Ask Dr. Nerdlove

DEAR DR. NERDLOVE: I think this will be a lot lighter than a lot of letters that you receive, and it’s perhaps a little funny, but it’s a problem none the less, and I’m a little worried that there’s some problematic luggage in my brain that I’d like to unpack and then throw on a bonfire.

Basically, I’m a cis straightish guy, but on a night out with friends recently one of them let slip that there’s a bit of a joke that I dress like a stereotypical lesbian.

I actually found the observation pretty funny, know that it wouldn’t have come from a place of cruelty and I don’t entirely disagree with it. They image searched “stereotypical lesbian outfit” and well, I did a double-take on a couple of pictures thinking they were me. I’ve always thought of my typical dress sense as kind of grunge-meets-redneck and no other connotations ever really struck me. I’m socially adroit enough to be capable of dressing for the occasion, but let’s say a it’s a night where I go for a beer or two and watch some live music, then yeah, I’ll likely be wearing a flannel shirt, jeans, wallet chain and trucker cap. Coupled with my piercings and haircut, which are pretty androgynously coded, I get it. I play a sport that is often associated with queer women and my Spotify list isn’t short on the likes of Sleater-Kinney or Bikini Kill in the context of me enjoying alternative-rock more generally. It’s not like Nirvana and Fugazi don’t feature heavily too. I’ve read The Bell Jar, but only because good literature is good literature. I’ve read Hemmingway too.

I’d like to point out at this juncture that stereotypes are just that: stereotypes, but they do usually have a basis in patterns. You can’t always tell something about someone just by how they dress, but I guess some people do try and communicate things with their clothes.

When the hangover faded, a couple of questions stuck with me.

The first is: Am I giving off a weird vibe? I don’t think so, I have plenty of women as friends, some of whom have laughed too and agreed when I’ve mentioned this, as does my partner. But it does worry me that I come across as one of those dudes who tries to position himself as “one of the good ones”. I don’t think anything else in my behaviour suggests that, but it worries me I might be perceived that way just for trying to live in a way I enjoy. Additionally, if not that, am I negating or diluting my own appeal? I’m happily with someone, and they say they like how I dress, but I do wonder about how I’m perceived.

The second is more complex. I actually kind of do feel like I’m performing in a sort of drag socially. I was a misfit as a teenager and I was really uncomfortable with the laddish culture (I’m from the UK, so think football, Oasis and boorish jokes) that surrounded me. Groups of guys make me nervous. So, dressing like I do feels like I’m sort of playing the part of a guy rather than actually being one. I have plenty of male friends too, but do find it hard to connect with guys who are stereotypically masculine in their attitudes and interests. I don’t think I feel my gender strongly, but that’s perhaps a luxury of being secure in it?

What do I do, Doc? Do I burn my and-shirts and sneakers and dress in a Soccer shirt and chinos when I dress casually? Cut my hair and only listen to Metallica? I kid, but I’m not sure what my question is entirely, just that I’m kind of in a bit of a spin.

Yours,

Jewel Has Some Great Stuff, Actually

DEAR JEWEL HAS SOME GREAT STUFF, ACTUALLY: I think it says something about my age that everything you describe about how you dress sounds way more like you’re from the mid-90s or doing upcountry degen cosplay, rather than dressing like a stereotypical lesbian. Throw in a beat-to-s--t pickup and a pack of American Spirits and a bigmouth of Mickey’s and you’d be most of the way there.

(Granted, the overlap in this particular Venn Diagram is very, very large.)

More to the point though: I think you’re seriously overthinking what was an off-hand and not terribly serious comment by a friend, and I think you’re also mistaking the signifiers that come with your style. The look you describe is “stereotypical” for lesbians because it’s a very working class look, which tends to code as a very butch look. The whole idea behind “stereotypical lesbian” is predicated on the idea that lesbians eschew a lot of femme presentation – short hair, more masculine style of dress and behavior, no make-up and so on. That is: the stereotype for “lesbian” that you’re working from are about women who dress and look more like men than like women. So, to the extent that your presentation is sending off a weird vibe, it’s only a weird vibe in that you’re seeing what’s ostensibly male-coded clothing and style being reflected back at you.

(I’d also point out that what you’re describing as ‘androgynously coded’ IS masculine; a significant of what we tend to consider ‘androgynous’ is usually “male, but skinny/soft”. Entire PhD dissertations can and have been written about this…)

I rather strongly doubt that anyone who looks at you thinks that you’re trying to position yourself as “one of the good ones”, so much as thinking that maybe you watched one too many documentaries about the Seattle grunge scene or that you’re the product of being at the tail end of the 30-year nostalgia cycle. Is it weird? Enh, I’ve seen far weirder on an average Tuesday. Nothing about your look would get you more than a passing glance or make you stand out at any of the local dive bars.

Now you are correct in that clothes are an outward expression of ourselves. The clothes we choose are a way of communicating who we are to the people around us. It often gives a shorthand as to who we are as people and what we’re about. We wear our affiliations and values on our shirtsleeves – literally. Someone who’s wearing an Austin FC or Manchester United shirt is signaling tribal affiliation, as much as someone wearing designer labels. Even when someone doesn’t put much thought into their style and presentation, that still conveys meaning and message – in this case, that they don’t care that much about their presentation. It’s part of why “dressed like a tornado hit their closet” has long been short-hand for absent-minded genius/creative type; presumably they have more pressing matters to focus on than whether their belt goes with their shoes, their shirt and trousers are freshly pressed and so on. So the way you dress does send a message about you, and it’s worth asking if that message matches with who you are as a person.

But it’s the ‘who you are as a person’ part that’s way more important. You touch on something in your letter that I don’t think you realize: a lot of traditional ideas about gender is just performance. Being a cis man doesn’t mean that you were born with a love of big boobs and crude jokes any more than being a cis woman means they were born with an inherent love of the color pink (which, incidentally, used to be considered a masculine color) and cosmetics. Sometimes we like those things and they line up with our gender, but sometimes we like those things despite or regardless how they line up with our gender. Some of it may be nature, but a hell of a lot more of it is nurture, and the “nature” aspect has more to do with personality than chromosomal pairings. Some of it can be shaped, even encouraged by societal expectations and pressure, but again: that’s not a sign of anything inherent to your gender or hormones.

When you rattle off all the ways you’re “less masculine” or giving “androgynous” vibes, you’re rattling off things that are gendered by association, but aren’t inherently gendered in and of themselves. Bikini Kill and Sleater-Kinney may appeal more strongly to a particular demographic, but that doesn’t mean that it’s exclusively for women, any more than Oasis is exclusively for men. Liking football and beer is associated with masculinity, but plenty of women, even very feminine women love both. Your gender isn’t defined by your Spotify playlist any more than it’s defined by your haircut, the books you read or the clothes you wear – no matter how many conservatives scream about it. Your gender is defined by you – not what’s in your pants or in your genes but by what’s in your head; everything else comes from that.

Do you like things that are more female-coded? Ok… that just makes you someone who likes those things. There’s no spreadsheet keeping track of your man-points and woman-points. There’s no tipping point where, if you cross beyond 50% of masculine or feminine coded interests, you’ve reduced your inherent gender identity. It’s just what speaks to you.

You have a hard time connecting with “stereotypically” or “traditionally” masculine men, but is that because you’re not as manly, or because you simply don’t have much in common with them? There’s a difference between “I don’t connect with these people because I’m not ‘enough’ of a man” and “I don’t connect with these people because I’m not into what they’re into and I find the way they behave to be off-putting”. Not liking loud, aggressive or rambunctious behavior doesn’t mean you’re not manly enough any more than being quiet, empathetic or submissive makes you a woman. It’s just who you are.  

Are you a man? Then whatever you do is “man s--t”. If I take up knitting, that makes knitting manly. When my female friends pick up a hammer and a drill to put up some shelves, that’s feminine, because it’s a woman doing it. Don’t like lad mags and boner-jam movies? Ok… but you don’t need to be a man to like those any more than being a man makes you like them. Some folks dig ‘em, some folks think they’re stupid; the amount of influence it has on your inherent gender is f--k-all.

You ask what to do, but honestly, if you’re happy with who you are, there’s nothing to do. There’s nothing wrong with you and there’s nothing that needs to change. Do the things you mention limit your appeal? Sure… to a certain type of person. But that’s going to be true of anyone; there’s no such thing as universal appeal. Some people are drawn to more “traditional” ideas of masculinity and others are put off by it. Lots of people are drawn to softer dudes, more erudite or refined or restrained dudes and just as many are into guys who are confident enough in their masculinity to embrace their softer and more feminine side.

(And that’s before we even get into the debate of gender being a spectrum rather than a binary.)

You are who you are. If you like who you are? Then rock on, and people who don’t like it or think you’re doing “manhood” wrong can f--k off into the sun.

Good luck.

Please send your questions to Dr. NerdLove at his website (www.doctornerdlove.com/contact); or to his email, doc@doctornerdlove.com

Doctor’s Note: today’s column involves the discussion of sexual assault and rape, including descriptions of the act. Please read at your own discretion. 

DEAR DR. NERDLOVE: Hi. I’ve been spiraling over an event that occurred two months ago and need some help. Here’s some background:��Two months ago, I went on a trip to visit family abroad. My roommate happened to be going there at the same time, so we decided to go clubbing together one night. This was our first time being there at drinking age, so we had never done this and were super excited.��I am in a committed relationship of (almost) 1 year. My boyfriend knew about these plans and was totally cool with it. We both go out a fair amount as college students, often with just friends, and this is a normal part of the relationship. I’ve never ended up in a bad situation after drinking, so I guess I didn’t anticipate that it could happen this time.��That night, I went out in a group that included my roommate (who also has a boyfriend), my little brother, and our family friend, who is a few years older and a local, so he was our “guide.” I thought this was just about the safest group I could be in. We obviously had no intention of going home with guys/girls, just meeting people and having fun.��The original plan was to get dinner, then go to karaoke, and end at a specific club we had picked out. Day of, however, the plans changed because my brother and family friend had just had dinner with our families, so we skipped that and headed straight to a club near them. It was early, like 8pm, so it was pretty dead. Our group just hung around a table, got drinks, and talked. After a few drinks, some other people approached us to chat.��One of these groups was four guys, all fellow US college students, so we bonded over that and chatted in this big group. They were a year younger than me, my brother’s age, so they seemed super harmless and nice. They told us there was a better bar across the street, so we headed there. My roommate and I went with them, and told my brother and family friend to meet us there, since they were busy talking to other people. I don’t think I mentioned that I had a boyfriend, mostly because they weren’t being forward or anything, but I also didn’t think about it too much. Obviously, I regret this a ton now.��Before the second bar, we went to a gas station for cheaper drinks. One of the guys bought a bottle of some kind of liquor and we passed it around in a circle, taking sips. My roommate and I sort of waved to motion that we were done, and I remember he insisted that we finish it. It didn’t seem ill-intentioned, just a funny moment.��We went to the second bar where we chatted and had some more drinks. My roommate and I went to the bathroom at one point and gossiped about how the guys were cute and fun. This detail makes me sick, in hindsight, but again, it seemed harmless then. When we got out of the bathroom, we met up with my brother and family friend again, and then lost them again somehow.��I don’t remember being flirty, necessarily. But, I think I did sort of enjoy the attention. Still, I felt that having a buddy with me was insurance, in a way, and that as long as I never ended up in a one-on-one situation with a guy, I was safe from any advances.��That same guy bought drinks for my roommate and I. Somehow, his friends disappeared. I don’t remember exactly where or when. This is where my memory starts to get fuzzy. The next 3 hours or so are a total blur. I remember certain moments, but I can’t remember the order or how I got from place to place. Eventually, I realized that my roommate was clearly not OK, stumbling and slurring. I took her outside for fresh air.��I sat with her outside of the gas station. The college guy went in to buy her water and sat her upright while I made her take sips. I thanked him a ton, feeling super grateful that someone was helping me since I couldn’t do it myself. I don’t remember the exact conversation, but he told us that we could stop at his place to get sobered up before heading home. That seemed like a genuine and kind offer, so I accepted.��I don’t have any memory of it, but I sent my friend a picture of him carrying her on his back on the street. I guess I thought it would be a funny memory the next day. This makes me feel like he was probably relatively sober, but I don’t totally know.��I don’t remember getting into the taxi or where we went. I only have one single memory from here: we kissed. I turned to talk to him and he kissed me. I think I was caught off guard, and I either let it happen for a second or even sort of accepted the kiss/kissed back. I genuinely cannot recall. I was in the middle of the backseat, with him to my left and my roommate slumped on my shoulder to my right. Then, it’s a blur again until we’re in the elevator of his apartment.��The next thing I know, I’m crouched over my friend who is lying on a futon on the floor. I also realized then that I had lost my phone, so between feeling like I couldn’t get home, I didn’t really know where I was, my friend was in danger, and I couldn’t contact my brother and family friend, I was in a total panic by this point.��After some time of trying to wake her up and get her phone password so I could call someone, I felt him grab me by the arm and lead me into the next room, and sit me on a bed. Maybe he kissed me here, I don’t know. He took his clothes off and then I think told me to, or maybe started doing it for me. I vaguely remember taking my shirt off.��Then, I was lying on the bed, naked, and he crawled on top. I think I sort of came out of my daze here and realized how wrong this was. I felt tense and kind of frozen. He was about to start and I said “wait, wait” and he said “it’s fine, it’s fine.” I noticed he wasn’t planning on using protection, so I specifically said no to that. He said he didn’t have a condom, and that it was fine. I was sort of dreading what was about to happen, but didn’t push or say no again, and it started.��The next memory I have, I was on my hands and knees. He must have told me to flip over, and I obeyed. I cannot understand why I did that. I remember he was rough and I said “ow” a couple times, which he sort of laughed off and maybe said “my bad” or something. I feel like since I did as he said, he could have thought I was into it.��Then, he stopped again and asked me to “finish him off” with oral. I think I maybe started for a second, then said “no, I don’t want to” and he said “come on, just do it” and I said “no” and he said “please just do it” or something along those lines. This is when I started crying, and said “I’m scared for my friend, I want to go home.” and that made him stop.��The weird detail here is that after he sighed and said “fine,” he apologized and tried to hug me. I saw his arms coming my way and stuck out my hands and stopped them, and he assured me he was just trying to hug me. I guess I thought he would pin me down? I don’t know exactly.��I quickly put my clothes back on and ran back to my friend’s side, and he followed. This time, I managed to get her phone password. I texted my brother, who said he and the friend had gone home because they thought we did. I also texted my boyfriend, saying something about how I was scared for my friend and about getting home and losing my phone and being scared. The fact that I didn’t tell him about what just happened felt really dishonest.��I sort of remember thinking we would wait until my friend woke up and could at least walk, but I think he kind of told us to get going. He must’ve carried her downstairs and called a taxi. The next thing I know, I’m in the backseat with my friend. She’s slumped over and starts throwing up. I remember sitting there in complete shock. I think the first feelings were confusion, guilt, fear, and regret. I sobered up a bit during the ride home, and I felt my heart sinking, realizing that my relationship might be over.��I got home, got her in bed, threw up, and fell asleep. I remember waking up and all the memories flooded in. I felt like I had cheated, but then when I thought about the events, I realized this may have been nonconsensual. But the details about the initial kiss which I think I participated in, and all the parts where I followed his lead and complied, make me sick. I went into the night purely to hang out with my friends, and I feel like everything that possibly could have gone wrong, did.��I told my boyfriend what happened the first chance I had in person when I got home. I told him I was taken advantage of the night I went out, and that I feel like I played a role in it and felt super guilty. He asked me if there was any small part of me that wanted this, to which I said no. He also asked me if I kissed him back, which I said no to. This is the sticky part. I remember the initial kiss, but I honestly cannot tell if I was just sort of allowing the kiss to happen, or if I kissed back at all. I genuinely don’t know, but I said no here and that feels dishonest and I regret it, but I also feel like going back on my word would make him think the whole thing was consensual. The second time I brought up how I was distressed over this, he was more than understanding, reassuring me that I didn’t ask for it and it was done to me. It made me feel comforted, but I feel even worse about that kissing detail now.��I also started seeing a counselor through my university. There are some days where I feel like I was taken advantage of, and feel so gross about it. But, more often than not, I think about all the stupid decisions I made that put me in the position, and the moments of participation.��I feel like even though I didn’t seek it out or initiate anything, I was acting out of line as a girlfriend. It makes me sick because I’ve always thought of myself as a loyal partner and a good person and this is making me question everything. Like I said, I’ve been out at college a fair amount, and have never had a problem turning down guys who ask for my number. So, why was I so slow to react? Why did I let it go that far before putting my foot down?��Even though I know parts of this are definitely coercive, I feel wrong labeling it as rape when I wasn’t drugged and I didn’t physically fight back. If I was single, I could accept some gray area, but in a relationship, I feel like any gray area is cheating.��Since this happened, I’ve been spiraling, having flashbacks, waking up with my heart pounding, and even have lost my appetite. I don’t know if this is from unfair self-blame, or because I feel like I cheated and I need to come clean about it.��It’s been two months and the anxiety and guilt haven’t subsided. What should I do?

Brain Running In Circles

DEAR BRAIN RUNNING IN CIRCLES: God I hate getting these questions. Not because of anything you did, BRIC, but because so many people have written in with similar stories and ask the same question: did they cheat or was something done to them, and what I hate is that there shouldn’t be ANY F--KING QUESTION about who’s at fault here. 

So let me skip straight to the end: you were raped. You were in no position to consent and your “new friend” was, at best, taking advantage of the fact that you were incredibly drunk. This was not your fault, you didn’t cheat and you’re not at fault for what other people did to you. I want you to tattoo this backwards on your forehead so you see it in the mirror when you wake up in the morning. Shave your head if you need the room. This was not your fault. You were raped. You are not to blame here.

OK? I’m going to reiterate this a lot during the letter because I want you to really take this to heart.  This was not your fault.

Now let’s go through your letter and break down precisely how all of this went down and why this wasn’t you cheating on your boyfriend. 

The start of it all – hitting the club a bit early and running into fellow Americans is pretty normal tourists-out-for-a-good-time sort of stuff. The first thing you focus on – that you didn’t mention your boyfriend – isn’t really an issue.  It just wasn’t relevant at that point; you’re just hanging with some new folks. The fact that you’re in a relationship doesn’t change your identity; it’s not something that you need to announce when you met people. It becomes relevant if, say, a stranger is getting flirty and you want to make it clear that flirting is all there’s going to be, or if you want to give them the complete wave-off, but not bringing it up isn’t some sort of relationship misconduct or whatever.

More importantly, your not mentioning that you have a boyfriend was not going to be a magic spell or protection against bad intentions.  A guy who’s going to take advantage of someone who’s had too much to drink isn’t going to be stopped by a theoretical boyfriend who isn’t actually there. And even if this f--khead would never have touched you if he knew you had a boyfriend, his (supposedly) thinking you were single doesn’t make what he did ok. So you’re not bringing up your boyfriend isn’t proof that you somehow are responsible for this. 

The first time my Spidey-sense went off in all of this is when you all stopped at the gas station. It’s the moment when you and your roommate tried to take a pass on the bottle being shared around and one of the guys makes a fuss about your finishing it. In and of itself, this isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but when guys start getting pushy about making sure you keep drinking when you’re starting to say “nah, I’m good” … it’s not necessarily a red flag, but it can be a pink one. That is: maybe it’s innocent, maybe not, there’s not enough evidence either way, so proceed with caution and see what they do next.

What isn’t a red flag – nor was it an issue on your end – was your talking about the guys in the bathroom at the second club. This was harmless behavior, and you shouldn’t feel bad about it. Even when you have a strict monogamous commitment, noting that the guys you met were fun and cute isn’t some sort of relationship crime. Enjoying their company and the fact that they’re being flirty with you is, likewise, neither some sort of offense against your relationship nor is it giving them the green light for what they would do later. You’re allowed to have friends outside your relationship. You’re allowed to have cute friends outside your relationship. You’re allowed to have cute friends who are of the gender that you sleep with, even when you’re in a relationship. You’re also allowed to enjoy it when other people are flirting with you and to appreciate the feeling of being desired by someone else. The only time this becomes some sort of violation of your commitment to your partner is when you act on that attraction in ways that aren’t permitted in your relationship.

(Though, as an aside: if you’re dating someone who’s going to have strong opinions about your having opposite sex friends or not talking to other guys when he’s not around… that’s an issue with the boyfriend, not what happened on your trip. But that’s a different topic entirely.)

Now, the closest thing I’m willing to say “this was a mistake” was the idea that being with your friend was going to be insurance against advances. In a completely different situation, where everyone is acting in good faith, everything is on the up and up and nobody is angling to do some heinous s--t later, flirting can and does happen, even a group setting. In fact, I’ve taught about how to meet and talk to people who are out with friends, and how to flirt with them without making things weird. But – and I can’t emphasize this enough – I’m only talking about someone flirting or making a move for a kiss or inviting the other person to take off if the vibe is there and mutual. The fact that you were with your roommate didn’t mean that guys weren’t going to flirt with you, or see if something could happen; it would just mean trying to work out any logistics and deciding whether things could happen that nightor to see if there would be another opportunity for another night.

Now, in terms of safety, you’re correct: in most cases, there’s going to be safety in numbers. While nothing is a guarantee, having a friend or friends with you means that you and your friends can keep an eye on each other in case one of you looks like maybe you’ve had too much to drink or someone’s getting shifty or out of pocket. You’ve both got someone who has your back or who can say “oh look at the time, we have to get back and shave the cat,” and give you the chance to dip out.

Unfortunately, things become significantly less safe if, say, some s--tty dudes keep plying the both of you with drinks or possibly even dose you with something.

Absent other evidence, what you describe next – the blurry hours and not being sure the order of events – sounds like you may have had too much to drink at this point. It’s certainly possible that someone slipped something in your drink, but it’s equally plausible that you weren’t paying strict attention to how many drinks you had at this point or how hard they were hitting you. This isn’t necessarily surprising; intoxication tends to creep up on folks and by the time you realize you’re feeling it, you’re probably a lot drunker than you realize in the moment.

(Another side note: if you – or anyone reading this – have ADHD, it’s worth noting that ADHD tends to make you more sensitive to alcohol’s effects and it can worsen some ADHD symptoms, especially if you have the inattentive type. If you have ADHD, make a point of being mindful of how much you drink; the odds are good that it’ll hit you a lot harder than you think.)   

The fact that the college student was helping your roommate, making sure she drank water and stayed upright is the only reason why I’m not assuming that you both got roofied. But that’s not evidence that he didn’t, and even if he had not, that doesn’t excuse what he did later. The more important part was that you and your roommate were both very drunk and were in no way able to give consent.

The moment that I think we can call the tipping point is when the guy took you back to his place. If the two of you had been less intoxicated, you would’ve been in a better position to say “thanks for the offer but we’ve got it,” and get a cab back to your hotel. If he wasn’t planning on getting “lucky” and he was genuinely concerned for your safety, he could have accompanied you to your hotel, poured you into the lobby and either had the cabby drive him back to his place or catch another ride. But he didn’t, and that choice of his is where s--t goes spectacularly wrong for you.

So, let’s talk about your reaction when he kissed you. I want to be very clear: your response is not an indication of anything on your part other than you were drunk and he kissed you unexpectedly. That’s it. You were in no way capable of giving consent and your judgement was seriously impaired. This is not something you would have done if you were sober and the fact that it came out of the clear blue sky means that you weren’t ready or waiting for it. I’m not surprised that you’re unsure precisely what your reaction was; it seems pretty clear to me that you and your friend were both really hammered. But just as importantly, accepting that someone was kissing you – without shoving him off or saying “woah back off” or whatever – does not mean that you were ok with it. It just means that you didn’t react.

This is going to be something important to keep in mind – both for what happens not long later but also in general: the fight-or-flight response is a misnomer. It’s much more accurate to call it the Four F response, because in a surprising or dangerous situation, peoples responses fall into four categories: fight, flight, freeze or fawn. The last two are important – many people will simply freeze up when something shocking happens. Some of this is a reaction to the sudden surge of adrenaline – their muscles lock up – and some of it is self-preservation. Freezing means not reacting and risking escalating the situation. Fawning, on the other hand, is a de-escalation behavior; it’s an attempt to keep things from getting worse by going along in hopes that the other person will calm down and there’ll be a chance to get clear later.

I want you to re-read that, because it’s incredibly important that you understand this. Freezing, not putting up a fight or pushing him away and going along when you had little idea of what’s going on or how you were going to get safe is absolutely f--king NOT the same as giving consent. Ok? I want you to absorb this to your bones: what you did was an instinctual reaction to danger; it was NOT consent. This is one of the reasons why the concept of enthusiastic consent is important; it’s recognizing that the absence of a “no” is not the same as a “yes”. The only thing that’s a yes is a “yes”. And what happens next is not a “yes”, and certainly not in the circumstances you describe.

By the time you’re out of the taxi, it’s very clear that you’re both stumbling drunk at the very least. Again: it’s possible that you were roofied; I have no way of knowing, and what you describe could go either way. But even if all you had up until that point was alcohol, you were completely impaired and what happened next is not your fault, nor was it your choice.

The next thing I want to emphasize is very simple: you’re in a stranger’s apartment, in a city and country where you don’t live. Your friend is too drunk (or worse) to get around on her own power, you can’t find your phone and you have no reliable way of calling for help, calling your family, getting a rideshare or anything else. You are in a position where you have very few obvious options and every reason to believe that you wouldn’t be able to get away safely. Re-read that sentence: you had no way of getting away, no way of getting help and no sure way of getting back to your hotel. This is a situation where you would have very good reason to feel like you had few safe choices and that making the wrong ones could get you or your friend hurt, or worse.

What happens next is, quite frankly, rape. You were too drunk to consent. Maybe he thought you were into him and it was all fine, maybe he knew you were too drunk to push back. Doesn’t really matter; the fact remains that what he did to you was without your consent, consent that you were in no shape to give. No matter how much he said ‘it’s fine’, it was not f--king fine. He was ignoring every attempt you made to convince him to stop, nor did he care about how clearly upset you were about all of this.

Remember what I said about the Four F response? What you describe doing while he was assaulting you is a precise example of the fawn response. This is you going along because the possible alternatives are worse, at a time where you literally can’t think clearly and don’t have full control of your body or your faculties. This was not you cheating on your boyfriend, you were being raped and your behavior was you trying to keep things from getting worse. That is not your fault. The fault lies entirely on the guy who raped you. 

This. Was. NOT. Your. Fault.

When you got your clothes back on and got your friend, you were doing the smart thing. When you called your brother and your boyfriend, you were doing the smart thing. You didn’t need to tell your boyfriend that you had been raped while you were still in the guy’s apartment. If you had, things could have escalated and badly. Even if the guy had honestly but incorrectly thought you were consenting and cool with it, calling him a rapist or saying you had been assaulted would have run the risk of setting off an argument if not violence; even the best case in that scenario would ultimately delay your getting out of there and back to safety. You were NOT being dishonest; you were getting yourself and your friend out of a bad situation. You did the right thing. Read that again: YOU DID THE RIGHT THING.

I can’t emphasize this enough: nothing that you did in the lead up to your being raped was cheating, nor was it leading this guy on, nor were you betraying your boyfriend. This was not your fault. You and your friend were having a fun night out in a foreign city and a guy took advantage of you. Literally nothing that you did justifies what he did, nor does it excuse it. You didn’t cheat, you didn’t lead him on, you were raped. 

I’m going to be honest: I’m pissed at your boyfriend for asking if ‘there was any part of you that wanted it’ because what the actual pluperfect crispy fried F--K?? Way to compound what was already a nightmarish experience by implying that you were responsible in any way, shape or form, asshat. What a great way to support someone you supposedly care for. Way to make an already horrible situation worse. F--king hell. 

Once again, I want you to understand: you weren’t out of line as a girlfriend, you didn’t violate your commitment to your boyfriend and you didn’t bring this on yourself. This isn’t some “gray area” where maaaaaaybe you were responsible for at least a little. Here are the facts: the fact that you didn’t fight back didn’t mean it wasn’t rape. The fact that you weren’t drugged (that we know of) doesn’t mean it wasn’t rape; the most common date rape drug is alcohol. You were drunk and far past the ability to consent – both effectively but also legally; many states find that you can be too drunk to give meaningful consent. But even without the legal standard – because the law is often an ass – you were raped. You were in no position to consent, you were barely aware of what was even happening and you were in a place where you had every reason to feel like you couldn’t get away safely. THIS. WAS. NOT. YOUR. FAULT.

YOU. DID. NOT. DESERVE. THIS.

Now the last thing I want you to understand is that the symptoms you describe experiencing in the months since your rape match many of the symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder. That’s not guilt, and calling it unfair self-blame may be accurate in that it’s unfair, but it’s a reaction to the trauma that you’ve undergone.

What I think you should do is talk to a rape crisis counselor, as soon as humanly possible. If your university doesn’t have resources for victims of rape and people suffering from PTSD, you should call the National Sexual Assault Hotline at 800-656-4673 or visit them online at online.rainn.org. They have trained counselors available 24/7 and partner with literally thousands of rape crisis centers around the country. They can help you get in touch with people in your area who can talk you through what happened, help you understand that this was not your fault and why you’re feeling the way you are and what your options are for getting help and moving forward.

What happened to you – and I can’t emphasize enough that this was done to you – was horrific and I’m so, so sorry you haven’t gotten the support you need and deserve in the aftermath. But that doesn’t mean that you can’t get it now. Do yourself every favor in the world and call them as soon as you possibly can.

But again: this was not your fault. THIS WAS NOT YOUR FAULT. You didn’t cheat, you didn’t bring this on yourself, you didn’t lead him on and this wasn’t some gray area. You were raped.

THIS WAS NOT YOUR FAULT. Ok? Remember that. This was not your fault.

I know s--t sucks right now and you feel awful, but you will be ok. I promise.

Check back in some time and let us know how you’re doing. 

All will be well.   

Please send your questions to Dr. NerdLove at his website (www.doctornerdlove.com/contact); or to his email, doc@doctornerdlove.com

DEAR DR. NERDLOVE: I’m trying to start dating for the first time. I’m 22, been on exactly ONE date, never kissed, still a virgin. I’ve been shamed about it by so-called “friends” more than once, and I personally would be more ashamed about it if I didn’t go through some…trauma that affected how I see other women and sex and my peers in general. To put it lightly, I’m surprised I didn’t blow my brains out in high school.��For the record, I am “disabled”; semantic-pragmatic language disorder. It’s like autism but only the communication portions, so I struggle with a lot of social cues and sarcasm and other general communication that normal people wouldn’t. For a long time, the fact that I would never be normal, and people wouldn’t like me for it plagued my existence and that it would always leave me on the outside looking in. Turns out asking for help is actually a good thing, as most of my friends could not tell something was “wrong” with me and even in the few instances they could tell it didn’t affect how they thought of me. Nice!��Now for the fun part: applying it to randos. Because of my trauma, I have issues with determining people’s boundaries, being as mine have been violated physically, mentally, emotionally, and sexually. Not that I’m a creep, actually the opposite. A close lady friend of mine said I am one of the most respectful men she’s ever interacted with. Not sure if that says more about me or the men she interacts with, but I digress. The point being I know what is very obviously OK, and I know what is very obviously not OK, but anything in the middle is a little murky for I fear I’m violating other people’s boundaries in the same way other people did to mine.��One of the things I feel is violating boundaries is asking people questions about themselves. It could be as simple as preferences about music or movies or food, but when I think about doing it, my brain goes into overdrive overthinking every scenario possible. Similarly, I feel it uncomfortable to reveal things about myself to strangers, I’ve had even minor things used against me in the past by so-called “friends” and to even be emotionally vulnerable with someone takes a lot of time to allow myself to open up. So, I tend to close up really quickly when it comes to revealing anything and everything that can and will be used against me. I’m not sure if it’s just the perception I have of myself or the way I come off or the response I got when I was a teen (I was really toxic to say the least), but it just feels…wrong to ask or be asked by some person I’ve spoken to for maybe three minutes beforehand about stuff. I know I need to ask and connect with others in order to get into a relationship, but I feel like I need to justify my existence to people before I’m allowed to know stuff about them, and vice versa. It doesn’t help that I’ve been told I’m physically intimidating. I’m not *that* tall, but I am visibly muscular beneath my dad bod and I’ve been told on more than one occasion I look like a “discord mod”, and in general people peg my age closer to 30 than 20.��I know how to start friendships, I know how to maintain friendships, but I don’t know how to progress it into a relationship (or start one) and I need to know how I can best connect with people on a deeper level in order to get that without opening up old scars. I guess that’s my conundrum.

On The Outside Looking In

DEAR ON THE OUTSIDE LOOKING IN: OLI, I get that you want to find love and I empathize, I do. But I have to be honest: I’m not sure you’re actually in any sort of shape to have one.

If you check the letter from Starting From Scratch that I answered the other day, you’d see the part where I told him that he was trying to run before he learned how to walk. In your case, it’s less trying to run when you need to walk, it’s that you’re trying to run a 5k when you’ve got two broken ankles. Yeah, you can get around with a lot of effort, what you want and what you’re trying to do are going to be seriously hindered by the injuries you’re carrying around.

I mean, just the part where you see asking questions or answering questions people are asking you is a serious problem. If sharing information about yourself or asking other people about themselves is something you’re struggling with, you’re going to have a very hard time actually building the sort of connection with people that you need to have a romantic relationship with them.

But honestly the deeper issue here is the trauma that you’ve alluded to, which honestly sounds horrific and I’m sorry you had to go through all of that. I can understand why this has left you more than a little gun-shy with being vulnerable to others, but to be perfectly frank, it sounds like those wounds have never actually closed. One of the things in your letter I noticed is that you never say whether you actually sought out help or treatment for your trauma, or if you’ve been trying to tough it out alone.

If you haven’t, then honestly, that should be your top priority. It doesn’t exactly take Sigmund Freud or Carl Jung to see just how much the after effects of it all have been lingering with you. Between the feeling that you need to justify your very existence before you even have the right to ask questions, and the way you’re unsure that you can recognize some boundaries, you seem like you’re carrying around a lot of pain and scars.

And quite frankly, if you have sought therapy, I’m wondering if it actually helped, or if your therapist was trauma-informed. If that reticence to open up to people and give information about yourself applies even to therapists, then I can see how you might not have gotten as much help as you needed.

Don’t get me wrong: I’m not saying that you’re not deserving of love or that relationships are always beyond you. What I am saying is that you’re dealing with the emotional equivalent of someone who wants to be an athlete when their legs are still in casts. Even after the casts come off, there’s going to be a necessary period of recovery and rehabilitation, where they have to do a lot of tedious work in order to reverse the muscle atrophy, to strengthen their joints and get back to the baseline before they can start training for the games.

And to be absolutely clear: there’s no shame in this, any more than there’s any shame at having been injured in the first place. This was something that was done to you, not something that you brought onto yourself. You’re no more responsible for the actions of the person who hurt you than you would be for the sun rising in the morning. But you were still hurt deeply, in ways that interfere with where you need to be in order to date. Trying to date now is going to be a frustrating and painful experience at best. At worst, the possibility of retraumatizing yourself by accident is pretty goddamn high.  

And believe me, I understand the desire to be over all of this and to finally find someone to love. But in the order of operations of life, resolving your trauma and the effects it’s had on you needs to come first. The problems you describe are all precisely the things that you need to be comfortable with to have a serious relationship. If you can’t let yourself be vulnerable – and believe me, I understand the why of it – then you’re going to have a very hard time finding a partner who’s actually going to be good for you. If anything, you’d be more at risk of finding someone who would want to take advantage of your difficulties and use them against you.

So I think the best thing you can do for yourself is to give yourself permission not to worry about dating or relationships while you address these issues. Find yourself a therapist who is trained in dealing with trauma and sexual abuse and do the work to heal these wounds. I know it means more time being single than you’d prefer but honestly, it will still get you where you want to be faster and with less pain than trying to go it alone and hoping things will heal on their own.

None of this means you’re undeserving of love, nor does it mean that you’re not good enough. It simply means that you’re still hurt, but you can heal if you get the help you need. Right now, you need to be a bad enough dude to love yourself and get the help you need. Don’t worry about your age or any particular timeline; I promise you, love will be waiting for you when you’re ready.

I know it all feels dark right now, but I promise you: hope is out there and hope shines bright.

You’ll be ok. I promise.

All will be well.  

Please send your questions to Dr. NerdLove at his website (www.doctornerdlove.com/contact); or to his email, doc@doctornerdlove.com