Sex with friends wife 2
"He just didn't stop"
For the past two weeks, millions of women have tweeted and posted under #MeToo either just "me too" or reported on their experiences with sexual assault. And every woman who admits that she is or has been affected by sexual assault reinforces the impression that is created: Sexual assault happens everywhere. They are commonplace, so commonplace that hardly anyone has complained about them. And there is always power at play. Because the flirtation ends where the abuse of power begins.
But it is not just potential employers or bosses who have power over women. It's not just theater directors and professors, doctors and film producers. Sometimes a situation in which the man believes he deserves something from the woman is enough. And in which the woman believes she owes something to the man. Then women sleep with men with whom they actually don't want to sleep at all. And men sleep with women who actually don't want to sleep with them at all.
SZ-Magazin employee Lena von Holt spoke to women who said no, but did not enforce it. Who were surprised at how far the men went anyway. And shocked at how unable they were to defend themselves. How much stronger the impulse not to want to cause trouble than that to protect yourself. And because these women did not have the courage to defend themselves against the men, because they did not defend their own limits louder and more consistently, they do not want to appear with their real names. Neither volume nor violence should be necessary to prevent men from crossing this limit.
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The moments the women talk about here are small and banal, but everyone knows them: the couch on which the woman sleeps is in his apartment. Or: he bought her a few drinks. Or: there is no condom. Or: There were just three of you, suddenly you are two, from then on it gets complicated.
The women say no. But if the men don't really hear the no, the women cave in, so deeply anchored is the feeling of guilt and obligation and also physical inferiority in them. Probably just as deep as men's sense of right and superiority.
So it is also the women who let the men take advantage of the situation. And those who are silent afterwards about what happened to them. Because they are ashamed. Or want to forget as quickly as possible. Without the silence of the women, the men would not be so powerful. And that's exactly why it's good when as many women as possible tell what happened to them. When as many women as possible break their silence.
We were traveling with a couple of people. Something had begun between P. and me. I went to see him later, and then he wanted to sleep with me. Because I didn't know him and had decided to take safe sex and contraception seriously, I asked for a condom. We were already undressed in his bed. He didn't have one. So I didn't want to sleep with him. His reaction was quite brisk, I immediately felt bad. I was afraid that he wouldn't want to have anything more to do with me. I felt stuffy, but still proud that I'd said no, and fell asleep next to him. At some point during the night I woke up from him sleeping with me. I was on my stomach, he must have climbed on top of me. I had clearly said no that evening, wasn't that enough? Still, it felt too drastic to defend myself physically. He wasn't brutal either. But very focused. Then somehow I thought, let him hold, it won't kill you if you let it go. You expect something from yourself without knowing what it will do to you. You always pay great attention to your physical health during sex, but your mental health is often neglected. That made me very insecure at the time. And I've lost respect for myself.
For me it had almost nothing to do with sex. I was mentally present, but just lay there with my face pressed into the pillow. There was no physical closeness between us, I was isolated with my thoughts. It was like someone had stolen my body. We didn't look at each other. Maybe that made it easier for him. If I had looked at him, I might have gotten angry too. I haven't told anyone about it. When my friends asked if I slept with him, I said yes and giggled along with them. In retrospect, I feel sick when I remember it because it was so abusive and disrespectful. He just took what he wanted. That he could enjoy sex even though he knew I didn't want to and obviously wasn't enjoying it made me sad.
I met someone in New Zealand through Tinder. It was already the second date and I went to see him. When I lay next to him in this bed, he, who was already small, looked even smaller. Suddenly I found him so unattractive that I didn't feel like sleeping with him anymore. But it was too late to back down now. I had gone home with him, he had paid me for drinks and the evening before that too. Now I couldn't say no anymore. He had worked towards this moment, and I had gone along with it so far, I didn't want to offend him and look like a spoilsport. If I had said no, he would have accepted it, but he would have been disappointed and frustrated. The reaction would have made me uncomfortable. That's why I let it go. Now I worry less about what other people think of me. I would probably never have seen him again, so I couldn't really care what he thinks of me. I think this self-confidence only comes later, when you get a little older. Back then I wanted to be cool and look relaxed.
It was on vacation in Croatia. In the house I went to with my parents every year. I was 23 that summer. I've known him for a long time, we always had something together, and that was nice too. He wanted to come over one afternoon. It was implicitly clear why. I didn't feel like it and canceled. I was about to take a nap, I was just lying down when I heard someone come into the house. The door was closed but not locked. I thought it was funny that he came in anyway. He started fiddling with me. I pretended to be asleep. I wanted to know how far he would go. And also thought he was going to lose interest. In fact, he pulled through the program. And I left him. I thought if I say now to leave me alone, it won't change anything. After all, I had been around often and gladly beforehand. So I found it difficult to back down at the moment. I wanted to avoid the argument and was afraid of having to justify myself to him. I didn't feel bad or taken advantage of, I found it rather bizarre. I didn't find sex anything special at the time. In retrospect, I don't regret it either, but I find it interesting how much humans are still animals. If a man has lust, you as a woman are in doubt the weaker one, as in the animal kingdom. And that is not just a physical power, but a superordinate one that is deep within us.
I was in South Africa for a semester abroad. He was my neighbor, a South African. We met by chance while partying and he had flirted with me all evening. At some point we took a taxi home because we had gone the same way. He went to see me, at first my roommate was still there. When she left, I knew: Now it's getting complicated. I wanted nothing to work except kissing, he was only 19. But how and where would I draw the line? He wanted to persuade me. Said age didn't matter to him. I tried to tell him I didn't want him anymore, over and over again. He just didn't stop. It cost me so much strength.
Sex is not a matter of negotiation, it shouldn't have to be discussed. Either you want to or you don't. I have a feeling men think they have to seduce us women. And that women flirt a bit, but secretly want more. For me it wasn't a seduction back then, I felt totally under pressure. I knew from the start that I didn't want that and should have made it through. But I didn't make it. It wasn't as if I took a liking to it in the meantime, either. Instead, I thought it doesn't hurt and maybe it's not that bad. But it didn't feel good. I don't want to assume that he doesn't care what a woman wants or doesn't want. Still, he was too insensitive. Wouldn't it be better to do without than to chat with the woman until she finally joins in? Most of all, I was annoyed with myself. At the time, I actually thought I was old enough to be able to express my point of view and assert myself. And then I fell over like that. I really blamed myself for that.
The guy was almost ten years older than me and always took me from home to Tübingen, where I was studying. He made no secret of the fact that he wanted something from me. But I made no secret of the fact that I didn't want anything from him. He played me music, it was good, sometimes we talked, which meant that above all he talked. There was nothing more. That went on for about a year and a half. Usually he dropped me off and drove on to Augsburg, where he worked. Once it got very late. He said I can stay the night with you, I can't go any further today. I wasn't too comfortable with it, but I could hardly say no. So we went to a pub, had a drink, and came to my room very late. I didn't have more space, a room, a mattress on the floor. It often happened that I had a visit from friends from home and slept with them in the same bed without anything happening. We all had no money for hotels and it was somehow a deal that nothing should be done. I thought it would be the same with us, meanwhile.
It was hardly dark when he touched me. Sweating. How did I get out of there? Talk? Turn me around To put me asleep I said, hey, please, that's stupid now, we'll destroy everything that's good between us. He said, oh well, that doesn't change anything. Don't be so shy. You've made me hot for so long, you don't want to be a spoilsport.
I cannot say why what happened then happened. I didn't want to, but I didn't fight back with my hands and feet, but fell into a kind of rigidity. I had often heard from the guys in my clique how they scolded spoilers who tried to be found by men, then backed down and left the poor men where they were. I've always been on my friends' side in some way. But now I was in the situation myself. It felt a little different then.
From then on I took the train to Tübingen. I could barely look the guy in the eye when I met him. And not to myself for a while either. It was all a long time ago. Something like that wouldn't happen to me today. Because I understood that spoilers were invented by men.
We had known each other for a number of years. Then we kissed once at a party, but then he had a girlfriend and I had a boyfriend. So we stayed friends, platonic, so to speak. Last year he visited me in Paris. In the bar, in the park, he kept trying to convince me to have sex. He asked, specifically, I said no every time. It stayed that way.
A few weeks later I wanted to visit him in Holland and made it clear beforehand that I would sleep on the couch. I should have known that we had different expectations for the weekend. But I trusted him and went anyway. We smoked pot the first evening. I could hardly speak or move, I was completely exhausted. Then he started having sex again. Again I said no. At some point he said, let's at least take off our pajamas, it's so warm. I didn't want to and said that too, but he didn't give up, and at some point the point was reached where my strength completely ran out of me. I gave in. I just wanted him to be quiet for a while.
It sucks to wake up the next morning and remember. To know that it really happened. He got up before me because he had to go to work, and I thought about it all morning. Tried to sort out what happened for me. When he came back he didn't apologize but said that to him it felt like it didn't happen, like it was all just a dream. In the end, what I resent him a lot more than this one night is how he behaved afterwards. He broke off contact. It felt like I was just one item on his to-do list that he could now tick off. For a while I played down what had happened. I didn't realize how badly I didn't want it. The more time goes by, the more I think it felt crappy. Because he took advantage of the situation. Smoking weed, on the one hand. But it also played a role that I visited him. I could hardly say no and send him to his room. Getting up and running away was also difficult, I was alone in Holland, he lived in some deserted small town, it was the middle of the night, I didn't know anyone but him, couldn't speak the language, where should I have gone?
Photo: esthermm /fotolia.de
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