Recommended: Mac McClelland’s “I’m Gonna Need You To Fight Me On This: How Violent Sex Helped Ease My PTSD” via Feministe.
It is every bit as mind-blowing as the title sounds so if you’re not up for that today don’t read it, but if you are, then this is an amazing piece of writing. Truth-telling at its very bravest.
It was my research editor who told me it was completely nuts to willingly get fucked at gunpoint. That’s what she called me when I told her the story. We were drunk and in a karaoke bar, so at the time I came up with only a wounded face and a whiny, “I’m not completely nuuuuts!” Upon further consideration, a more explanative response probably would have been something like: Well. You had to be there.
“There” would be Haiti, where I’d just spent two weeks covering the one-year anniversary of the earthquake that shook the country into ugly chaos. There, a local regular at my hotel restaurant who is not accustomed to taking no for an answer had gotten desperate. After proposing for the 87th time that I have intercourse with him, he was grasping for anything that might change my mind, trying eventually, wildly, “We can do this at gunpoint if that sells it for you.” And actually, it did, yeah.
A trigger warning would’ve been nice. title really didn’t indicate what was coming
I’m an idiot, please delete previous comment, I skimmed for the word ‘trigger’ should’ve actually read what you wrote! sorry!
Just so there’s more detail for those trying to figure out what ‘trigger’ means here: the article includes blow-by-blow (literally) details on what really is (as presented) a non-consensual violent ‘sexual’ encounter sort-of presented as BDSM – but with no safe words, no previous discussion of the details of the encounter (just the author saying ‘I’m gonna need you to fight me on this’), with it clear that the sub author was not in control – and some pretty severe violence.
Sorry, forgot to add – and the rape is somehow presented as being therapeutic and done with the blessing of her therapist, despite there being ethical issues you could drive a semi-trailer through. (This is kinda a big part of why I reacted with such emotion and, well, distress, so I just thought I’d share it for those trying to figure out whether to read.)
What I took away from this, apart from “Did an editor tear holes in this? The narrative is incredibly unclear”, was “Hey, a rape and a beating fixes chicks with PTSD!”, which, no.
lauredhel, I agree with you that the end message is troublesome to say the least and that what is described is nothing like BDSM. However, I’m confused by you describing it as rape when the author seems happy enough with the experience that she’s willing to describe it on the internet for everybody to read. It was an experience she sought out intentionally, and while maybe she took what we might consider “unacceptable” risks, that was her decision. I highly doubt we’re getting the full story of conversations with her therapist and Isaac. Personally, I’m unwilling to call this rape in direct contradiction to the way the author describes her experience.
Whoooa. That’s an interesting dissection of the often ignored sexual components of PTSD and harrasment of female journalists, but whoooa…
I would have appreciated a discussion of safewords and consent, especially wrt to her “encounter” with Issac. She goes to great lengths to describe how she has witnessed people who didn’t consent (and what happens to them), and how she personally didn’t consent to the Frenchmen’s advances at first, but there’s no “Yes, my sleeping with Issac, despite his outweighing me by sixty pounds and able to beat me in the face, is something I chose and/or knew what I was getting into.” It’s implied… But… Augh, the implication isn’t enough for me.
I’ve been sitting here trying to think of how to write what I want to write about this, but not having much luck. So here is my placemarker comment. I read this, and … yeah.
Gretchen: Sorry, but I am not up to re-reading and picking apart the story today. I am reading the story as written, seeing as it’s being presented around the interwebs as “incredible writing”. All I can know about the actual event is those words on a screen, and those words describe a violent, non-consensual sexual encounter. It’s kinda feminism 101, I think, that freely-given consent must take place throughout an encounter, not just consist of a nod or a few words at the start, for it to remain valid consent.
But no re-read for me; not today.
I couldn’t get past the intro. And another friend pointed out that this is a world where ultrasounds on Facebook are ‘overshare’ but explicitly detailing a sexual encounter emphasizing the lack of consent is ‘brave’.
I don’t think ‘trigger’ even really covers it for me. The self destructive behaviours of rampant unchecked PTSD don’t really need to be spelled out for me.
But, ultrasounds on Facebook :are: overshare for some of us. Sometimes I’ve felt like I’ve been kicked in the guts when I’ve seen on Facebook that yet another friend is having a baby, and I have never understood why people put up pictures of ultrasounds there either. Or rather, empathised with it. I know the logical reasons why people do it, but still don’t see why people do.
And, what was hard for me to articulate yesterday was, as someone who has had PTSD, even though I think that article / events were really extreme and I don’t know if it was the best way… that woman feels like it worked for her. So I don’t think it was the greatest but I can’t judge either because I recognised myself (in the past) in a couple of the non-extreme-violence sentences of that post and that, that additional understanding, is always helpful and welcome. So yeah. I do think it’s brave to share all that.
Anyway, I just had to say that Geek anachronism, I am not disagreeing for the sake of disagreeing, I felt strongly the opposite way and wanted to express that as respectfully as I could.
Ultrasound pictures on Facebook (or bump pictures) are an almost mandatory part of socially sharing pregnancy news. Christ knows I was hounded for them when I was pregnant. It is part of a longstanding social system of sharing experiences and knowledge, using an ill-suited method (since facebook is such an imprecise means of sharing information).
Pregnancies shared on Facebook are part of a mostly positive social bonding experience. ‘overshare’ is not analogous to upsetting or triggering. I’m pointing out the absurdity of a media that condemns positive sharing of positive news with a mostly eager audience but lauds the sharing of something that is intensely upsetting and often triggering. It feels like misery porn, it feels like treading on the lived experience of rape survivors with PTSD to make an unbalanced, overly personal and viscerally upsetting jab at current methodologies for treating PTSD.
I think this is an incredible story. People deal with trauma and life in general in such different ways. Very brave to put the truth out there about something many people wouldn’t and won’t feel comfortable or agree with.
I guess the thing that makes me think most is, sometimes I wouldn’t mind a trigger warning on stuff like that on Facebook. No, it’s not the same thing, but it’s not positive for all.
And, I think I’ll leave it there, because I think we’ve experienced the article at hand in the two different ways that are developing on this thread, and we’ve both already expressed that.
Wow… this was disgusting and depressing, and I just threw up a bit in my mouth. Gee, if only I’d known simulated rape was a cure for my PTSD! TEE-FUCKING-HEE!!
Fuck this shit.
I’m really wondering what this is doing on this blog–it seemed like a feminist space that was actually feminist…
It is a confronting article, certainly. But I like that it is written by a woman and that it isn’t written anonymously, and it is written about her own experiences and outlook, and I disagree that it is written about a ‘rape’, I think it is written about consensual (but really, really) violent sex. And I believe that such a thing exists if female participants say it does. Well, I do now; I’m reluctant to distrust this woman’s own account of herself.
It is only on feminist sites that I, personally, would want to explore this woman’s deeply unsettling experiences because I would only want to discuss it somewhere where I was not immersed in rape culture thinking.
The fact that this piece is so uncomfortable and yet so self-revealing and so honest in a public sphere is what attracted me to posting it here. I get that you don’t think it belongs on a feminist site, though I don’t love the way you told me that.
Thanks for posting this reply Blue milk. I’ve been struggling to put people’s enjoyment of the article into a shape and form that I can understand, and you just explained it so well…you’ve given my brain a resting place on this one, which is something I really needed.
Yep thanks for that articulation Bluemilk. Best discussed in a feminist space where we can get through the nuances. Thanks for posting it and letting us have the space for discussion.
I’ve had a pretty ambivalent response to this, though I haven’t re-read it because it’s quite a difficult read. I found it both troubling and moving. I don’t think it describes rape, but what I do find problematic about it is that it is written to play at non-consensuality. The jump between asking for sex and having the sex is uncharacteristic of the rest of the description of the encounter, which is very detailed. So while I understand that she was evoking the experience to elaborate its significance for her (that the *sense* of a lack of consent was important in how she understood it to counter her PTSD, within the scene), it also meant that the conversation she and Isaac had had was also erased to help the violence be more shocking, and for the whole thing to read more like rape. There are reasons, and I get it, but it’s not unproblematic.
But again, this issue often arises with descriptions of scenes. Because the scene is *supposed* to be entirely real and true, even up to *feeling* nonconsensual, within its very strictly delimited temporal and spatial and consensual boundaries, having a pre- and post- story of negotiation and aftercare can de-intensify the emotion it’s angling for; evoking that fantasy of delimited really-truly-noncon is hard in the context of discussion and safewords which sully the fantasy. Which is why most bdsm erotica doesnt include a pre- or post- scene convo or whatever: it’s pure scene, pure fantasy. The troublingness here, I think, is that she describes, in detail, a world outside the scene, deliberately drawing the parallel between actual nonconsent and her scene – for reasons, yes – but having that outside world depicted, and *not* talking about the negotiation of the scene is troubling. The safety catch in this scenario isn’t made explicit, and some part of me thinks that it’s kinda awful that the privilege that makes her scene a scene (rather than real) is concealed, especially given her discussion of the rape survivor earlier. Eh. But now I’m wondering whether this is unkind. More thinking to do…
I cross-commented on your comment. If I had seen your comment first I could have saved myself some time and said, yeah, I agree with WP. Thanks for the comment.
I agree with something Orlando said above, too, and that is that the author is exploiting other people’s experiences of rape, to some degree in her story-telling – not sure what I think about that.
Ah, wasn’t me. I’ve been silently reading along, and trying to figure out why I disagree with Lauredhel, and thinking that maybe it wouldn’t hurt for me to take a break from offering an opinion on everything.
orlando: maybe another way of winkling it out would be to think about the act of choking and smothering and punching someone with PTSD repeatedly while they’re kicking, while they’re trying to fight themselves free, while they’re having a panic episode, and then while they’re exhausted, while they’re not enjoying it, while they’re not even breathing. How would one go about negotiating risk-aware consent for that? How would one ensure that consent is ongoing throughout a dissociative episode, how would the other person recognise dissociation, what would the plan be, how would that plan be negotiated? How would this other person know the difference – in an instant – between a person holding her breath and shut down but with her “mind present” – or under a pillow, while being beaten – and a person dissociating? How would that person know how to tell the difference between a person having a panic episode and kicking and screaming and no longer consenting but unable to articulate it in a pre-negotiated way due to their condition, and someone playing the sub role enthusiastically?
I think that “Is this situation in general possible to provide informed, enthusiastic consent in?” and “Was this particular instance a rape?” are two different questions. Perhaps a comparable example would be to distinguish between the idea that someone who is intoxicated cannot fully consent to sex and saying to a particular wo/man, about a particular occasion that “that was rape, because you were drunk” whether s/he has any concerns about consent on that occasion or not.
To put differently: perhaps the author was aware of all of the risks of the decision to have this extremely violent sexual encounter, including the risk that it could become rape midway through without (or with) her partner’s knowledge, and she chose to have it anyway.
A separate question is whether she puts others at risk in any way by describing the situation the way she does. I’m inclined to say that that is the case, because of the issues others have mentioned:
1) the implication that violent sex can “cure” PTSD, which obviously is completely false, and
2) the seeming lack of conversations about consent, boundaries, etc etc which makes it seem like the whole encounter was negotiated in two sentences. There are subtle hints in the piece, eg “We’d done this sort of thing before.”, but I don’t think they’re clear enough to indicate that there’s probably a lot of untold history and negotiation that went into that encounter. That could put people who think this might help them in a lot of danger.
I really appreciate the piece being posted. It really resonated with me and has given me a lot of food for thought.
I would have really liked the pre- and post- discussion, too – but the lack of it is part and parcel of the way some of us use/used violence and sex in our own self-healing.
I won’t touch the PTSD, it’s not part of my experience, but sexual risk-taking including not-formally-negotiated BDSM was a big part of my working through a lot of emotional issues. It really does flirt with all sorts of ethical issues, as does self-medication and other DIY brain bending exercises – but the lack of consent an outsider could see (including the partner/rapist), along with the author’s recognizing her own consent, is very familiar with me, from both sides.
This is how I read the story – the journalist reports on various international crises while also facing an almost constant threat of sexual violence and it takes its toll on her. She finally comes undone when she is confronted with a woman psychologically collapsing on account of a horrific gang-rape. The journalist acknowledges that she herself is experiencing PTSD and she now becomes obsessed with thoughts of rape. She is both terrified of how she would survive such an experience herself and helplessly drawn to situations where this is a possibility. Her therapist (probably among many strategies) suggests to her that if she feels obsessed with thoughts of violent sex (and obsessed with how much she shouldn’t be obsessed with these thoughts) that does she have a friend who could help her out with experiencing violent sex as a way of defusing the obsession and moving past it. She does have a lover she trusts with this experience. They have very violent sex; sex where she gets to feel completely out of control. The journalist details some of that – but not the boundaries, if they have any – and then she says that this has helped her move through her PTSD.
It is a very challenging story, but then nihilism is always pretty challenging. A lot of fucked up thinking happens when you experience trauma, knowing that you are thinking fucked up things is also incredibly traumatic.. I think it is valuable when some brave souls choose to confront that publicly.
“There are subtle hints in the piece, eg “We’d done this sort of thing before.”, but I don’t think they’re clear enough to indicate that there’s probably a lot of untold history and negotiation that went into that encounter.”
@Gretchen – thats what I thought too. Does this journalist have an interest in BDSM that existed before her PTSD? Because for me that makes a big difference. But then again maybe that was in the original and it was edited out by someone else.
Can I just ask, what about the man in all of this? Do you think it’s ok that he was willing to do that to a friend? I’m critical of BDSM culture anyway, from a feminist point of view, but this is even more problematic. If this man does’t qualify as a rapist, technically, he’s not far from one and if he can stomach that sort of violence against a friend will he be seeking it out again? The thought that a therapist advocates for ” violent sex” sickens me. Is assault no longer a problem. I don’t believe in anyone being beaten “for their own good”, no matter what the context.
Good question Milly. Another thought I had was how would I feel about a man saying that having violent sex helped him with his PTSD? (And I mean him being the dominant and not the submissive in the experience).
I don’t know, this is such a new area of thought for me.
I feel like there’s something important here about distinguishing between consensual violence and non-consensual violence: just as rape and sex are separable, so too are these two. I also am not sure about this whole ‘will he be seeking it out again’ motif: maybe he will, but seeking *it* out means seeking it out with other consenting participants. But then, I am massively discomforted by the characterisation of bdsm that seems to be happening on this thread, so I’m not surprised I’m dissenting on this.
I know people with ptsd who are into bdsm; it’s part of how they manage it, sometimes. There’s also a fairly established area of therapy which is concerned with invoking the ptsd in some way, in order to reconstitute those memories in slightly different ways. Yes, this doesn’t make the therapist’s advice any less of a ‘whoa!’ moment for me, but it’s also worth noting that it seems to have worked for Mac, even if that doesn’t make any claims about whether it will, or would, work for others (and I’ll note that whilst I understand the concern, she never – to my recollection – advised anyone to do similar). Whilst I understand that this scene is troubling – I was troubled by it – I’m not willing to simply say that my discomfort is the truth of this situation, when it’s clearly so different to Mac’s experience of it.
I’m also not willing to suggest that because it may have been difficult for Isaac to ascertain consent, it therefore was non-consensual, though I absolutely understand and, although I’m ambivalent about it, to some extent share Lauredhel’s concern about how ptsd and bdsm work together… but in this respect, I’m a bit cautious about mischaracterising the kink community and the way that bdsm works, because I sincerely believe that bdsm is not always about ‘fun’ and ‘enjoyment’ in ways that are recognisable outside of that context. The release involved in bdsm is not always sexual, for e.g…
Thanks WP, I totally suck at really unpacking violent sex and BDSM so your response was very helpful.
Well, as a woman who had a partner who wanted me to hurt her, but wouldn’t say so directly, but would push me farther and farther, and did have a history of abuse, but wasn’t willing to talk about it, and did clearly enjoy sex more the rougher we could make it, and would not do a number of squeaky-clean vanilla things because they were “dirty”, and was both a highly evolved and rational adult and a person with a lot of trauma who sometimes committed self-harm…it’s complicated.
Sometimes you do things you’re not sure you want, because the person you love is clearly trying to get you to do them. Sometimes she publicly says it was therapeutic, sometimes you remain her dirty little secret forever, sometimes it turns out it wasn’t a good idea for either of you. You never really know – I stopped contact with that woman after she hurt me a number of times, so I have no idea if/how she tells the story of our relationship.
It seems like the standard you’re setting – for clear, unconfused, open communication between lovers at all times – is both a great goal and completely unworkable for a lot of us at different times in our lives.
That was a tough piece to read Blue Milk, tho i guess you got that message. I did appreciate the highlighting of referred trauma. The mugging, death threats and general violence at my various former jobs often saw me sent to the counsellors, but it was the stories of clients that had the most egregious effect on me, intruding into my thoughts at inopportune times. Generally this was not too much of a problem, thinking about the concerns of work while sitting on the front porch, bevvy in hand can occasionally help you to see an old problem with a new light, there were other times when it wasn’t so crash hot.
I’m not entirely sure who you’re responding to, Rosa (this nesting comments thing has just confused me!) But yeah, I agree that this stuff is really complicated. I’ve been in a similar position to you with a partner who wanted violence, and negotiating that was complex for me (and for her, of course). I think that clear communication *does* help, though it’s not always possible, I know – in my case, my partner also saw a Domme who gave her some of the kinds of release I was hesitant about. But it’s not necessarily the magic bullet that clarifies fuzzy situations (although to be honest, I really do think that the situation between Mac and Isaac was pretty thoroughly negotiated, but I’m going off memory here and the uncomfortable knowledge that playing up the violence and the noncon made the whole piece more sensational, coz rereading is a bit much just now). But I’m not sure that I’m okay with what I understand as a consensual situation (and what Mac does too, and clearly Isaac as well) being used to suggest that the man involved is edging towards being an abuser. For lots of dommish people I know, consent is what transforms the situation into something they can participate in, and I’m not sure what about this case is indicating Isaac is any different to them.
I have some other thoughts here about eroticism, safety and consent, but I think maybe this isn’t the place for them, so I’ll continue turning them over in my head. Except to say that the effects of sex often (I would even say always) are unpredictable to some degree, and that consent in this context is profoundly important, but also can’t quite ‘capture’ the effects any given encounter might have. Which is vague, and kind of a placeholder for more and other thoughts not directly related to this post
I was responding to Milly, where she said “what about the man in all this? Do you think it’s ok that he was willing to do that to a friend?”
But I totally appreciate your comments. I wish I had a lot coherent to say about my various experiences with violence and sex, other than affirming that it definitely can be therapeutic.
Sorry Rosa, I hadn’t realised the conversation had been continued here. I think I reacted pretty emotionally to the piece. This is definitely a triggering topic!
I guess I’m happy to admit that in our current society that great goal of open, clear communication might be unworkable at times but I think we can still work towards that goal by being critical of the eroticisation of violence like that found in the piece.
I’d also like to say that I think it makes a difference that we’re talking about a man and not a woman as the perpetrator of violence. And that if we can accept the complexity of this ‘grey area’ between ‘therapeutic violence’ and ‘bad, wrong violence’ then we have to admit that the action/reaction of this man is going to be pretty complex too. If he’s been able to train his body to commit violence then the presence or absence of consent, when push comes to shove, isn’t the simple on/off switch suggested. I’m not saying it would be impossible for him to respect boundaries in the future, just that he’s one step closer to taking the safety cap off. Like someone who’s gotten comfortable with handling a loaded gun.
If it helps any, I’ve been thinking about this question, likening it to my discomfort with contact sports like AFL and Rugby League. There are probably a lot of participants that get some sort of therapeutic release from playing and spectating and maybe that redirects some people’s problems with aggression in a positive way but I think overall those sports are harmful contributors to a society sick with violence.
Milly, no problem on the delay. It is a complicated & emotional subject and the article was written very provocatively.
My main problem with the what about the man/is he a rapist is partly that it’s not trusting the author – she would be the “victim” here, so her word on her own consent should be final. It’s not grey – she thought about it ahead of time, she decided, etc. The other is your specific idea about him being now trained to commit violence. Following that farther, what, if he does become a rapist it’s the author’s fault for giving him a taste for it? Is the line between rapists and nonrapists whether they’ve ever done BDSM play? I don’t think so.
I think there is culpability, a little bit, in getting into BDSM situations for your own purposes (murky as they may be – motivations can be much murkier than this author’s stated ones) and without clear negotiations. And Lauredhel’s point about continuing consent from a person with trauma – but I don’t think that responsibly should fall harder on people depending on what *kind* of sex they’re having (whether it should fall harder on journalists who write about their sex lives is another issue.)
This is a piece written by the “Isaac” of her story about another of their sexual experiences together: http://www.alternet.org/sex/83459/?page=1 Nothing triggery in his piece, that I can see.
blue milk: that piece definitely needs a warning for sex after “heavy drinking”, in which the author makes it quite clear that he was drunk, indeed “too drunk to stay awake”, after they finished.