This isn't about what you did. Despite knowing I was unwilling, despite my repeatedly telling you no, despite the look of sadness and revulsion in my eyes, you decided to penetrate me on my friend's couch while I was drunk and half asleep. No, this isn't for you. Because you don't know you raped me. Because society might not even call this rape. Your friends (who should be my friends too) definitely wouldn't. If I really didn't want you to fuck me, I could have pushed you off as soon as I knew what was going on. You aren't bigger or stronger. This isn't because I know a police report would be useless and would cause more damage than good. No, Anonymous, this is not for you, but for every man. For every man who has heard my apprehension and hesitation and thought the subject was open for debate. That thought their erection took precedence over my comfort. That thought I'd like it once we started. This is because when I say I don't want to, I shouldn't have to have an army of excuses at my disposal. This is because "I don't want to" should be enough! And this is because not one but many men have employed these tactics against me. I'm sick of all of your excuses for manhandling me and bowling over my resistance: "But you're so sexy..." "But I thought you liked me..." "But you have such a nice ass..." "But I just want to fuck you so bad..." "C'mon baby..." Stop! Just stop. You raped me. And I'm still coming to terms with that thought. But this is not for you. This is for the society that raised you and taught you that this was okay. Because it's not.