Dirty Little Secrets - Kerry Cohen [47]
But this time, it was surely rape, because she is almost sure she said not to. She’s almost sure she tried to push him off. She can’t be sure. They all run together sometimes—the one she really liked, the one she didn’t know if she liked but thought she could, the one she definitely didn’t want to have sex with. They had all led up to this moment for Jennae. The boy had come by because she hadn’t evacuated with her family because she had been fighting with them, and she had said she could handle things herself. He wasn’t violent, but he was intentional, forceful. He didn’t even try to kiss her. He was from her school. He knew she was a slut. And with her panties off, she saw that she couldn’t really handle herself. She knew in that moment, her head to the side so she wouldn’t see his face, that she wouldn’t handle anything again.
Jennae’s story is heartbreaking, and not just because she was raped. It’s heartbreaking because violation for her, like so many other girls, was a thing without clear outlines. The sex she had with boys before her rapist was also violating—maybe. The lines remain unclear because how she felt regarding sex, her intention, what she wanted and didn’t want, have all long been blurry. Jennae is typical in this way. Like any other girl, she received all the confusing messages about sex. She had normal sexual desire. She got something from sexual attention that was both easy to get and hard to get elsewhere.
Danita told me about how she came to be a loose girl. A neighbor boy molested her when she was eight, and ever since then, she has felt unable to connect in the ways she wants with a boy. She said, “I like sex. Who doesn’t like sex? But it’s like every time I try to be close with a guy, I feel like he wants to push me where I don’t want to go. I don’t want to tell them I was raped. It’s, I don’t know, a turn-off for most guys. So usually I just go along with things, even when I’m not that into it.” When Danita met someone she really liked and got into a relationship with him, she stopped wanting to have sex. She didn’t want him to touch her, which confused her. She said, “After all those times I had sex, I couldn’t understand why I would suddenly feel sickened by sex with someone I wanted to be with.”
These experiences of having sex when you only sort of want to, or even don’t want to, is one of the defining qualities of loose-girl behavior. We have sex because we want something from it that has nothing to do with the sex itself—in Danita’s case, it’s the assurance that the guy will still want her, that he won’t go away. It’s so hard to say no when you feel like a boy’s desire for you means so much about you, when you believe it will make you worthwhile. Add to this the fact that boys’ sexual aggression is generally considered a normal part of their sexual development—boys will be boys, and they can’t help themselves. The end result is usually a sense of violation, much like the violation a person feels after rape. Once Danita got comfortable and safe with a man, her body finally reacted to that violation. She shut down.
Beatrice asked me outright how to say no. She felt like she needed a script—a polite set of lines she could follow each time—so she would stop having sex with men she didn’t want to have sex with simply because they wanted her to. We came up with a few responses she could feel comfortable with, including white lies about why she couldn’t: “I have to get up early tomorrow,” “I’m not feeling well,” “I have a boyfriend.” Some may judge her for the white lies.