Speak Up

He’s too afraid to speak out, worried that his actions, that his words will make him a ‘sissy’. He tried talking about his feelings before, how she made him feel, what she made him do. His words were met with blank stares, empty faces. He tried to tell them what she did, how she used and manipulated him to get what she wanted. She was in a position of power and she abused that power with abandon, she made him feel like the smallest man on earth. Its our little secret she used to say, plying him with the promise of a promotion that would never come. She made him cry hot salty tears, she tasted them with cruel ecstasy. She told him to serve her in more ways than one, he refused, she threatened to cut his job. What other choice did he have? A young man lost in the sea of desolation, caught up in a battle that wasn’t his to fight. She wanted to feel young, wanted the touch of a young man, no strings attached. She was willing to play dirty to get what she wanted. He said no, she said yes, her word over his a more common occurrence than you think. He did not know that this was sexual harassment, he thought that only girls went through that. He told his mates, they laughed thinking he was playing a practical joke. You love it they said, playfully punching him in the arm. No, no I don’t he told them firmly, feeling the hot spring of tears that were waiting to spill. They looked at him funny, said that that was a ‘girls problem and not a mans’. They didn’t believe him, his own best friends of twelve years and counting. If they thought that sexual harassment was funny, then who was to say that the authorities wouldn’t take it as a joke too?

But the young man persevered, seeking justice against the woman who had made his life hell. She would turn up outside his house, begging him for sex to feel his touch once more. Each time he would refuse, each time she would get violent. She caused damage, hell she was damage with a capital ‘D’. She destroyed his father, whose ashes now lay scattered across his threadbare carpet. She left bruises on his neck when he told her to get out of his house. Your worthless she used to say, your good for nothing but your a tease and I Iike that. He wanted to tell her that she was a sexual predator, wanted her to know how bile was caught in his throat everytime he looked at her but he couldn’t get the words out in time. She smashed her botox filled lips on his, biting his face with intent to wound. He struggled out of her grasp but she was prepared for this outcome and pushed him to the ground. He was stronger than she but she had got there first and rode him roughshod. He was frightened that this woman who he hated was inside him, ashamed that his fright had left him aroused. But he needn’t have been ashamed, he had done nothing wrong, it was she who was the villain in this narrative. She had got what she wanted and left, like the vicious cat who had got the cream. For hours he was curled up in ball, crying and shaking but noone was there to comfort him. She had crossed the line and he had enough, the police were going to listen whether they liked it or not.He told them what she had done, how she had used and abused him without his consent. How he told his friends and they laughed. She raped me he said, they gave him a funny look. But you were erect when this liaison took place, as though his erection was caused by excitement and not fear. I told her to stop  he told them, she raped me, she caused damage to my property. She destroyed my fathers ashes, she was inappropriate… what more evidence do you need?! They turned around and told him that it was not rape, that he was willing to be penetrated. I never asked for it he said pleading for them to listen, she manipulated me, told me she would cut my finances. How could I survive without my job? They looked thoughtful, so you definitely didn’t want to have sex? No, no he cries, she has bullied and harassed me for months please make her stop, she has hurt me in more ways than one. Swabs are taken, forensic evidence samples couriered away. They check his home, question him again, seem surprised that he wouldn’t want to have sex. Why will noone believe me he pleads in disbelief, aware that rape culture is  seen with a man as a propagator. The tables are turned and he is the victim but he is the victim who cried wolf. She made up some petty bullshit said that he forced her into having sex, said that he raped her or he would kill her. Smashed his own fathers urn in anger at her saying no. Its not f**king true, its not true why don’t you believe me.

She is the woman with power once more and he is behind bars, convicted for a crime he didn’t commit. He spends some months wasting away, wishing for an end to his ceaseless hell. One day she visits, he is unaware. Guards believe that she is reaching out to him because she ‘forgives him’ but he will never forgive her. You made my life hell he says, you took away my youth and innocence. Oh please she laughs, we both know that you wanted it. She forgets that inmates are being monitored, that every word she utters is being recorded in the control room. The control room is buzzing with activity, watching the woman who cried rape confess her crime. Arrests are made and the man is set free, happy to see this delusional monster in the place he was forced to call home. He spits on her with disgust, you made me jaded and depressed. I wanted to kill myself… how does that make you feel? She says nothing, she is home at last. Years go past and the wounds begin to heal but he cannot bring himself to have sex, he is scared that another woman will cry wolf and convict him of a crime that wasn’t his in the first place. Every night he prays for a new life, away from this ruin that she created. The after effects of her assault is more sequential than people think and he cries into the empty hollow of the night, alone.He reaches out to me after seeing my post on sexual harassment, asking me to share his story, to show that men are victims of sexual harassment too. I want you to be my voice he tells me, I want you to know that men are victims too and he is right. Men are told that they have to want sex, that they are programmed to want it all the time but that is just a myth. Please tell them how I feel, how broken it has made me. He reads my posts on abuse, bullying and harassment knows that I am the right person for the job. Knows that his story is safe in my hands. I will speak up I tell him, we will speak up together. 

Will You Speak Up For The Victims Of Sexual Assault? Join Me And Speak Up.