miss understanding

today I got back from yoga to the delightful little missives below:

"Hay maggie! didnt go 2 the mines.just thought 2 let u know.You may not give a shit! After my smartass texts i gave u.but dontget me wrong. It was all a big miss understanding and sorry if it upset u.x @10.18am"

indeed!

Last fortnight, Katrina Fox's column is SX - had a great and funny piece about 'the standard' abusive txts from dykes to each other. MOstly along the lines of :"Hey bitch,I wanna fuck you with one of my 10 dildo's with other girls names on them" "why haven't you replied you stupid fuck? go fuck yourself then"....... and the Foxy Femme was laughing at how straight girls don't take shit from men - and make formal protests from far less abusvie texts.......

and I reckon straight girls have got a point. No one deserves to put up with annoying harrassing shit - from a man or a woman - and no-one should feel they have the right to dish it out.

I gues that's what motivated me to start publishing the texts from psychobunny up on my blog.

Because I find this shit totally unnacceptable, and outrageous, and assume other people do. And I don't think its a private matter - its a very public matter.

I assumed that by being NICE to someone on a one night stand - that would earn me some level of esteem and respect. But no!

so in future I'll try to drop a turd in bed or something.

well, maybe not.

and the niceness gets me worried to: the nice girl role sounds like the 'rape script' scenarios that I've hjust been teaching to the earnest undergrand sof Austrlaia's oldest university.

(Sharon Marcus's argument) - that rape happens because rapists start pushing limits, skirting along boundaries and taking the nice pollite ocmpliance role that women have and pushing it, and pushing it and pushing it. Meanwhile women 'go along' being nice, pollite, sweet. Acting available - not syaing 'fuck off you freak'....until things get out of control.ad then sometimes not even then.

Sigh

I think of my own histories - of coercion and nastiness. Even now I don't use the R word. Because there was no clothes tearing, no screams, no scratches. Because I didn't say no. Well not very loudly and only a few times. and not because I didn't say yes.

Ir emember bieng a small pubsecent mayhem. watching scary sixty mintes stories about "the horror of rape" (TM) and thinking 'yeah, it if happens to me, I'll play dead and pretend to go a long with it; so he won't notice".

I think I was 9 at the time?

I'm not denying that violent rape is horrible and violating and a thing that any right thinking woman should be terrified of.

But Isn't it any more horrifying having 9 year old girls writing little secret scripts for themselves - for how they'll comply, collapse and cope when the big bad monster comes to eat them up?

and of course - when a big bad monster did violate me a few years later..... I was sweet and silent and kind of confused and very very sad - but it took YEARS for me to let myself feel anger.

It didn't seem like the bad stories from TV. It wasn't violent, it wasn't a stranger, and I still had my hymen afterwards.


anywya - enough of sad scary stories.

Being socialised as female - living in fear becomes so habitual as to feel instinctive. the nocturnal key clutching, the nocturnal purda, staying home in a locked up house. Staying still, silent, sober and sensible. not taking risks. not drawing attention to oneself.

so its strange how when I've felt real fear - this time around - I've been strangely calm. splitting off and calmly typing out the tome.

but the rest of the time - when I'm not actively avoiding my feeling of being shit scared - I'm in a constant state of anxiety. Whingeing about the consort, fretting about Abel, and err... yeah. Avoiding my feelings of fear, distress, irritation and anger. That its happened again. That poeple trat me like shit. that poeple don't understand me. that as uch as I try to be nice and sweet and generous and clear, I still get pushed into corners, squeezed into shapes I don't fit into and not listened to when I protest.

Maybe its time to take up kickboxing.