My dad reacted exactly opposite how I expected. My wonderful, sensitive, feminist dad told me I got myself into a “banal” situation and I shouldn’t have been drinking. That hurt me more than the rape itself ever did. Thankfully I had been deep in feminism by then and I kicked him out of my room and told him exactly what I thought of him.

He came back a few minutes later crying and asking for forgiveness, saying it just hurt him so much he couldn’t handle it. I forgave him, but I still wish I never told my parents (my original plan.) It just became a cycle of me reassuring them that I was okay.

I agree that a lot of men just can’t handle it. Dad for example. My boyfriend is wonderful, but all my friends seems to have blocked it out and some still crack triggering jokes. Part of the reason I think is I didn’t react “enough.” I wasn’t upset enough, I wasn’t a crying mess for weeks or breakdown or anything (not that there’s anything wrong with people who do, but apparently by being composed, it couldn’t really have affected me or mattered…) It drives me nuts when they equate a hard day at work to rape and has helped me come to the realization that a lot of my old (male) college friends just….suck.

As far as opening up to significant others…I’ve gone the full disclosure route, I’ve done the cliff’s notes version… none of the guys had any sense of how to deal, but most were at least understanding when I needed to pull away or got freaked out.

The first guy I dated/slept with afterwards said something extremely triggering while trying to make a joke, and I had a visceral physical reaction – the relationship was never the same after. And he was one of the guys I’d told the whole story to! So I guess from that I’ve learned to take it slow, to let them know at the outset that I may have some hangups and a need to control the pace at which we get physical.

As far as family members go, I’ve only told my parents (mom was awful, dad was quiet but supportive, little bro is Positively Determined Never To Push Women’s Boundaries) and one aunt. I don’t see the rest often enough that they need to know that side of me.