Written by Michelle Lewsen and was first published on www.theycallmemummy.com.
My Precious Children,
Last night, I succumbed to peer pressure
(exactly what I caution you NEVER to do) and went with a bunch of
girlfriends to see Fifty Shades of Grey. I ignored the little voice in
my head that implored me to just say “no!” because, after all, it’s just
a silly movie, right? Well, I wish I had done as I always tell you to
do and given that voice credit because it was right. The thing is, I’m
also kind of glad I didn’t because now I have these words for you.
One
day, in the not very distant future, I’m going to blink and gasp as I
realise you’re suddenly old enough to see movies like Fifty Shades of
Grey, yourselves. Of course, you or your friends may even decide that
curiosity wins and risk sneaking a peek even earlier than that. Either
way, I have to accept the hard fact that your innocent eyes and your
uncorrupted minds are going to see this drivel sooner or later.
I
am writing this so that when that day comes, you’ll recognise Fifty
Shades of Grey for what it is, rather than what it pretends to be.
Let me begin by telling you what Fifty Shades of Grey is not.
It is not a love story.
It
does a pretty convincing job of masquerading as one, for sure, but
please believe me when I say that love doesn’t even have a cameo role in
this plot.
It is also not a romantic fairy tale with a harmless bit of naughtiness sprinkled on top.
Romance
is glaringly absent, in fact. As for harmless S&M, please
understand that this screenplay’s message is the polar opposite of
harmless. In this ‘harmless’ piece of fluff movie, a rich, handsome,
experienced man uses his power to seduce and manipulate a young,
innocent student into doing a lot of things she is extremely
uncomfortable doing.
They are not equals. They are not partners. There is, in fact, no ‘they’ to speak of at all.
Rather,
it’s a movie about a narcissistic man’s controlling and violent sexual
desires and his sense of entitlement to use and abuse a vulnerable young
woman’s body and mind as tools for his own gratification. It’s all
about his needs, coupled with the arrogant expectation that she should
comply, regardless of her discomfort, to please him.
I sat in the
theatre and looked around me at hundreds of women, buying into this
so-called ‘sexy love story’ and I felt sick. If an entire theatre of
women three times your age couldn’t see how damaging this plot line is,
how on earth are teenage girls and boys supposed to?
Please, my
daughters, don’t allow this romanticizing of sexual domestic abuse fool
you into believing that you should ever allow yourself to be treated
like Anastasia Steele. Please, my son, don’t watch this one day and
believe that it’s ever okay to intimidate, manipulate or disrespect a
woman like the ‘hero,’ Christian Grey. Nobody, male or female, wants or
deserves to be disrespected, manipulated or violated against his or her
wishes.
I hope, when the day comes that you’re grown up enough to
be in a relationship, that you’ll understand that what goes on behind
bedroom doors should always be pleasurable for both of you, regardless
of your tastes. I hope you’ll understand that consent given under duress
isn’t consent at all. I hope you’ll demand respect and that you’ll give
respect in return.
Tonight, I walked out of the cinema feeling
terrified and a little sad for your generation. If this is the movie
that you base your ideals of love and romance on, then I need to make
some things very clear and I hope you’re listening.
If someone
wants to be with you, turning up at your part-time job unannounced when
you haven’t ever even discussed that you have one and acting possessive
when a co-worker talks to you is not romantic. It’s creepy.
If you say you’re a virgin and he responds by violently deflowering you, that’s not love. That’s assault.
If
he tracks your whereabouts when you’re out clubbing and takes you to
his hotel when you’re too drunk to make a rational decision, then
undresses you and puts you in his bed for the night, that’s not
protective. It’s stalking. In fact, stalking is the least of what it is.
If he turns up inside your apartment uninvited, it’s not romantic. It’s breaking and entering.
If
you tell him you’re not interested and you ask him to leave and he
responds by tying you to your bed and having violent sex with you after
you repeatedly say “no,” all the while threatening to do worse if you
make a noise, it’s not passion. It’s rape.
If he sells your car
and buys you a new one without your permission “to surprise you,” it’s
not romantic. It’s theft and manipulation.
If he monitors your
phone calls and threatens you with physical harm because another man
calls you, he’s not in love with you. He’s abusing and controlling you.
If
beating you with a leather strap until you cry is what gives him
pleasure and he asks you to do it despite your distress because it turns
him on and then plays the victim to explain it all away, there is no
soundtrack in the world that should quiet the voice in your head that
yells out that love and romance were never in the picture and they never
will be.
My children, this film was deeply disturbing to me,
and I have life experience on my side. I shudder to think that you are
going to grow up with stories like this to model relationships on and
that you or the people you date will mistake this for ‘normal.’
Please,
my precious children, know this: Love is gentle. Love never takes. Love
does not demand. Love waits for consent. Love doesn’t need helicopter
rides and expensive gifts. Love is enough.
When there’s love, the voice in your head doesn’t yell. It simply doesn’t have to.
My children, listen to me on this, if nothing else.
And, if you choose not to listen to me, then listen to the voice in your head.
With abundant love,
Mum
