We are never safe

“Goodnight, love you, thanks for not raping me in my sleep…” I said to my husband before falling asleep a few weeks ago.

I had just read him some of the shocking statistics that were reported in the CNN story about online “rape academies.”

How do I know I’m safe with my husband? The truth is, I don’t. I don’t think any of us can know for sure, but we can look for signs. Just like the red flags I was constantly on alert for when I was dating, we can read a lot from men by how they react to these kinds of stories.

Do they say, “I would never do that,” “I don’t know anyone who would do that,” or “not all men are like that.” Do they question the veracity of these reports? Do they question the victim in any way?

Questions are not permitted

My essay about the Pelicot family estrangement had over 12 thousand views — more than any other post by a mile.

It also had a lot of comments, most of which were considerate and thoughtful. And then there was one that ended with this:

I just find it incredible and logistically practically impossible.

Is it wrong to find this story totally astonishing ?

Obviously the many unsettling implications of all these men doing this are incredibly alarming.

But also it’s … so … hard to believe/understand how this could happen.

One of the most infuriating things about being a woman is listening to men who are ignorant to the injustice and abuse that is literally every single place you look. I dare another man to say “not all men” to a woman who is clinging to the last thread of her hope in humanity.

I find it unsettling that anyone would question the “logistics” of a man drugging and raping and inviting others to rape his wife repeatedly for years. It’s true; this crime is logistically mind-boggling. The fact that the logistics are hard is all the more terrifying, because even these kinds of complications do not act as a deterrent. In questioning the logistics, this person is implicitly questioning the victim herself and even whether the assailant is guilty of such a horrific crime. He’s not incredulously asking “how could this happen!?” He’s asking “did this even happen?”

So what are my signs of safety? For a start, I have never heard any version of these phrases from my husband’s lips. And it’s not because he knows better than to articulate similar thoughts. When I rave like a lunatic about the misogynistic world we live in, he agrees, listens and apologizes to me. When I woke on November 6, 2024, not yet knowing the outcome of the U.S. election, he hugged me and apologized. More importantly, I rave in the same way to his male friends. He doesn’t ask me to tone it down, and his friends respond as he does. No one my husband associates with would ever say “but not all men.” No one ever says “it was just a little joke, don’t be so sensitive.” No one speaks disrespectfully to their partner or about their partner. If my husband tolerated anyone in his circle that showed any sign of misogyny, that would be a red flag.

Proof is everywhere

My social bubble is relatively clean. I don’t personally see any evidence of husbands who rape their wives. But I don’t question that it happens. The evidence is all around us that men are superior to women, that they are more powerful, that they matter more, that women should be subservient. Anyone who affords the men in their lives a belief in their superiority should not be surprised when abuse follows. Anyone who wonders how Dominique Pelicot had the wherewithal to figure out the logistics of drugging his wife so that he and others could rape her without her knowledge need only to read any scrap of news.

From Columbus Dispatch report on murder of Monique and Spencer Tepe.

There are reports every single day about a man killing his domestic partner. Monique Tepe and her husband were murdered by her ex-husband nine years after their divorce. Monique told friends and family that he had been abusive and even threatened her after the divorce. Imagine holding a grudge, insisting on possession of another person, for nine years after the relationship ends. It is terrifying, because most of us have at least one past partner we’re grateful to have escaped — but can we ever really escape a man who believes he should have control over us?

The CNN report is further proof of this reality, which women didn’t need but I appreciate nonetheless. The question is, will it make a difference to men?

Commenters like the one above, with questions, have their answers. The Pelicot story is not isolated, and even before the CNN report, it wasn’t hard to see that it is not an anomaly. Managing the logistics of drugging and raping your wife is simple thanks to the advice that is readily available to (at least) hundreds of thousands of men visiting one website 82 million times in March alone (it was taken offline in May, and returned a week later). How many websites are there to find advice on literally anything else? Imagine how many more sites - and visitors - exist that are just like the one CNN found.

Women are not property

When these men made vows to protect their wives, they didn’t mean from themselves. If they believe they own their wives, then they think there is nothing they can’t do. Until 1993, so-called “marital rape” was not a crime in all 50 states, and even today, loopholes exist in certain states for rape of a spouse. The underlying belief here is that a married couple are obliged to have sex with each other. Considering most sexual assaults are committed by someone the woman knows, it is astounding that some states still treat rape of a spouse as different - and less severe - to a rape charge. The next logical step after ownership is dehumanization.

Ironically, the same people who believe women to be property akin to a Stepford Wife also pass judgement on women who “pick” abusive partners or remain in abusive relationships. Somehow, while being entirely subjugated, women are also supposed to hold all the power.

Even men who consider themselves more evolved might be quick to ask “why didn’t she leave him?” They agree the abusive man is in the wrong, but our cultural norms twist this into the abused woman’s responsibility to leave or avoid altogether (presumably through untold fortune-telling abilities).

And when those fortune-telling abilities, in the form of red flags or gut feelings, tell us to run, we’re told to offer the benefit of the doubt or else be branded a bitch. “Why not give him a chance?” my friend was admonished - by a male friend - about a guy she was reluctant to go out with again. There are a million life-or-death reasons why not.

My father told me recently about a time in his career as a police officer that he was afforded access to a variety of additional training programs. He signed up to many, most notably one on domestic violence. He and his colleagues were shown a video that depicted a domestic violence victim. Afterwards, the instructor asked, “How many of you think the woman was wrong to stay with that man?” Everyone raised their hands. By the end of the class, my dad said, all of the police officers understood the woman and millions of others are trapped in those relationships and need help, not judgement.

It’s imperative that men who believe themselves to be good continuously interrogate the norms we live by and adjust accordingly. When every man does this, then they can say it. Then they can say not all men.