The struggle to be believed

The first book signing for Someone You Already Know is this Saturday (Learned Owl in Hudson Ohio, 1pm)! What an awesome way to start 2013! Here's another excerpt, depicting the struggle of one survivor to be believed by another:

There are certain things we already know, things we don’t need schooling on: that no means no, yes is yes, what is permissible at one moment may not be at another time. But the root of our conflict, as two young women struggling to understand how much of a role our bodies play in our identities as people, is that neither of us fits the definition of “That Girl” we always imagined would find herself in predicaments like ours. Somehow we believed we were born with immunity. Why is that exactly?

I explained to Katherine everything I knew for sure, everything that should have happened if he really loved me: He should have stopped when I told him to. He should have stopped right away, not several minutes later when he wanted to. His exact words at one point were “I was having too much fun to stop.” He commented on my nervousness, my inability to relax and “go with it.” He knew I was not completely on board with what was happening; that it meant so much more to him than it did to me, because I didn’t need to fool around to feel loved. He came up with that on his own. 

     “You know you wanted it.”

     “I thought if I kept going, you would change your mind and start liking it.”

     “You’d be real hot if you didn’t look so terrified.”

I stare into my coffee cup as the room starts spinning. The pounding in my head is unrelenting.

     

It was exhausting, just putting to words these conflicting feelings I’ve had for so long, but it’s still not enough for Katherine. “So he never actually forced you to do anything” she retorts. I can’t tell if this is a question or an accusation. “He never held you down or used a weapon, or –“

Obviously this conversation was not going to be easy, though for someone who was intent on listening without judgment, she wasn’t doing a very good job. “No, he didn’t hit me or threaten me with a knife or a gun or anything that put my life in immediate danger,” I snap. “But you know what, Katherine? I don’t see what difference it would have made if he had. We were supposedly in a relationship; just saying ‘no’ should have been enough. Please explain to me why saying ‘no’ was not enough.”

Even after I said that, my mind was full of the same old doubts: Did I really say “no” loudly and clearly every time? To what extent does my body language count? Is it unrealistic to expect John to have read my nervous shaking as a refusal, even when he knew I was desperate to impress him? 

It’s funny; I’ve seen enough romantic comedies to know what it looks like when a guy and a girl are mutually enthusiastic about hooking up. Yet the more I think about it, the nature of consent itself is such a fine, crooked little line with so much gray area smudged in the middle. Will guys need to sign permission slips acknowledging what behaviors are acceptable? Is a girl allowed to change her mind after saying yes? How is a normal guy, who may have the best of intentions, supposed to know if what he’s doing is okay?

The question of what consent is -- and isn't -- comes up again in the discussion guide at the end of the novel. It's true that plenty of people don't fully understand the nature of consent, but manage to have sex without raping anyone. Even still, this is a topic that deserves to be addressed by everyone, regardless of relationship status and experience.