DISCLAIMER: Adult post for people ages 18 and over. Please do not read if you are under 18 years old or are sensitive to sexual content.
As a self-imposed rule, I refrain from writing about sex. Sometimes I insinuate, but I have never written overt descriptions of human sexuality for this blog. I do not want this blog to cross that line of being graphic. However, this post is about rape.
Many people still confuse rape with sex, despite the ground-breaking findings of sociologist Dr. Susan Brown which proved that rape is about domination. Rapists violate victims because they want to dominate them, to feel powerful, and to bully. Rape is never simply about seeking an orgasm.
In 2013, my narcissist NPD boyfriend, *David, reported me to the police for rape. The police had to interview me by phone to determine if there were any truth to his allegation. The police decided that no further action would be taken. There were never any charges made against me or David, and the matter was dropped. It was just one phone call.
A note about the word “Sex”:
A blowjob is sex. A handjob is sex. Cunilingus is sex. Penis between your thighs is sex. Penis between your breasts is sex. Penis in your anus is sex. Watching you masturbate is sex. Fingering your vagina is sex. Fingering his anus is sex. Fingering your anus is sex. Helping someone cum is sex. Dirty texting can be excellent foreplay, but I wouldn’t call it sex. Taking a shower together is sex. Mouthing someone’s naked body is sex. Etcetera.
I mention this because rape should be taken seriously no matter what kind of sex it was.
This is my version of what happened: I went to David’s apartment. He invited me in. We fooled around. He asked me to stay the night. I did. The second day, we fooled around more. He asked me to stay the night. I did. The third day, we fooled around more. He asked me to stay the night. I did. (Sleep deprivation is one of a narcissist’s grooming tools.) On the fourth day, I said I had to go home and get more clothes. I rode the bus home and before I could even get there, David phoned me and asked me to come back. So I went home, quickly packed a bag, and returned to his apartment. After another 36 hours, I went home to do laundry and rest. Six days and five nights I stayed at David’s. Besides the frolicking, we watched movies and went out for meals. We went grocery shopping. We drank hot cocoa. He drew cartoons for me. I was so happy that he loved me again.
A few days later, I was on the telephone with an officer of the Toronto Police Department because David had reported that I raped him.
This is the point at which blogging becomes therapy for me. I am so uncomfortable writing that someone, anyone, reported me to the police for committing rape. David is a survivor of childhood sexual abuse, just like I am. I never forced or coerced him to do anything that he was uncomfortable with. I never touched him without his permission.
The police officer treated me so nicely. He said that he understood that David was talking crazy, but that it was his job to investigate the complaint. The officer then apologized to me. He had made the required phone call and that was the end of it.
I remember wondering if all accusations of rape were dismissed so quickly, but the circumstances didn’t corroborate David’s delusion. His accusations were shocking and bizarre. Mostly, I didn’t understand when the alleged attack supposedly took place. Was it on the first day? Or the second day? Maybe the fifth day?
Later, David told me that he had disassociated when we were intimate. How would I know that? I mean, I believe him that he disassociated, but does that make it rape? Why did he keep asking me to stay the night if he was disassociating? Why did he pretend that he was fine? I don’t understand at what point the bad stuff supposedly happened.
This is an important discussion to me.
If two consenting adults have sex and then one of the parties says they regret it, does the sex become rape? No.
What if two consenting adults have sex and then one of the parties feels guilty about it, does the sex become rape? No.
What if two consenting adults have sex and then one of the parties says they didn’t want it? For five days, they didn’t want it?
You know, intellectually, I understand that he is full of shit – but emotionally, I want the man I loved to stop calling me a rapist. It hurts me so much that the narcissist says that I raped him. He decided that I assaulted him and now probably nothing can ever change that idea in his mind. It is fixed. Rebbe Nachman would say that it is engraved. Worse than anything he did to me, worse than any betrayal, worse than trying to kill me… it hurts so much that a person somewhere in this world believes that I am a rapist, especially since it is someone who meant so much to me.
In this case, David was using a narcissist’s brainwashing technique called “Crazy-Making”. The narcissist got me to question reality and the facts until I started to wonder if maybe I did miss something. A healthy person cares about the feelings of others and the narcissist who was claiming abuse, well he was just so committed to his truth. Faced with his strong convictions, any normal person would start to second guess themselves. Narcissists, of course, do not. They choose a path of crazy and they stick to it until Death – which makes flexible people even more unsure of themselves. I did not rape David. But he says I did. Does that make it true? No, it doesn’t. He is still a liar and I have to let it go. I have to let it go because it is not my job to fix crazy people. I am not qualified and I am not in charge. His accusations will never make sense to me because he fabricated them out of his illness. It’s not for me to fix this. David figured out a way to hurt me so I would never forget it… and yet he believes he is the victim.
I have to remind myself that someone who loved me would not accuse me of rape. It just couldn’t happen. The narcissist is delusional and disassociating is not an excuse for what he did. He lives in a world where people are out to get him and he believes that he is constantly being abused, whether it’s by me or the bus driver or the lady at the food stamp office or the rabbi at the shul. He believes everybody is against him. And it’s not about sex. It’s about David feeling abused. He said to me, “People hurt me because I’m special. People oppress me because I am better than them. People rape me because I can take it. I am stronger and better and smarter. They prove it when they abuse me.” How would you like to live with that tape playing in your head?
But I refuse to be burdened by his insanity. It is his own handicap. This incident will never make sense to me. There will never be an explanation for why he did this. There will never be an apology. Either I let it go or it haunts me forever. Those are my options.
“Rape and The Narcissist.” is copyright © 2015 by 18mitzvot. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
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