Are you a ‘good guy’? Or are you much, much worse than you thought?

Portraying rapists and sex abusers as evil strangers is harmful

A great many years ago, I had a really good friend. He was funny, charming, charismatic, and warm. We got on, we hung out all the time, going cycling, eating ice cream in the park, and ranting and raving about current affairs and collapsing into laughter. He was a great guy. A good guy. Until, one day, I visited him at his college. In the UK, it’s normal to have your own room and bathroom in halls, and I was sleeping on his bed, and he’d taken the floor. At about 2am, I felt him get off the floor and into bed with me. Ok, I thought, maybe the floor was too cold or something. A few minutes later, I felt his arm stroking my waist. I froze. I didn’t move. We’d never had a sexual or flirtatious thing going on at all. I racked my brain for anything I could have said or done to make him think I wanted this. I didn’t want this. He moved his hand down to my ass and thighs. I pushed him away hurriedly, pretending to be asleep. I didn’t sleep at all that night, worried that he might do it again. A few months later, he snapped at me. “You never want to hang out anymore,” he said. “Of course not,” I snapped back. “You molested me.”

You could hear the pause. That didn’t compute to him at all. He couldn’t have molested me! How dare I say something like that? He wasn’t a creep. He was a good guy. Didn’t I think he was a good guy? But he still didn’t, and couldn’t deny that he’d…