…or This is where I am six months after dealing with bullshit harassment bullshit in my LARP community
We keep talking about consent and harassment, inappropriate behavior, how to make our larp community better, how to stop actions that harm people and drive players away. I’m just not sure how to move that conversation beyond where it is now without context. Well meaning people say, “Consent is important because everyone has a right to be informed/respected/enforce their boundaries/etc.” but those are hard concepts to understand and put into action. Keep reading and lemme tell you why.
I‘m So Happy I Can’t Stop Crying
In June, my last four years playing in Mind’s Eye Society, a White Wolf-focused live-action roleplaying club, congealed together in a strange moment of clarity. I realized I’d been putting up with sexual harassment and not feeling comfortable within my community. I hadn’t ever said much about it. I kept pressing on, cheerful and positive while other women raged in frustration or left the community. Why did I put up with this? I had no context.
What does that mean? It means I have never lived in a world where my gender did not matter, and I wasn’t harassed about it in some way. I just didn’t see it as harassment. I saw it as normal. I was taught to smile brightly, laugh it off, never how to handle it. I’ve had a quality education in Aristotle and scanning churchyard poetry, but I’ve never had a quality education in how to address harassment.
Right. So I had no context. My world looked/looks like this: Smile when that creepy dude from trig hits on me, smile when that guy from the gym follows me into the empty stairwell, smile when the interviewer says, “You’re too pretty to be this smart,” and definitely keep smiling when that executive explains how to figure out a website’s conversion rate, because your degree in math and four years of product management experience isn’t enough for a woman to comprehend a basic metric of her career. For a long time, this was how I made it through the world. I kept thinking, “I’m a lucky one because no man has ever raped me or told me to suck his dick to keep my job.”
Sometimes it just takes a moment, or a story, or actively spending a point of XP on Empathy to gain clarity. For me, it was a moment. More on that in a sec. Hang with me, I know I’m verbose, but I swear this is good shit (ethical disclosure: I’m biased).
So why am I writing about something that so many others write about? I mean, every day we see someone share a Buzzfeed or Upworthy article about the way a woman powerfully communicates her struggles. You know that fucking annoying headline that manipulates your natural curiosity and biases into you clicking (drives me flippin’ crazy, but that’s another blog). But that’s my point: we see it every day, and that is becoming normalized and falling on deaf ears.
The second point is that we don’t know that woman, and so the plight isn’t as immediate or empathetic. I’m glad that BuzzWorthyClickyBait.com woman is doing something for the world, but how do you put her experience into my larp community? Hers is so vast and overwhelming. It’s difficult to understand. But you — you know me. I beg for Star Wars advice from you guys. You’re the ones who adore my dog pictures and ask me how my heart is healing. We have a connection — an investment in one another — because we’re in the same community. So I’m hoping you’ll care about what’s happened to me, because you can put it into context and have empathy for someone you know, within an environment you understand and care about.
What Went Down
It began with a player I did not know writing something that many people thought was about raping my character, June. Suddenly my eyes opened to shit I’d been playing down for years. I attribute this to a mixture of the male and female friends who continually spoke about harassment, to my current job and its empowering environment, and because I was too angry to be scared. I now felt like I didn’t have anything to lose. My life had changed and the MES community was no longer as important to me as it had been. Therefore speaking out, being ostracized, and cruelly attacked on social media meant very little to me now. I just wanted this to stop––for everyone who had experienced harassment.
I sent a letter to our Board of Directors listing most of the things that had happened to me in the last four years within the club, things I had downplayed and ignored and laughed away out of fear of reprisal. These events kept driving me away from inclusive play — something I won the organization’s Actor of the Year for, something I believe in. I folded into myself because it had become so unpleasant to interact with so many people due to their treatment of me. “Manhandled” is a good, reductive word for how I felt.
Here is the list of incidents that happened to me, all performed by men in MES:
- told many times that I only got archon because I’m good looking
- had men I don’t know randomly start giving me back rubs without my consent
- touched various places on my body without my consent
- repeatedly grabbed and hugged by men I don’t know because I’m hugging friends near them
- asked by men I hardly know if I need help getting out of my costume
- followed back to my hotel room at conventions by men I hardly know
- “I’ll be in my bunk” is a common response to pictures I’ve posted on Facebook, and when I’ve arrived at games in costume
- and most recently reading a sexually violent post the the national list where many players perceived my PC June as the subject.
The one incident I left out was a man I had never been romantically involved with, whom I told I was in a monogamous relationship, forcibly kissing me at a convention. I tried to write about it again and again, but I couldn’t, so I left it out. It really bothered me that I had to qualify it with “never been romantically involved with” and how he “knew I was in a monogamous relationship.” It still does.
I also listed off the Facebook messages I’ve received from male members of the club:
“your so hot I can’t think. how can i take you seriously haha”
“can’t stop thinkin of you as a slutty wench”
“Hooooot I’d do you so hard in that.”
“You’re single and i’m willing”
“you make a FANTASTIC slutty pirate wench”
“God damnit woman. How can we be Bros when you dress like that. When I’m thinking about the booty. AsS”
“Just wanted to add to the tons of comments already on your the costume and I mean this in the most gentleman way possible, I would rape you (smiley face)”
Heartbroken, In Disrepair
Things haven’t been peachy for me since my plea for reform. And before you start assuming, this is not about the BoD’s recent efforts. This is not about other members. This is about when I threw a stone into a pond and the ripples spread, touching various parts of my life and my experiences––in listicle form, because we all know I ❤ listicles.
Unfortunately this listicle does not have any answers. In fact, it shows how little I know about what’s happened to me since dealing with harassment. Luckily, I have a great therapist aiding me.
1. I stopped playing my character June.
She was this cheerful, spritely redhead, and I loved making people laugh and smile. But all my passion and interest in a character I once loved is just…gone. Putting on that mien again makes my skin crawl — and my eyes sting because the loss of June in this manner is so profound. She should have been <redacted, for the NST only>, not dwindling into nothing. I did not put all this time and effort into enhancing other people’s experiences only to be misused by them. Except those are the risks when you invest in others. Best plans, baby. Best plans…
I’m a vulnerable person. In fact, my vulnerability is my armor (but that’s another blog post). Armor is not invincible, and sometimes you must bleed. I’ve been spurting blood for months now, and I have no idea how to heal these wounds. I just know that I’ll still continue to be vulnerable despite this. It’s done me far more good than harm when I evaluate its performance. We will chalk up June as a learning lesson, but I have a successful career, many good friendships, and a very healthy outlook on life, all due to a willingness to be vulnerable. Ah god, it still aches though. My June. I miss you.
2. I’m more of a workaholic than before.
But yes, that successful career. I’m lucky I work at a company that rewards my vulnerability and empathy. They understand how it makes me a better product manager and a great coworker.
This is why I mostly focus on my job these days. Where I once felt a wonderful sense of belonging in my larping community, I now feel it in my job. I rather spend time with people who appreciate who and what I am, rather than people who look to use and exploit me for their own amusement and gain. This is not a blanket statement, and users exist everywhere, but for now I’ve found a place where I can thrive again.
I do miss thriving within MES though. I’ve cried over this, trying to figure out how to get back to where I was. I still don’t know how. Sad fact: whiskey does not help.
3. Some relationships will never recover.
If I have an issue with someone, I usually talk to them. When it comes to the harassment and broken trust I’ve experienced, I find my mouth hollow. I don’t know what to say, and so a swath of friendships and relationships have fallen to the wayside. My trust was broken in ways I can’t vocalize, even when I’m quite good at understanding complex emotions. Yet I find myself numb, and I just can’t engage these people. I realize it does not help change things. This bothers me, because I always want actionable change. I don’t have any actionable items to help repair these friendships. I don’t know if I even want to. Should I have to? I don’t know. I think about this very deeply and often.
4. It’s a daily debate with myself to plan for next chronicle.
I have a character concept I like. I just don’t want to share it with many others because I am afraid. So then why play? Why not do a tabletop with those people? Why bother even larping? I used to like it. I miss the costuming. I miss the stories. I miss the experience — well, the good experience. My muscles tighten when I think of the bad experiences.
Most people bail on things that make them unhappy, things where their hands shake and chest tighten. This is where I deviate from “most people.” While I’m not into skydiving or hang gliding or even looking out of the window of a three-story building, I don’t run from the majority of things that scare me. I don’t run toward them either. I think about them. My career as a product manager forces me to evenly examine and explore ideas and opinions. This skill has proliferated throughout my life, and this is why I debate whether I should continue larping or not, why I haven’t just bailed. I continue to examine and explore it. I’ll do that until I find an answer that satisfies me.
5. I’m suspicious and defensive about anyone who wants to role-play with me.
When I made June, I made her seemingly oblivious to romance because I knew how often other players used that to acquire unethical access to another player. I consistently rebuffed in-character attempts to flirt with June, and attempts to hit on me (and trust me, motherfucker, I saw through your sloppy attempts. I was just stupidly polite to not call you on your gross behavior). The one time I gave in, the one time I trusted another player, I found myself significantly used and abused in ways that pale in comparison to the blatant harassment listed above, and it has left me emotionally crippled in many aspects of my life.
I am also very concerned about the damage players can do to me through the seemingly innocuous roleplaying we engage in. So often there is never a thought or concern for the other person’s comfort. Many people just take and do without ever asking if it’s all right. Would you do this in someone’s house? No, you wouldn’t. We’re taught to not steal objects, but the intangible things, the soft things, they’re a free-for-all.
6. I don’t feel safe anywhere amongst larp communities, even tangential events with larp aspects.
I went to an experience design conference in November. It had larp elements in it, and I found every excuse to avoid anything to do with larp. We were given costumes, and I was one of the few that did not dress up until the conference’s last night. I panicked when confronted with any sort of acting that I might have to do. I stepped back and took more of an instructor’s role, which eased my anxiety. However it stuck with me that I couldn’t engage others via something that had once been an important part of my life.
This also happened in October when I forced myself to attend a MES game after months of not playing. I also forced myself to go to a dinner meet up before, where I hid in the corner and prayed no one saw me. I had spent the day crying while others played Apocalypse, convincing myself it was good to engage my community again. When I finally did show up to the game, I couldn’t be June. I made a beeline for the player I deemed the safest and stayed in the same place all night except to use the restroom. There was no pleasure in getting dressed, putting on my wig, doing my makeup. There was no happiness in me, and so there was no happiness in June. I think she died that night when I hid in a bathroom stall silently crying and mourning for who I used to be.
Maybe I can’t ever do this again. Maybe I can. I don’t know yet. Not knowing is okay. Any decision I come to is ok. What is not okay is being wishy washy about which to use: “ok” or “okay.” I prefer “okay.”
7. All I do is fight with myself.
I don’t want to give up. I refuse to let a few — okay several — no, a lot — fuck it — I refuse to let rampant mistreatment force me out of a community I care about. Except I’m not sure how much I really do care anymore. Except I care enough to write this post, read it about 30 times, edit the fuck out of it, read it another several times and miss a bunch of typos, then publish it for my community and hope it brings about change, then edit it on and off throughout the day when I realize I haven’t been clear enough with a particular sentence.
Sometimes I swear I’m going mad as I try and work this all out.
Comeback Queen?
Beneath this layer of dazed-hesitant-larper is someone who does care and wants her community to change. Apparently she can also write epic essays on deep emotional conflict that’s been swirling around in her head for months, coalescing into this text that you’re reading. I still care enough to give you context, to encourage you to find empathy, to reach outside your own experience. I still care enough to risk posting deeply personal things about myself and point a community of people to read it, hoping they’ve read my previous post. You know, the one about NOT BEING AN ASSHOLE and hoping no one’s a dick to me about what I’ve written here.
This is what I want you to understand: harassment within MES, within larp communities, is not indistinct or vague or faceless. Every person you know has been harassed and hurt in some way. I just happen to be a woman who has been harassed for her looks and often reduced to only a hot piece of ass. You, dear reader, have also been harassed — for your religion, for not meeting someone else’s expectations, for a pair of shoes you wore, for your sexual orientation, for liking Nickelback*. Some people experience harassment every day of their lives, others only on occasion. But we’re all in this community together, and I don’t think the majority of you want what’s described above to happen to others or yourselves. I know I don’t, and that’s why it’s here for you to read.
Now act accordingly: with context and empathy.
*this was a cheap and easy joke that I am in no way sorry for––cuz Nickelback omg