning: rape and sexual abuse

I am being convicted to talk about rape again. I have no idea why, and I'm sorry if that's upsetting for you. I don't like it either. Talking about uncomfortable topics is good. Trying to make change is good. But for some reason, I hate writing about it, even though I just had a 30 minute discussion about it this morning. I don't want to put off readers, and I certainly don't want my morning to begin this way. Yet here we are. Lest I be swallowed by the proverbial whale, here I go.

I read this article a few years ago on Schrodinger's Rapist, and was intrigued by the premise because it seemed so accurate. (Fair warning - there is some language in the links.) I've made this argument myself many times, in the context of trying to prevent my friends from leaving a bar with a stranger. That person might be the nicest person in the history of the world. But I don't know that. And I'm not gambling with my friend's life. Because they might be a crazed serial killer. Ted Bundy was terribly attractive and "nice", after all.

Some men (and women) were upset by the first article, and I think the second helps to allay those fears. And let me say this - I am so sorry that good men are negatively impacted by their brethren who have chosen to cause harm to others. I hate that my loved ones are seen as someone that a person would need to protect themselves from. But I'd rather cross the street to avoid a guy who turns out to be nice than not cross it when it turns out he really isn't. (Note - I generally don't cross the street to get away from people. But I do take plenty of precautions like looking under my car before I get in or holding my keys between my fingers, no matter how ridiculous I feel doing it.)

And I'm not here to talk about how women have it worse. For one thing, there are plenty of male rape victims. (Language in that one, too, and please note, the first part of it is satire. It's a very good article, and necessary.) They should in no way be excluded. But I am here to talk about the other side of the coin - Schrodinger's Whore. You don't like reading that, do you? Whore is an ugly word. It's used to condemn women who have had sex (often women who have had sex with someone who isn't the person using the word). Well, I mean it to be ugly here. Much like men who have raped women have cast a pallor over all other men, women who have falsely accused men of rape have cast a pallor over all other women. These women may regret their encounter, or may not want anyone to know that they've consented to sex. Worse, they may want to harm the target of their accusation. Lives can be ruined this way. It is never ok to make a false accusation - especially in this area. I cannot imagine the terror and devastation inflicted on someone who is accused this way.

The saddest effect of this is that an actual rape victim often feels like they are the one on trial. What was she wearing? Was she drinking? Has she had sex before? Has she had sex with the accused before? All of these questions trying to prove that the accusation is false. Much like the author in the articles referenced above has no way of knowing whether someone is a rapist because there's a chance they might be, those who hear these accusations, unless there's clear evidence of physical wounding, can't know that a claim is legitimate.

Compounding this issue is victim blaming, which is based in the same psychological shaping that creates a love of fairy tales. Good people are rewarded. Bad people are punished. The good guys wear white hats, the bad guys twirl black mustaches. And if you're a good person, bad things won't happen to you. See, if the victim is at fault in a rape, I won't ever be raped. I don't get drunk. I don't wear super revealing clothes. I don't walk in shady areas at night. So, phew, hooray! If, however, rape is the perpetrator's fault, you can be raped even if you do everything right. I hate sharing this story, but if I don't speak up about my own experiences, I can't expect others to do so either. When I was in college, I was dating a guy we'll call Mark. He was a friend of my friend, so he came complete with references. We had only been on a few dates, and had shared a few chaste kisses, no more. He drove an hour to see me one night, and we watched a movie. He was falling asleep, so I told him he could just stay because I was worried about him getting in an accident if he drove home. I woke up in the middle of the night with one of his hands up my shirt and one down my pants. When I shifted, he immediately pulled back and rolled over as though he was asleep. I was frozen. Rooted to the spot. Did that really just happen? Scared, I went back to sleep, and pretended to still be asleep when he left in the morning.

And then I did the worst thing I could have done - told myself it was my fault. I let a guy sleep in my bed. I was only in pajamas (which for me was a tank top and sweat pants). I did this, I was responsible. I even went on more dates with this man afterward because I didn't hold him accountable. When I did break it off with him, it was simply because he was constantly calling or messaging me and I needed space.

I still feel sick to my stomach thinking about it. When I see anything having to do with his favorite TV character (fortunately a show I never watched that is no longer on), I cringe. Now, many people will side with me here - I was a virgin, we hadn't done anything, and I was asleep. Others will insist that it must not have been anything victimizing because I didn't fight. Because I went on other dates with him. But here's the thing - I was sexually touched without my consent. That is literally the only important thing here. I could have been someone who slept with thousands of men. I could have been walking down an alley in stiletto heels and a mini dress while drunk. None of that matters because, and here's where I need you to pay attention: only a rapist will rape you. A decent man will not use an unconscious woman. A decent man will not attack a woman in an alley.

And it gets even greyer. I know a woman who lost her virginity to her boyfriend in high school. Not so uncommon, much as we may not like it. But in her case, it wasn't willingly. Yes, she had been dating this man for quite some time. I knew him - I'd even helped her with a gift for him on a special occasion. But she did not want to have sex with him. She said no. And he did it anyway. She didn't come forward, either. She was hurt, and devastated, but she was also ashamed. Who would take her side? He was her boyfriend, after all. And she didn't punch him in the face. Didn't kick him in the groin. The funny thing is, I told her over and over that it wasn't her fault. That she wasn't to blame. That he was the bad guy. And then a year later, with Mark, I told myself the opposite.

We blame the victim because we want to feel like it can't happen to us. We don't want to think that we could ever be powerless. We want to think that we'd fight back. That no one we know and care about would do that - only shady figures in dark alleys. And women who cry rape when there wasn't one compound the issue, making even some who would normally act with compassion act with suspicion instead. That's why I didn't come forward. I didn't tell anyone about Mark until I was dating my husband. I was too ashamed. Even then, I was surprised when he was mad at Mark and not me. And what happened to me, while awful, could have been insanely worse. There are women who are violated repeatedly - sometimes by family or friends - who feel that they can't come forward because they think people will see them as liars, or whores.

I can't tolerate that. I can't just sit here and not speak out against it. I have a daughter. And I pray with every fiber of my being that she will never go through anything like this. That she will be treated with respect, that no man - or woman - will ever steal her sense of security from her. But if, Heaven forbid, someone did, I would want her to be able to tell someone. To get help. And to receive compassion instead of blame. Healing instead of insults. If life were easy, I would simply say, "Ok, everyone, stop raping and stop lying", and that would be that. Life isn't easy. All I can do is talk to my own child. Teach her the virtue of honesty and the importance of consent.

One more point I need to make is that rapists don't want to see themselves that way. Victim blaming also goes toward wanting to blame someone else rather than believe they (or their loved one) is capable of that. No one wants to think of themselves like that. Which is why coming to Christ can be so difficult - you have to admit that you are a sinner. And you have to repent. If it's this difficult for me to admit that I can be lazy, I can't fathom having to admit to something darker, like abuse, or rape.

If you got this far, good on you. I barely made it myself. And I'm sorry if I interrupted an otherwise lovely day with this topic. But it's important. And if something like this happened to you, and you haven't told because you're ashamed or think people will think you're a liar, tell me. I'll believe you. And I'll help you however I can.

True Faith is Not for the Weak Minded

One of my friends who is an atheist (yes, I have friends who are atheist. And agnostic, and Jewish, and Muslim, and a million other things) once posted a meme showing a man with an incredulous/amused look on his face with the caption "My face whenever someone with a college degree tells me they believe in God." The implication is pretty easy to read - only stupid people believe in God. Then there's the ever-famous "Religion is the opiate of the masses." In this day and age, so many people see being a Christian (or other faith) as being a crutch for the weak - something we lean on because we're not smart enough to figure out the science behind the world. Because we don't want to take responsibility for ourselves. Because we are horrible people who only act decently at the threat of Hell. Pick any of the above - I've heard them all.

I certainly don't deny that there's an amazing comfort in the belief that God is there for me. That I am watched over, and kept in His hands. But having recently been born again after years of not really having a relationship with God, I can tell you that so far, it's harder to be a Christian. And I don't just mean the early Sunday mornings.

Let's start with the fact that I am called to love my fellow man - including my enemies. I'm sure most of you know how difficult it is to so much as stomach someone who has been unkind, abusive, etc to you or someone you care about. If I didn't believe, I could write these people off as awful and go about my business without a second thought. They don't care about me - why should I care about them? But I can't. I struggle daily with seeing everyone as God's child rather than simply judging them by their actions toward me or my loved ones. This isn't to say that non-believers don't strive to love their enemy. But to them, it's not weighted as a command.

Then there is the part where we are supposed to be following the path of God, not of the world. As John Bevere says in his series "Good or God?" (which I highly recommend), the world pulls at us. There are so many temptations that can take our focus off of God. Replace him as our priority. This could be something as small as a football game (seriously, watch "Good or God?"), or as large as an addiction.

And some of the time, we don't even see that it's what we're doing. I'm starting a non-profit, as I've mentioned before. But I didn't start it for the glory of God. I started it because I needed a way to cope with all of the crazy emotions that go along with a baby having heart surgery. I needed something bigger than myself, and I went directly to something I could create, rather than to God. That doesn't mean my non-profit is bad. But it does mean that something I saw as 100% GOOD wasn't being done for the right reasons. Even a ministry can become "of the world" if I put my focus on recognition, or what I'm doing rather than what He is doing through me. Look at it this way - Adam and Eve literally knew God directly. They walked with Him, talked with Him, and saw His hand work. And they still felt the pull of the world so strongly that they disobeyed. How much stronger, then, is that pull in us, when we won't see Him directly until we die?

And I'll tell you this - I have not even remotely reached a place where I truly feel that I put Him first over my husband and child. If God gave me the same command He gave to Abraham, I'd die before agreeing to sacrifice my child.

That's another struggle. We know what we're supposed to do. But it isn't always intuitive. I look at what I just typed in the paragraph above, and it seems right to me. When I read Kierkegaard's "Fear and Trembling", which posits that Abraham was being tested and chose incorrectly by agreeing to sacrifice his own child, that resonated with me. Who agrees to kill their child? Common sense dictates that anyone who does that may as well be one of those moms or dads who snaps and says the voice of God commanded them to drown their babies in the bathtub.

Then there are the debates. I don't debate God's existence. I'm not Bill O'Reilly (I had to watch his show for a school project and didn't like it one bit, if I'm honest), and I won't ever try to offer any form of scientific "proof" of God. If you're an atheist, you have science to lean on. Proofs, experiments, tests, and studies. I have my faith, and a book. I will never "win" a debate because someone who is scientific and atheistic won't accept my faith as proof. And I believe science and God co-exist just fine, so their arguments will never convince me that He isn't real.

Let me say this - I know that atheists can struggle with temptations, etc as well. I'm not saying it isn't difficult. I absolutely cannot fathom not having God's love in my life. And that brings me to my last point. We are called on to share the gospel. To baptize the nations. And I have no issue with being an example. But I know that directly speaking the Word to someone may cause rejection, hate, resentment, and a myriad of other emotions from their end. The calling to save souls is not for the feeble. And I don't mean someone who walks up to you and tells you why you're going to Hell and throws a pamphlet at you (please see my first post - those are NOT what I consider Christians). I mean truly trying to change hearts. I want you to have what I have - the sense of peace and purpose that can come with it. But I don't want to sour you on faith by pushing you too hard. It has to be between you and God, though I am here if you question or need guidance.

Perhaps the most difficult part of being a Christian is how we are saved. We have to acknowledge that we are sinners. That we are not better than anyone. That we cannot do it on our own. I always tried to do everything on my own. I didn't want to burden others. I was so driven in my desire to take care of my own issues that I wouldn't even pray about things that I didn't deem "worth" God's time. I am fiercely independent, and I have to battle that "me"-ness every day.

I'm still friends with the person who posted that meme. I still love them, and still miss them (they live out of state). And believe me - I'm just as down on memes that make fun of other religions, atheists, or agnostics. I don't condone name-calling and finger-pointing as a means to move others. It doesn't work - it just makes them dig in. I just want people who may not realize to notice that faith is not the antithesis of intelligence.

Faith Means Fellowship - Oh Boy.

I have a confession to make: I'm an introvert.

Stop laughing. Really, stop - I'm serious. Ok, fine, I'll give you a minute.

...

We good?

Ok. As I was saying, I'm an introvert. No one ever believes me because, as I've mentioned before, I can talk to anyone. I can talk in front of everyone. I delight in public speaking - something more people fear than even death. I talk too much. My family, my friends, and certainly my Bible study group can vouch for that. And yet.

I am very much in my head. People think I have no filter, and yet for every 10 words I say, I keep 100 to myself. My majors were psychology and philosophy in college. I'd rather be in a library than at a club, and I find myself easily exhausted at parties. So whether you use Jung's traditional definition, or that of Urban Dictionary, I am an introvert. The most defining characteristic is being recharged by spending time alone, in reading or reflection. Some people relax by going out, having large gatherings, etc. I need time to relax after any of those types of functions because they wear me out. I rush home after evening functions so I can just be home with by daughter before she goes to bed, even if there's someone I want to speak with. The best way to describe me is "outgoing introvert". I could hug the person who came up with that term.

Each side of that description can be a struggle when it comes to my faith. I want to have fellowship with my brothers and sisters in Christ. I want to learn from them, to be energized by their faith, and to share my observations. That's the main reason I began going to my current Bible study. But when I'm there, I feel as though I exhibit the worst of each piece. I talk quite a bit, simply because I am comfortable with speaking in front of others, and not everyone is. I was the student who always raised by hand because I couldn't stand the silence when the teacher asked a question and no one wanted to answer. I wanted to answer, even if I just answered the last five questions, because I wanted the teacher to know that their lesson was sinking in, and I wanted to preserve the flow of the classroom. I'm 30 years old now, and haven't been to school for over 5 years (law school was the most recent), and I still cannot stand that silence. And to someone who doesn't know me, this may come off as my being self-centered, or a know-it-all. 

Sadly, I feel like this potential misconception is only reinforced by the fact that I don't talk with my brothers and sisters much outside of church or study, due in part to my introverted tendencies. They all seem so much deeper in Christ than I am. They know verses, and don't have to check the index of their Bible to figure out where a particular book is so they can read. They've been on mission trips, raised multiple children in the faith, and served on the altar team. Some of them have known one another for decades, and I don't want to horn in on established patterns and relationships. I don't want to bother them. This is the same reason I almost never call or text my friends, although I'd be happy to take a call or text from them.

I know that the first item is ridiculous. My salvation isn't any less valid than theirs due to its shorter duration. But the second is harder to shake, and my life-long struggles with depression and anxiety don't help. I've always been this way. At work, I eat lunch alone, both to re-charge and to avoid butting into a set routine. 

So between keeping to myself outside of discussions and hogging the floor on occasion during them, I don't know that I paint the best picture of myself. And yes, I'm aware that I kind of sound like I'm starting middle school. But the fact of the matter is that I've never had a "group." And I have a great difficulty with acknowledging that I belong anywhere. Again, ridiculous. Of course I belong with God and His people. But those habits are hard to shake.

I guess what I'm saying is that it's a process. The Lord made me who I am for a reason, and I need to grow into that and embrace it, and use it for the best. Now I just have to figure out exactly how that works. And in the meantime, if I talk too much, or too little, bear with me - I'm working on it.