I just can’t understand rape. Perhaps because I’ve never desired to have power over someone, it just makes no sense to me. Aside from the absolute horror inflicted on the victim (which, really, should never be put aside), how is it at all worth it to the perpetrator? I mean, I guess I just don’t understand what these (mostly) men get out of it.

Whatever that it is in others that could possible enjoy that or at least feel compelled to commit such an act, it’s just totally absent in me.

I’ve had drunk women pass out literally in my lap and I felt not the least urge to rape them. Or even to look down their top for that matter.

And I am no saint, not in any way.

This really creepy guy was in my friends group in high school and he once asked me and a few others hypothetical questions such as, “What would you do if Kate Moss was passed out in your bed?”

The others’ responses were predictable. I don’t need to recount them here.

My response was, “Well, I’d get her a blanket if she looked cold.”

Puzzled looks all around.

Yes, I did call myself a feminist in high school and yes, many ass-kickings were attempted to be dispensed due to this fact.

Did not give a fuck then, still don’t now.