This morning, I heard the postman put what sounded like two packages through the letterbox. They landed with two soft thumps on the doormat. I went to retrieve them and saw that there were two manilla jiffy bags, adddress side down on the mat. It crossed my mind that they might be books that I had ordered from the USA some weeks ago, but I knew as soon as I picked them up, before even looking at the addressee label, that they were not for me, and they contained things that I would rather not think about while I go about my day to day life.
They were both addressed to my torturer. Both packages had the familiar weight and “feel” of the many packages I picked up over the years as they arrived in a steady stream from online suppliers of “sexy lingerie” promising delivery in “discrete plain wrapping”.
I stood in the hallway with the two jiffy bags in my hand, re-reading the name on the address label and feeling increasingly sick.
He has been gone from my home for some time now. Why am I suddenly recieving these packages addressed to him again? A wave of paranoia swept over me as I speculated on possible intent. Obviously, it could have been a mistake on the part of the supplier of “sexy lingerie”, but I couldn’t help worrying about how perhaps he has done this to give him an excuse to show up at my home on the pretext of picking up his mail. I don’t have a forwarding address for him, and even if I did, why the hell should I take time out of my day to go to the post office so that he could receive his objects of perverted desire? Maybe he just wanted to show me he could still get to me? His sick idea of having the last laugh. Why was this happening? Why now?
So many of these things arrived over the years. Large boxes containing high heeled thigh length boots. Rolled packages, the hard strips inside a tell tale sign of a corset. Dresses. Stockings. Girdles. Shoes. Handbags. Teddies. Baby doll nightdresses. Catalogues. Sometimes they would arrive addressed to his “female” name. He loved shopping. “Treating [femme name]” it was referred to. One Valentines day he “treated” “her” to expensive perfume and a red bra and knickers set. I was taken for a meal while he wore them under his jeans and sweatshirt. He would tell me that he was buying things for “her” to dress in as a treat for *me*, then expect me to ravish him. Ignoring that I barely touched him at all. That I had screamed at him that he is “A FUCKING PERVERT – GET OUT OF MY HOUSE” more times than I can remember.
So, you see, I am wary of surprise packages.
I made a cup of tea. Cried some. Got angry. Cried again. Switched off the entry system to my flat in case he decided to “drop round”. Switched my phone off. Hunkered down. I was supposed to meet my daughter this afternoon, but I cancelled, choosing instead to go back to bed where I spent the day in dark depression.
I have days when I barely consider my life before. The years in numbness and disassociation. Walking around like a half-dead person with flat emotions, unable to feel joy or pain. Then something like this happens, and for a few hours I cry. I cry for my lost years. For the lost me and for the part of me that died.
I want to reach out to every woman who has ever been hurting inside with no one to tell that to. Who has tried to speak and been told that they are being ridiculous, or that they have to learn to “accept”, to “have compassion”. Who has kept secrets they didn’t want to carry inside them. Who has feared rejection by the “normal” world. Who has smiled when they feel dead inside. Who has buried their anger so deep that the thought of it escaping terrifies them. Who has ever lost themself.
You are not alone. I’m holding your hand, as those women who helped me find my sanity held mine. I love you, my sisters.
Update…
I will be putting the packages back in the post, marked “Not known at this address”. I did think of dropping them off at the pub he drinks in with a note attached saying “STOP GETTING YOUR PERVERT UNDIES SENT TO MY ADDRESS”, but I know that would backfire and get ugly. So I’ll settle with giving him the hassle of tracking down his frillys.
naefearty 
I am so sorry you didn’t spend time with your daughter. It is so terrible when the things that have happened to us continue to poison our lives. Your decision about what to do with the package was such a good one. I told you before that I kicked myself for so many years for getting involved with a predator; it felt good to stop.
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It does feel good to reclaim one’s life and assert healthy boundaries. So much of what these men as individuals and the trans lobby and their supporters in general argue for is about asserting their dominance over women by telling us we cannot have boundaries. It is experienced as a violation. We must not say “no”. We must accommodate. We must deny the evidence in front of us. We must not define *ouselves*.
This is happening on both the individual and macro level for women. Yet no one is outraged. Apart from women who recognise systemic female oppression, and who dare to speak of this. For which they are villified and threatened, excluded and no platformed. Little more than a modern day witch hunt. Things are very bad indeed for women when we can no longer even define ourselves and are threatened or labeled as “bigots” for speaking about our lived experiences.
Many of those who support transgenderist theories consider themselves “progressive”. I ask them “What is progressive about demanding that women bow down to male definitions of what a woman *is*? What is progressive about censorship? What is progressive about victim blaming?”
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Vile that you had to suffer this invasion despite having already worked so hard to create physical and mental space away from this man. You dealt with it superbly. You may not always feel it, but you are brave. You are here. And you are loved.
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Thankyou. I need to remember that.
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I am so sorry & angry that this continues for you – you are doing all you can to keep yourself safe from him and recover. I hope writing about this helps you to cope and I am sure it is, and will be, significant for many other women. Sending love xx
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Many of those who support transgenderist theories consider themselves “progressive”. I ask them “What is progressive about demanding that women bow down to male definitions of what a woman *is*? What is progressive about censorship? What is progressive about victim blaming?”
This.^
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Echoing everyone’s comments so far – anger, sadness, and appreciation to you for speaking and reaching out to other women. This reeks of sadistic intimidation and it fills me with rage that this man is continuing to find ways to breach what you’ve so carefully and bravely built. A few decades ago we didn’t have the concept or language for ‘spousal rape’, or ‘battered woman syndrome’… Not that these terms are in anyway great or feminist necessarily, but they were steps in shifting law and society and it was fought for by brave women. In the same way, you and your writing give me hope that things will change in future – that society will begin to recognize trans reversals for what they are – total and complete entrapment of women; the most insidious expression of male violation and violence.
You are brave. You give women hope. You are fucking awesome. I respect and appreciate you so much. Sending you much love xxxx
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Naefearty, sorry you had to experience this. Perhaps you can check with your post office that a change of address order is still on file, Where I am, they expire after a year.
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I relate to this post so much. While my (non legal) husband doesn’t think he is a woman, he is autogynephilic, and it has ruled our sex life (his sex life- I didn’t get one) for so long. So much of this stands, like wearing lingerie for *me* even though its obvious I don’t get turned on by it. The gaslighting and abusive behaviors are all to common, and this is is every aspect of our lives.
The big difference is how I got involved in this mess in the first place. I walked right into it, thinking I was being so progressive, open minded, and supportive. A willing accomplice, blind to what was to come, influenced by “sex positivity”. I never told him he was a pervert, or anything like that, I was always the supportive confidant. Even now that I have little to do with his fetish, I don’t tell him these things. If I did he would simply hide it, I doubt he would stop, like he claims he would. Drugs are a large component of this fetish, he only xdresses on meth. But to be fair, he spent nearly a decade as a near constant drug user, so both went hand in hand.
At least he realizes its 100% sexual, and not about identity, though I could see how a few different life experiences might have sent him on that path. He would never call himself a lesbian, a real woman, etc. But the damage is still there, it’s still oppressive and misogynist.
I am currently working out exactly how I got duped into thinking this was not only OK, but enlightened. I am figuring out exactly what damage was caused; between sex work and this relationship, my sexuality has been fully deranged. There is nothing so regretful than inviting in your oppressor, and believing you are doing the modern thing. I hate to think that my actions caused other women to accept the unacceptable.
I am writing it up, so maybe others won’t make the same mistakes. All the years I lost to this insanity, I can’t even think about it. And I still live with it. I hope to save another woman the trouble, and I think many are drawn in by the same thing I was- “sex positive feminism”.
Here is part 1. I’m not a great writer, and am busy w 2 small kids, so the rest may take awhile. better than never, I say!
http://freefromsexpozzies.wordpress.com/2014/09/29/a-casualty-of-sex-pozzi-beliefs-part-one-the-beginning/
THANK YOU- this blog has been instrumental in learning how to name the problem, and realizing I am not alone.
(I have commented on here earlier, but don’t wanna link the identities)
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Oh I totally understand. I too at one time thought I was being oh so progressive. I do believe that women are duped by a combination of being groomed to be the eternal care takers and by queer/sex pozzie ideology that subtly coerces women into accepting the male agenda as “progressive” or “cool” and shames women as “prudes” for standing against such “norms”. It is evident by the ever burgeoning rape culture we are surrounded by, and by the increasing backlash against feminism (unless it is a “feminism” de-fanged and centred around males – particularly males who think they are women) that women have been severely duped indeed. Please do not blame yourself in any way for this…it is entirely understandable.
Now I’m off to read your blog. Thank you so much for adding your voice to the rejection of transgenderism in all it’s forms and it’s harms against females. We are growing in number. I hope your words reach other women who are struggling alone, too afraid to speak out. Thank you for sharing this here.
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Thank you for your words Freefrom.and good luck. xx.
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Ribbit. Thinking of you; I am on your side.
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