Oh, please don’t let him be a bad guy. Please. He says things sometimes that upset me, that objectify women and indirectly minimize the negative impact men’s words can have on women. But then he argues, “No, you’re different. You’re not like most women.” Is that abusive, for him to just think that? I can’t think straight. You tell me.

How am I different? He states of one of my friends, “Just because she was sexually abused doesn’t make her less of a whore.” How disgusting is that? Or am I making too much of it? Is he wrong? How many years after the abuse does a victim become accountable for her actions? Or is it a matter of age? How extreme does she have to get before it’s inexcusable?

The suggestion that it’s okay for him to insult and degrade a woman because that woman isn’t me doesn’t feel true to me. He’s degrading one of us. He’s objectifying her–directly and with printed words to which she can refer again and again. She says she almost wishes he had hit her instead. I empathize. I know exactly what she means. Can a masculine man then truly understand the effect angrily yelling words like “whore” and “cunt” can have on us? Can he understand how frightening it is for me to hear the words I quoted above? He’s so certain she’s worthless. I’ve done the things she’s done. So what makes me different? Nothing. If he believes she deserves to feel degraded for a perceived betrayal she committed against him, what other situations does he feel it’s okay to make a person feel less than human, scared?

Sam seems to be evidence certain men can’t understand—more importantly, they can’t respect—the effects of rape or domestic abuse and neglect on a woman’s self-worth. Given the typical male response to the above line of questioning, using my own informal survey of men on their perceptions of women, it seems Sam represents a great majority of men. Most of them can’t see what’s so wrong about making a woman feel verbally assaulted or greatly demeaned by their actions. Perhaps more problematically, they don’t want to listen to the arguments explaining the violent fear these words can strike in ourselves if it’s spat in certain, obviously degrading ways.

Or am I just having a panic attack? I don’t trust myself to see him clearly. Is he a bad guy? Oh, god, I hope he’s not a bad guy. I really love his good parts, and they seem to outnumber the bad by a wider ratio every day. Is that enough? Is it good enough that he’s been improving? I’m nervous of the answer. I can’t think clearly right now.

Sleep. Maybe I just need sleep. I’m falling apart. The collapse has begun. I don’t want to go through this again. Please, please, don’t let him be a bad guy. Please. I need to be okay. I was doing so well.

I can do it. Just breathe, right?

My stomach hurts, and I can’t relax. It doesn’t feel like I can survive this.

Breathe. Breathe. That’s just my hopelessness.