Rape is simple. Most of us, if we sat down to truly think about it, would find this very easy to understand. But rape is also a bad word. So even when actions portray this heinous crime, we don’t want to claim such a dirty word. We quibble over definitions and boundaries. Was it really rape if she knew him? Was it really rape if she went back? Was it really rape if she was sexually active?

The truth is that rape, at its core, is an invasion. It is robbery. You are stealing access to someone’s body, when they have not granted you permission.
The lack of that very permission – consent – is what classifies a sexual incident as rape. Not the clothing worn before or during the encounter. Not the familiarity between victim and perpetrator. Not frequency of sexual activity or number of sexual partners.

Imagine you returned home after a long day to find your house had been raided. Whether you left your doors and windows open, or stored your belongings in a safe, theft is theft. Perhaps you were at home while this assault happened, and the attackers made you hand over your belongings after making violent threats. Maybe you knew the person threatening you. None of these possibilities redefines the crime. Not the state of your padlock, your relationship with the robbers or the fact that you handed over your belongings yourself.

It’s sad, and frankly quite disgusting, that we have to spell out something that is so clear. We have become so desensitised to the pain of others that we try to rationalise the horrors they have experienced. We try to shrink their stories and make the problem about them – poor clothing choices, an obsession with a man, an evil desire to ruin others’ reputations, a sick twisted excuse for promiscuity or whatever warped explanation we can concoct.

No one asks victims of credit card fraud why
they shopped online. No one rebukes them for continuing to make online transactions
afterwards. So why do we ask victims of rape, domestic violence and other horrific acts of gender-based violence, why they were in particular places or why they stayed with people who assaulted them?
What peculiar insensitivity makes us think it is okay to ask people such ridiculous questions after they have not only experienced such terrible trauma, but finally gathered the courage to actually talk about it? As if it wasn’t enough to blame them for their own suffering, we go even further and try to deny that what happened to them was a crime in the first place.
Well, let’s clear things up.
If you engage in any kind of sexual activity with someone, either without their consent or by compelling them to give permission under duress, you are a rapist.
That means:
If you made someone have sex with you by
threatening them, through blackmail or with
physical violence, you’re a rapist.
If you force yourself on someone who doesn’t want to have sex with you, you are a rapist.
If you had sex with someone who was unable to give consent because they were unconscious, you are a rapist.

It might not be easy to hear, but if you’re having a hard time living with a six-letter word, think about those having a significantly harder time living with
your actions and their consequences. In the grand scheme of burdens, you can admit that yours isn’t the largest one to bear in such a situation.
If you have a problem with being called a rapist, the solution is simple. Don’t rape. Don’t use someone else’s body as a tool in your sick, twisted power trip. There are many people who would gladly play with you if you asked nicely. So just ask. Nicely. Sometimes the answer to a question is no, and that’s okay. Maybe it’s their loss, but it’s also their decision. Move your Instruments to greener pastures and stop planting where you’re not wanted.

This is where the devil’s advocate types try to turn this into a situation of extremes. Sarcastic rhetoric about needing to ask for permission before kissing or signing forms before penetration usually come up at this point.
The answer to this is quite obvious.
Communication is as much verbal as it is
physical. Let’s be honest, sex is the kind of thing that should make you pretty enthusiastic.

If you’re getting intimate with someone whose body language is off, stop and ask them what’s up. If they remain ambivalent, walk away. If you feel actual resistance, stop. Needless to say, if they tell you to stop, STOP. If someone really wants to have sex with you, and you pull away because you’re unsure, trust me, they will confirm and even beg for exactly what they want. Get that
confirmation or get out. Hopefully, most decent people faced with the prospect of being a rapist might view one lost orgasm as a fair trade.

Secondly, do not expose yourself to risks of rape.