Christians Suck at Consent, Part 2

It gets worse.

Chuck II

The same day all that other stuff happened, another guy messaged me. We'll call him Chuck II, because, again, I don't know anyone named Chuck. Unfortunately for Chuck II, I was on an honesty kick, because of a lack of sleep and what had just transpired with Chuck I.

So when Chuck the Second sidled up to me via facebook messenger and said he was also interested in the project I was working on (translation, "Heyyyyyyyy there"), I told him the truth:

That I felt like he was physically pushy when we dated (we went on two dates total) and that it made me feel disrespected.

His response wasn't great. In fact, it may have filled me with inchoate rage.

Let's go back in time again to a few years ago.

On our first date, we went to coffee. So far, so normal.

At the end of our second date, Chuck II tried to shove his tongue into my mouth after we hugged goodbye. I was taken aback. Again, it felt like it had very little to do with me or with us having a "moment" (I've had moments before. This was not a moment). There were no signals coming from any direction that said, "Now is sexy, sexy make-out time." Was it the bright sunlight of a Hollywood afternoon? The ambiance of the brick walkway in front of my rent-controlled apartment? Who knows.

I pulled away in surprise and soon texted him that I "just wanted to be friends," because apparently things were escalating quickly. He apologized and said he wanted to take things at my pace. I think we settled on something like friends with the potential for more.

The next time we hung out, he was all over me. And when I went to hug him goodbye, he didn't let go of me at first, but instead held me tightly and said, "What if I ask this time?"

And then he pressed me about why I just wanted to be friends as I was about to get into my car to leave.

THIS. This is why.

So when I told Chuck II that I felt like he was physically pushy and he didn't respond well, I got angry.

His response? He wasn't physically pushy—not from his perspective. In fact, he is "hyper-aware of [implied: all] the choices and moves" he makes. Respecting me had been really important to him because he liked me. And I had judged him too quickly.

Not only that—he was hurt that I felt disrespected

Come again? He had violated my personal boundaries—violated my body—but it was his feelings that truly mattered. I had misjudged him. I was wrong, and it was all my fault.

When I said that the conversation was upsetting me and I was ending it, he blithely suggested we meet up for coffee so we could "make amends." And that's when I really lost it.

Again, I felt like a face and a body that a man had projected his wishes and desires onto, not a real person. Hyperaware though he may have been, Chuck II made no mention of being aware of what I was thinking or feeling. I guess he meant, "I was hyperaware that I wanted to kiss you. And so I did."

I felt like a non-entity—Chuck II didn't think he was disrespectful, Chuck II thought he was very respectful. In fact, Chuck II was extraordinarily confident and wildly intentional about all the choices he made during the brief time we dated.

To put it graphically:

Chuck II was more confident about sticking his tongue in my mouth and pressing his boner up against me on a second date than I have ever been about anything in my entire life, ever.

It feels like I'm mocking him (which isn't nice, I know), but I'm actually dead serious: I wish that I had that much confidence about anything—ANYTHING at all—choosing which mismatched socks to wear in the morning, my career, my decision to live in Los Angeles, anything.

With credit to Sarah Hagi for the original version of this

Lack of dating experience or something else? 

It's not like I met these guys on the internet—we met through mutual friends and still have many, many mutual friends. We met in "Safe," "Christian" contexts. They are "nice guys."

It's easy to look at these incidents and think, "Well, maybe he just doesn't have a lot of experience."

I've dated Christian guys like this. They're not always good at dating. They make mistakes. Obviously, not all of them are this bad.

But there's something deeper going on when a guy corners me in his car and almost demands that I give him a chance and go on a date with him (Chuck III?) or when a guy takes my picture after a couple of dates so that he can show his friends a picture of his "girlfriend." Or when a male friend tells me I'm too closed off and judgmental because I don't automatically assume that a stranger who approaches me in parking lot, at night, is safe (because what if he's just a nice guy, standing in front of a girl in the parking lot of Sprouts, asking her for her number, even though all she wanted was to buy some Brown Cow maple yogurt because that sh** is delicious?).

I feel like something is deeply wrong when I'm expected to educate men in their 20s, 30s or even 40s about the fact that women are people too, or when I'm expected to "give a chance" to someone who doesn't even respect me as a real person entitled to make her own decisions.

What doesn't seem to factor into any of these situations is me—my thoughts, my desires, my body, my decisions, my judgment, my intuition.

And I'm tired. I'm tired of feeling like I have to scream "NO" at the top of lungs to get someone to leave me alone. I'm tired of feeling like my pain doesn't have any meaning or significance unless I'm literally bleeding to death or dying of cancer.

I'm tired of being so disconnected from my own body that I only feel the rage of physical violation weeks, months, or years after the fact.

Consent isn't just about sex

Consent is about treating the other person like a person—not a body, not a good-looking accessory, not a blank canvas on which to project fantasies of marriage and children, not a character from a movie—but an actual person.

And these two stories in particular (though kind of funny) have been painful to write about—I've had to sit in it and think about why I felt so violated in the first place.

I've thought about how scary it is for a man to physically grab me out-of-nowhere, against my will, and start tipping me backwards. I've thought about how f***ing scary it is to have someone you don't know very well not let go of you (restrain you) and pressure you for something sexual that you don't want to give. How out-of-control and terrifying it is to feel like in that moment your body is not your own, is out of your control, is in the hands of someone who doesn't even see you.

I don't know how to describe it except to say that it cuts you off from your own physical being. That when you do start to tune back in from the numbness, all you can feel is pain.

It feels like sh**. That's what.

Undateable: Why Single Christian Guys are All Dented Cans - The Myth of Persistence

Photo by quinn.anya

So I've started doing this thing where I'm completely honest with men. Why?

Well, for one, it amuses me and my dark sense of humor. I get to say fun things like:

"I'm not interested in pursuing anything romantic with you."
"Hitting on one person on the fb status of another person is kind of a douche move."
"You fondled my earring at a BBQ and it made feel uncomfortable and disrespected."
"When you grabbed me from behind around my ribs directly under my breasts [yeah, that happened], I felt unsafe and violated."

Yep. That's right. Just waiting for the marriage proposals to roll on in.

For another, I'm done protecting a man's feelings at the expense of my own personal safety.

And that brings me to the topic for today in dented cans: THE MYTH OF PERSISTENCE. And yes, it definitely deserves to be in all caps.

There's this weirdly longstanding myth out there that women want men who will continue to pursue them even in the face of blatant rejection (see also, "The Notebook").

You say, "I just want to be friends."
He hears, "I just want to be friends until I change my mind and decide we should definitely get married and have five kids."

You say, "I'm not interested in you in that way."
He hears, "I'm not interested in you in that way, but you should definitely grab me and try to kiss me."

You say, "I like someone else."
He hears, "He's probably a douche-bag--so you still have a shot!"

To the men that believe this myth, "No, I'm not interested" means "Try harder. You're not trying hard enough. Persist long enough and I will say 'Yes.'"

Except it doesn't mean that.

No--when you persist in pursuing me after I have made my feelings clear, I can only assume that there is something wrong with you either emotionally or mentally. And the last thing in the world that I desire is to have an emotionally or mentally unstable man pursuing me, or worse, believing that I owe him something--a date, friendship, my time, a second chance.

In short, when a man will not take "No" for an answer, all my self-preservation instincts kick in, and all I want is for him to stay the **** away from me.

I feel fear and anger.

Fear--because if this man apparently can't understand or chooses not to understand the words that I use to communicate (perhaps if I did an interpretive dance?), who's to say what other boundaries of mine he won't violate due to this "misunderstanding"? If he has already violated my verbal boundaries and made me feel unsafe, there are still other boundaries he has yet to cross: emotional, spiritual, mental, physical.

But truthfully, I have trouble understanding the level of pure terror I feel when a man refuses to take "No" for an answer.

My best guess is that this is a dehumanizing experience--I am not a person to these men. I am the projection of all of their baggage about women. I "owe" him something--my body, my "Yes," a chance for him to prove that he is the man of my dreams and we are meant to be together-- In short, I cannot give consent because I am not fully human. His pursuit has very little do with me, and so much to do with the fantasy world he has created in his mind: A world in which I should say, "Yes."

At a certain point this fantasy becomes far more important than my humanity. And that is terrifying (cue visions of being chained up in a dungeon somewhere by a man who "just wants to love me," and is willing to wait as long as it takes for me to realize that).

My guess is that many men fail to understand this as well--they have never experienced fear for their personal safety in the context of romantic relationships, partially because women are not encouraged to pursue in the face of rejection, in fact, quite the opposite. Any romantic rejection is humiliating and shameful.

And what about "Not Leading Him On," that crime that women seem to be accused of at a substantially higher rate than men? Why do women so often take the path of least resistance, trying to "let him down easy." It goes back to fear, again. Women have been taught that saying "No" is not only rude, but also dangerous.

A stranger came up to me in the 99 cent store and told me that I was "beautiful." He followed this up immediately with, "That's a compliment you know."

Of course, I enjoy compliments most when they are followed by vaguely hostile or threatening statements. I also enjoy being put in a situation in a public space where I am expected to thank a stranger for harassing me or be subjected to the accusation of "ungrateful b___ who can't take a compliment."

Unfortunately for me, as a woman, I fear for my physical safety. Therefore, I try not to engage with men in an aggressive or potentially escalating manner.

The same goes for turning down men who are romantically interested in me--but as it turns out, it matters very little what I say:

I've had different Christian guys: Corner me in a car and demand repeatedly that I go out on a date with him, then text me to apologize and tell me that he really "respects" me; Tell me my job is on the line unless I let him back into my life (as a friend, of course); Ignore my request to be "just friends" by grabbing me and dipping me for a kiss, all while citing the scene in "Hitch" when Will Smith and Kevin James accidentally make out ("You lean in half way, then wait for her to go the other half").

Then there's the anger--yeah, being seen as not quite human kind of pisses me off. And there's the icky, would rather not think about it, idea that my biracial, "exotic" looks only contribute to the extent to which men are able to project their own fantasies onto my very real, non-white (but still human!) body.

The intersection between race and perceived sexual availability is a fraught one at best--but whether it applies here or not, let me just say:

I don't want to be touched, grabbed, or groped in public by men I don't know.
If I say I don't want to date you, I mean exactly that, and I don't care to repeat myself.
I am in no way obligated to explain to you why I am not interested. I owe you no justification whatsoever.
If you won't take "No" for answer, consider yourself banned from my life.

So why is it that Christian men are so horrible at grasping the concept of women as fully human?

The word "consent" is quite the buzzword these days, but I believe there are many Christian men who do not grasp the concept:

Consent (or if you prefer, "Respect") isn't just about sex. It's about respecting the boundaries of another human being--seeing them as fully human--in every single interaction, romantic or not.

There are certain things that "Nice" Christian guys tend to believe or say that are inconsistent with consent:

One, believing that if you go to the trouble of asking a girl out, she should say, "Yes," just because you took a risk and put yourself out there.

Two, if you ask a girl out and she says, "Yes" even though she is not ultimately interested, then she is leading you on.

Three, you are a "Good Christian Man" but every girl you ask out says, "No," meaning that there is something wrong with them, not you. You are a victim of feminism, shallow female whims, or unfair discrimination.

Four, if a girl says "No" before the first date or after five dates, you deserve a full, complete, and honest explanation as to why.

Five, women don't actually know what they want. They read romance novels and "Fifty Shades of Grey" and then complain that they don't want to be raped, beaten, sexually harassed, or coerced into sex. What gives?

One and two are obviously contradictory, but I have heard both. Trying to control whether or not someone says "Yes" or "No" to a date is contrary to the idea of consent--and trying to control a person's motivations in general feels fishy.

For three and four, being rejected sucks, obviously. But believing that someone else is "wrong" for rejecting you or that the the entire female population is delusional because they are not romantically interested in you is also contrary to the idea of consent--particularly to the idea that a woman should be able to choose to date or not date someone for any reason. Yes, any reason, even one you think is shallow or stupid.

Also contrary to consent is manipulating a person into unwanted contact of any kind.

For five--well, perhaps that is the subject of another blog post, but it boggles the mind that women are still not allowed to be complex or contradictory beings with a freedom of choice and personal autonomy that transcends one particular sexual fantasy or choice of reading material. "Women don't know what they want" seems highly correlated with the myth of persistence--"Women don't know what they want" but "I (a man) know what they should want." Gross.

In conclusion, if a guy will not take "No" for an answer he is, in my opinion, undateable.

Up next in the Dented Cans series, a post on entitlement.

Undateable: Why Single Christian Guys Are All Dented Cans - The Coward

Aristotle on bravery in "Nicomachean Ethics," from a translation by Terence Irwin

Welcome to my series on dented cans AKA single Christian guys who are undateable (to me!). 

After tackling the fluffy, soft as a guinea pig's butt cheeks topic of misogyny, we are now moving onto a much less potentially inflammatory topic: cowardice. 

[I swear, I am literally drawing these topics out of a jar. Swear to Blog.]

Now, you may see "coward" and "cowardice" and think, "I know where she's going with this!" And I bet you two pounds of canned beets that you're wrong (I hate beets. Hate 'em). 

You see, I too am familiar with the diatribes, written and otherwise, urging Christian dudes to just step up to the complementarian gender roles plate and ask a girl out already. I mean c'mon! How hard can it be? Think of all those lovely, eligible, extremely single Christian girls who are not too busy writing wistful letters to their future husbands to say "Yes" to dinner and a PG movie with you (and who if you play your cards right, might even agree to marry you after the third date!).  

This is not that blog. If you want to read (or hear) about how Christian men should stop being such [women?] already and just ask a girl out, you can go here, here, or here. And good dating to you, sir or madam.

The truth is, I'm as ambivalent about this topic as a single Christian woman could possibly be. I feel like the "Be a man and ask her out" and "Be a woman and wait for him to make the first move" setup smells awfully like the traditional gender roles that have traditionally kept women in a one-down position of power in adult relationships (such as those between a boyfriend and girlfriend or husband and wife). 

Just speaking personally, if my church wants to reinforce these gender roles--you know, the ones where men get the final say on all decisions, men lead and women follow, men love and women submit, etc.--then I also want a "real man" who will carry me 20 miles in 5 feet of snow so that I don't get my dainty feet wet, who will bring home the bison while I sit at home sipping tea and refining my embroidery skills, and who has the physique of Chris Hemsworth and goes shirtless at all times. Just saying. 

So, no. This is not a blog about how Christian guys are cowards for not asking girls out. I really can't speak for any one guy's motivation for not asking any one girl out. The closest I can get is that he doesn't want to. The whys beyond that are beyond me and my personal scope of knowledge. However, if someone wanted to write a blog about this, I would support him or her at least 101%. 

And now to get back to my subject: Cowardice. Merriam Webster unhelpfully defines cowardice as "the absence of courage." I have a different definition, which I will expound here, at length (you lucky readers, you).

I define cowardice as deliberately hurting, humiliating, abusing, harming, putting down, or bullying someone from a position of power, privilege, or advantage (usually because you can and because it makes you feel good, (read, more powerful)). 

A story: 

I was working in a small business packing and shipping books for a living. I had long thought that the office manager had a crush on me (it wasn't reciprocal). 

So one day we were particularly busy, everyone was present, and I was packing and shipping the heck out of some books. The OM became irate and started yelling at me for overpacking the boxes. 

He took out some of the books that I had already packed and threw them (well, maybe he placed them) on my desk. 

He yelled at me in front of everyone: in front of my boss (his boss too) and in front of my coworkers. 

I was so angry. I confronted him the next day and told him I was not okay with what he did. He admitted to "being a huge jerk" and said he had actually been angry at another coworker who was not me.

This incident has always stuck with me for some reason. I think it's because when I thought back to the power dynamics of the situation, there was no one else in the room who would have been safe to yell at. He couldn't yell at our boss. He couldn't yell at my married female coworker or either of my male coworkers. 

I was it. 

The only way I can explain it is that liking me gave him some kind of carte blanche to vent his anger on me--

Or perhaps I was just the least powerful person in that room. 

I wish I could say that this was an isolated incident. That I've never before or since had a male boss/coworker/supervisor with romantic interest in me treat me with disrespect and anger because I rejected him. That I've never again had a man humiliate me, abuse me, condescend to me, or shame me under the guise of "just doing his job." 

I wish I could say I have never felt trapped in a job in which a man repeatedly violated my boundaries and made me feel profoundly unsafe. 

You see--here's what I don't get about abuse in our current culture: 

All the shame accrues to the victim: "Why didn't she leave him when he hit her?", "Why didn't you walk away?", "What were you thinking dating him in the first place?"

Why are we neglecting to call out the abusers and the bullies for the cowards that they are? I see nothing as more cowardly than punching out a woman who is half your size or using your position of power as a white, male, conservative blogger to further shame rape victims into silence (I'm looking at you, Matt Walsh). 

I fail to understand why Ray Rice dares to show his face in public while Janay Rice fields questions about why she stayed.

Somehow the definition of "being a man" still includes dominating women and treating them as objects to be controlled. Slap her around and you're a "man," not a coward.

After the incident above, I left that job soon after. I was afraid. I didn't want to become OM's emotional punching bag merely because he had a romantic interest in me. I felt like the most likely target, and I had no way to predict that there would be no future incidents--what if he had a really bad day? What if the mice ate all the books or I packed books into boxes in a way that just didn't suit him or the sound of me hitting the "s" key repeatedly started jangling his nerves? These things are impossible to predict. 

This is what I'm having trouble wrapping my head around. That abusers abuse because they can, because they want to, and because it makes them feel good.

He yelled at me because he could.

[Little to no risk to himself: If he yelled at the boss, he would risk getting fired. If he yelled at a male coworker, he might risk getting punched.]

He yelled at me because he wanted to.

[Anger feels bad.]

He yelled at me because it made him feel better.

[Letting anger out feels good.]

In the nearer past, a man viciously attacked and shamed me at work. I'm still traumatized by what happened. 

But here's the thing: 

He used what power he had to punish me, to put me down, to degrade me and "put me in my place" and it made him feel good. If not that, I'm sure it made him feel better--more empowered, more in control.

I also knew, based on past experience (I'd been to this rodeo before), that this was part of a pattern of abuse: His actions signaled to me that this could and probably would happen again: anytime he felt disempowered, received a nasty letter from the IRS, or felt angry about something else going on in his life--

It wouldn't matter. How I did my job wouldn't matter. What I said or did wouldn't matter. If he wanted to take out his anger out on me, he would find a reason.

Imagine that being your everyday, working reality: stretches of rainbows! and sunshine! punctuated only by abuse for no other reason than he "felt like it."

A coward will not confront his boss about injustice or mistreatment, but he will take it out on someone weaker than he is. In fact, he feels justified in doing so and often feels like a victim himself.

That's the problem with cowards. They are too smart to attack someone who has more power than they do, because they know they will suffer the consequences. They don't even much care for engaging an equal. But someone who is "weaker"? Perfect. 

For whatever reason, cowardly men also seem to feel perfectly justified taking out their anger on women who have romantically rejected them. Often, they take on the mantle of "victim" (of society, women, the government, their boss) to justify their behavior and deny their own power and culpability:

"I wouldn't be such an asshole if a woman hadn't broken my heart."
"I was a nice guy until I got rejected for the 20th time."

So, that leads to the question, how do you deal with a coward? 

Directly. To his face. Tell him in no uncertain terms that his behavior is unacceptable.

There's a great book called Verbal Judo about conflict and communication. In it, he talks about three kinds of people: nice people, difficult people, and wimps. You can guess who the cowards are. He recommends calling wimps out in public or confronting them in private (not recommended unless you are in a position of authority). 

Faced with real power, a coward will back down 100% of the time. It's that cliche you see in movies: the underdog can't take it anymore and fights back, leaving the bully a blubbering mess. 

There's some truth to that.  

This is not about playing nice, conflict resolution between equals, or fighting fair. Cowards never fight fair, so watch your back and enlist the help of an older brother or sister if necessary. Here are some possible responses:

"I will not tolerate being spoken to like that."

"Stop it."

"Back off."

Make yourself look as big and threatening as possible. Pretend you're at Yosemite and he is a brown bear. Show that you will not be intimidated and he will scuttle away with his tail between his legs.

Remember, he is not looking for an equal fight. He only abuses those he perceives to be weaker or more vulnerable than he is and will probably be shocked if you actually fight back.

Or you could just punch him in the face (I take no legal responsibility if you decide to take this route but I'll probably be cheering for you from the sidelines).

I jest. But in all seriousness, watch out for the coward. I had a lot of difficulty processing what happened to me until I started looking at it from the lens of power. To you, it might be a conflict between equals, but to him, it's all about making you feel small by any means available (shame, condescension, repeating negative things other people have said about you, attacking your character and personality, blaming you for everything, etc.). You become an object of uncontrolled hatred and rage.

The crux of what makes Christian guys undateable is that their actions often indicate that they don't view women as human beings worthy of equal respect.

Cowards don't respond to rejection very well (how would you feel if some inferior object rejected you?). And neither do some Christian guys. More on that later.

The glass jar has yet to speak on what I'll be writing about next. Till then.

Next: The Myth of Persistence

Undateable: Why Single Christian Guys Are All Dented Cans - Introduction

I love the miscellaneous sale section at Ralphs. Tucked between the dairy section and the packaged meats you can find nine dollar bottles of wine, congealed donuts, leftover Halloween decorations, six-day-old apple pies, Duck Dynasty costume castoffs, cartons of pedialyte, bruised apples, liver-spotted bananas, and Barbie bandaids.

Way, way in the back, hidden behind a few dubious boxes of laxative tea and 100 count bottles of aspirin, it sits.

Our friend, the dented can.

Back when I worked full-time at a book warehouse, I used to read a lot of books (more like skim, but who's judging). One of those books was a chick lit novel called The Big Love written by Sarah Dunn.

The twist in this particular novel is that the heroine was a lapsed evangelical Christian. And there was this one passage that stuck out to me, which I've excerpted at length below, that made me go Yes Yes I SAID YES:

Photo by labullets.blogspot.com

I should have known about Gil, of course. I should have known the way you know about a dented can. But this is the thing: everyone has been warned about dented cans, but surely not every dented can is bad, or they wouldn’t be allowed to sell them, right? Someone’s buying those dented cans. Someone’s taking them home and opening them up and examining the contents and then making a bet about whether or not the stuff inside is safe to eat. And let me tell you, when you’re twenty-five, and a virgin, and you refuse to date anybody but a Christian—and not just any Christian but a certain kind of Christian—your options are all dented cans. When Gil and I finally broke up, I took another look around the church basement, and I had the closest thing I’ve ever had to an actual vision. There sat Brian Berryman. Single. Thirty-two. An attorney. Crown prince of the church basement. So morally upright he didn’t believe in dating; he believed in praying. He’d been praying for a wife since he was sixteen. He’d drawn up a list of all the qualities he wanted her to possess, a list which he was continually revising, and then praying about, and then revising some more, and then informally circulating among the single women at the church. A woman of pure heart, the list would go. A gentle and quiet spirit. A submissive nature. Is this what you want in a husband? I heard a voice saying. Well, not an actual voice, but it was as clear as day. I realized that if I kept searching for husbands in church basements I was going to end up with a seriously dented can. [from The Big Love by Sarah Dunn, emphasis mine]

"So, what, Ms. Blogger, are you saying that all single Christian men are dented cans?"

Yes. Hell, I've dated a few of them.

No, but it sure feels like it sometimes, as if I'm walking by the sale section, scoping out the goods and thinking, "Oh please, Lord. Not that one."

When it comes to dating within Christian evangelical culture, it often feels as if you're screwed if you do, and screwed if you don't (or not screwed either way, now that I think about it).

That's the honesty part of this post--the hopelessness part. But this series (Yes! A series!) is not about hopelessness--it's about those qualities in single Christian guys that make them undateable.

I'm well aware that we are all dented cans. But perhaps a distinction can be made between the can of diced tomatoes sporting a few delightful and adorable indentations from being dropped on its head a few times and the can of sliced yellow peaches in a light syrup that gives you a fatal case of botulism.

Join us next time for a lighthearted take on:

Undateable: Why Single Christian Guys Are All Dented Cans - The Misogynist
Undateable: Why Single Christian Guys Are All Dented Cans - The Coward
Undateable: Why Single Christian Guys Are All Dented Cans - The Racist
Undateable: Why Single Christian Guys Are All Dented Cans - The Myth of Persistence 
Undateable: Why Single Christian Guys Are All Dented Cans - Entitlement