Consent.
Today I am feeling really done with the overarching idea that another human’s body is something a man can do whatever he wants to with.
Done.
This isn't something new, this feeling of being done with this particular thing, but this morning was a refresher, a reminder of how the world...how men...think their needs supersede the needs of others.
Here's what happened:
I was in the kitchen making tea. My husband walked up and grabbed my ass.
He *knows* not to do this. Implicitly. Absolutely. Without any reason for doubt. He *knows* not to grope me, kiss me, fondle me, or otherwise force himself into my physical space.
We are estranged. We have been estranged for nearly 2 years. We have been in a sexless marriage for...I honestly can't remember. (There are varying descriptions of what a sexless marriage is and it can mean no more than 10x per year or not more than 1x per month.)
When I think back to when everything changed I can name a date. August 28, 2001. The day I gave birth to our daughter. Suddenly, then, I was a MOTHER and therefore no good for a roll in the sack, only good for cooking and cleaning and taking care of children.
In a normal relationship, one that's healthy and sexual, groping might something that's fun, flirty, and has implicit consent for that built in.
This is not the case. I have set very clear boundaries around what I will allow and having these boundaries repeatedly disregarded in my own home is not okay.
And here's the real problem, instead of apologizing, he acts like I have done something wrong when I say, "Please don't do that."
He says, "I just love you and I want to touch you."
He stomps off as if offended or attacked.
This is the real core of problem. My body is not something he, and please understand that 'he' is a stand in for all cis het men in Western culture, he not only acts but actually feels as if HE is the one who has been harmed in this scenario.
It is stunning. Truly.
And it's hard to stand there and to feel in my power and to not fall back into the storyline that I've done him harm. I'm the one who was harmed. I am the one whose body and boundaries were crossed. Me. Why is the indoctrination pushing me to feel like I've done something wrong?
Because my whole life, and this is likely true for many non cis het white males, I have been told that I am responsible for the actions and feeling and *even thoughts* of other people!
What the actual F.uck????
It's true though. It's true. And I am done running that story line. I did manage to hold my boundary and stand in my truth and power.
It looked like this: when he acted like he thought it was okay and that I was bad and wrong for stating that he should not grope me without permission and then stomped off? I made my tea.
That's it. I made my tea. And, obviously, now I'm writing this because it needs to be said. No one should ever touch you without your permission. Ever. EVER.
