So my friend came knocking on my door at 1am last night, frightened out of her wits and asking if she could stay the night because she’d made the terrible error of speaking with her male neighbour and trusting him not to try and sexually assault her when he was in her house. Even as she cried and threatened to call the police if he didn’t leave, he demanded to know why she’d invited him into her house in the first place, as if he’s some fucking vampire and she was in a horror novel.
Of course, because someone was hammering on my own door at 1am last night, I had first tried to hush my barking dog because I was initially afraid someone had come to hurt me.
I had to sit up with her and calm her down and explain, again and again, that it wasn’t her fault, she doesn’t owe him anything and that I won’t hold with victim-blaming. It breaks my heart that a well-educated psychologist still was shocked that she wasn’t being automatically blamed for what had happened.
When you men’s rights clowns rant about feminism going ‘too far’ and how we privileged western women need to shut the fuck up because we’re equal now and things are fine, please come visit me so I can punch you in the fucking face.