Sunday, 3 November 2013

The Nature of being female

Over the course of the last 32 years I've often asked myself what it is that defines a woman. What makes us female, feminine or whatever other word you want to use to describe those of us who are not males.

And of course being a woman - being a girl - being female - defines every aspect of our life and is the fundamental basis of my identity. I have no choice in the matter; I was born female and I have to live with the consequences of that for the rest of my life.

Of course I thought about what it meant to be, first, a girl and then, as I became a teenager, what it meant to be a woman. It seemed obvious that the feminist propaganda was right and that the main differences between us and men were cultural rather than biological.

I believed not only that men and women were equal but that I was as good as any man; I believed I was entitled to equal pay, equal opportunity, an equal say in things with men, equal rights, that it was MY body and MY choice was to do with it and that my vagina was something to be looked on with honour and respect as the channel through which life entered the world.

Well on one level of course we CAN do nearly everything a man can; there ARE female scientists, engineers, politicians, businesswomen and so on. Maybe (even in the West) the proportion of them is small but I used to think that was purely down to male prejudice against women.

But I was wrong.

How did I begin to question the ideas of feminism? Well, it started when I was 18 years old. I still have trouble writing about the whole shebang (even thinking about it is painful in many ways) but basically it began when I was raped.

And that single act - actually a whole weekend during which I was repeatedly raped by a man who got me drunk and abducted me - led to the beginning of my awakening.

There were so many levels on which my rape made me question my feminist beliefs. To begin with when I looked back at it I realised that I had been largely responsible for what happened to me. I'd been drinking, flirting with the young man, talking dirty and was dressed in a sexually provocative way. I'd more or less given him the green light for sex and then I'd held back at the last minute to tease him. It was as if I felt that being female gave me power over him.

So when I thought back about my rape I saw that if I had behaved differently it wouldn't have happened and that made me feel very guilty.

Because i was honest enough to admit to myself that i'd behaved badly and that my own behaviour had largely led to my rape i began to question the feminist dogma that rape is always the man's fault and never the woman's.

i realised we had a responsibility to behave properly and if we didn't then bad things might happen to us and so we had a duty to act responsibly.

That in itself marked a change in my attitudes but another aspect of my rape shook me to the core and led me towards a feeling of self-loathing and shame that has never really left me. Although for the last eight years i've accepted it more because i understand things better now - not only myself but the true role of females within society and in terms of sexuality - but the feeling of shame and self-contempt remains and will never leave me.

What shook me rigid and made me agonise for years is how i reacted when i was raped.

i orgasmed, i came, i was aroused by and responded to my rape!

That led to six years of self-contempt, self-hatred and shame. What was wrong with me? Was i a depraved slut who enjoyed being raped? Was i mentally ill to have found sexual pleasure in my rape?

It wasn't until i met my future Husband when i was 24 years old that He explained things to me and suddenly it all made sense for the first time. He made me realise that not only was i to blame for my rape (i'd already understood that for the six previous years) but that i'd positively WANTED to be raped and had set out to engineer the situation so that i WOULD be raped.

This came as a blinding revelation to me. At the time i was convinced that the last thing i'd wanted to happen was to be raped and yet acually that was EXACTLY what i'd wanted!

Another lightbulb went off in my head when i asked Him - rather embarrassed - why it was that when i'd been raped i'd orgasmed. He laughed at that question and told me the answer was obvious. i told Him it wasn't obvious to me and could He explain it because i still couldn't understand it even after six years of thinking about it.

When He told me WHY it was i came it was suddenly blindingly clear and logical. He said three things all of which made perfect sense to me and explained everything.

The first was an elaboration of the fact that i'd obviously WANTED to be raped. He said that the fact that i orgasmed through being raped proved three things - that i'd WANTED to be raped, that i'd ENJOYED being raped and that i'd CONSENTED to being raped.

i'd already accepted that i'd really wanted to be raped and that i must have enjoyed it or i wouldn't have cum like i did but the idea that i'd actually CONSENTED to the rape threw me completely and i asked Him to explain it to me.

He laughed and said, think, donna. What happened when you were raped is that you came. The mere fact that you HAD an orgasm when you were raped PROVES that you DID consent to it. The mind can lie but the body always tells the truth. And your body said just one thing - please rape me.

The whole idea that rape was something i'd actually consented to threw me at first but once again it made perfect sense. Suddenly i saw things more clearly and i recognised that i'd behaved appallingly. IN spite of the fact that my bad attitudes and bad behaviour meant that i'd DESERVED to be raped as a punishment i'd also got tremendous sexual pleasure out of it.

When i asked Him to explain how it was that i'd got sexual pleasure out of being raped He laughed again and told me i'd been brainwashed by feminist propaganda Just being fucked isn't enough, He said. All that crap about love and tenderness and consent is just bullshit. You might have been fucked, He told me, but what you had when you got fucked wasn't REAL sex. RAPE is the ONLY real sex there is.

i was dumbfounded but yet again it all made perfect sense to me. Rape was REAL sex and just being fucked was play acting. And as for 'making love' he was totally scornful about that.

At that point in our discussions He got into deeper stuff about what it means to BE female and how a REAL Man thinks and behaves. It was shocking, fascinating and enlightening all at once. My head was spinning as all the feminist beliefs i'd held were being blown away with simple logic. It was a devastating but exhilarating experience and at last i slowly began to grasp the truth.

But because this post is already too long i'll put the killer punch in part two!

1 comment:

  1. I do love the way you think. I've known a couple girls who said they were raped. My ex wife was one. And both said they came. The other, it seems, always got off on rape porn. She loved the stuff.