Or, How Trauma Has Shifted Jordan Rileys Approach To Relationships

𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆  𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐌  𝐄𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐒  𝐎𝐅  𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐔𝐌𝐀 or,  how  trauma  has  shifted  jordan  riley’s  approach  to  relationships

𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐑  𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆:     this  post  digs  into  jordan’s  trauma  around  her  assault.  the  assault  itself  is  not  chronicled  or  detailed,  but  her  mindset  and  attitude  following  it  is.  do  not  read  this  post  if  you  are  easily  triggered  by  this  subject  matter.

it’s  no  secret  that  surviving  a  traumatic  event  makes  a  person  hyper-vigilant  of  everything  around  them.  trauma  changes  the  way  you  wake  up  in  the  morning,  how  you  move  through  your  daily  routine,  how  you  walk,  talk,  think.  it  permeates  every  aspect  of  your  life  and  you  have  to  re-learn  how  to  function  ‘normally’  even  though  your  normal  has  changed.

a  long-term  effect  of  her  assault  is  that  jordan  does  not  trust  easily.  it  takes  her  a  while  to  ease  back  into  the  mindset  that  most  people  are  not  monsters  out  to  take  advantage  of  and  hurt  her,  and  even  when  she  does,  few  people  get  in  past  the  walls  she  has  carefully  constructed  to  keep  herself  safe  in  a  world  that  she’s  now  hyper-aware  is  anything  but.  as  a  naturally  charismatic  and  charming  person  who  knew  no  strangers,  she  wears  that  attitude  in  the  months  and  years  following  her  assault  like  a  second  suit      —      eventually  it  becomes  something  of  a  broken  limb  that  didn’t  heal  quite  right.  she’s  friendly,  but  at  arm’s  length.  she  doesn’t  tell  new  people  in  her  life  much  but  they  don’t  notice  because  everything  is  said  with  a  smile  and  a  tone  as  warm  as  a  summer  breeze.  you  think  you  know  more  when  you  know  very  little,  but  the  keen  observer  may  find  hints  and  clues  to  the  truth  in  the  way  she  glances  to  her  exit  points  in  the  room,  how  she  tenses  when  someone  innocently  lays  a  hand  on  her  shoulder  before  properly  greeting  her,  how  her  hands  never  move  off  her  drink.

one  of  her  first  thoughts,  if  not  the  first  thought  when  she  meets  someone  new,  is  every  possible  way  they  could  hurt  her.  she  doesn’t  intend  this      —      in  fact,  she  hates  it.  she  wishes  those  thoughts  didn’t  permeate  her  mind  at  every  turn.  she  tries  to  suppress  it  but  it  always  finds  a  way  to  worm  into  her  mind  and  take  root.  will  this  person  hit  me  if  they  get  too  angry?  will  they  stop?  will  they  not  stop?  how  can  I  defend  myself  if  I  need  to?  will  my  kickboxing  classes  be  enough?  can  I  get  my  mace  out  fast  enough?  should  I  use  this  glass?  the  lamp?  should  I  run?  she’s  hyper-aware  of  every  way  a  situation  can  turn  south  in  an  instant  and  it  plays  in  her  mind  in  the  space  of  a  few  seconds,  periodically  looping  itself  until  she’s  alone  again.

over  time,  that  thought,  that  voice,  even,  gets  softer  and  softer      —      never  quite  disappearing,  but  getting  tolerable,  like  everything  else  that  stuck  around  became  tolerable,  because  she  becomes  numb  to  it.

romantic  relationships  are  an  entirely  different  category.  jordan  and  elliot  were  never  together;  she  knew  him  for  years  and  prior  to  that  party,  never  had  a  strong  opinion  about  him.  he  was  a  boy  who  went  to  her  school,  played  on  the  football  team,  broke  school  records  like  it  was  nothing,  volunteered,  was  heavily  involved      —      they  crossed  paths  and  ran  in  the  same  social  circles,  and  he  was  always  decent  to  her.  nice,  even      —      until  that  party.

because  of  elliot,  jordan  is  extremely  aware  of  how  she  conducts  herself  around  romantic  interests,  the  opposite  sex  especially.  she  has  never  believed  that  what  happened  to  her  happened  because  of  anything  she’s  done,  but  that  doesn’t  change  the  fact  that  she’s  conscious  of  how  she  presents  herself,  carries  herself,  etc.  she  still  drinks  at  parties  but  limits  herself  to  one      —      one  beer,  one  wine  cooler,  one  cup.  she  always  gets  her  own  drink,  she  never  pours  from  an  already  opened  container,  and  she  always  keeps  it  on  her.  she’ll  flirt,  but  make  it  clear  where  the  boundary  is.  more  often  than  not,  she’ll  reject  the  invitation  for  a  first  date,  expressing  that  she’s  not  looking  for  a  relationship  right  now,  but  she’d  love  to  get  coffee  sometime.  it’s  genuine,  but  it’s  also  a  test      —      those  who  respond  well  make  it  to  the  next  round.  those  who  don’t  are  never  let  in  again.

she  almost  has  to  have  a  friendship  with  someone      —      a  trust  that  this  person  will  respect  the  boundaries  she  sets,  no  questions  asked      —      before  she  can  date  them.  rarely  does  anything  physical  beyond  a  hug  happen  on  the  first  date.  she’s  keen  on  protecting  herself,  something  she  tells  herself  is  good,  is  for  the  best,  when  she’s  not  asked  out  on  a  second  date.  they  didn’t  pass  the  test,  you  don’t  need  them.  they’re  not  ready  to  handle  this  pandora’s  box  of  skeletons  you  will  eventually  have  to  open  for  them.  you’re  not  ready  to  accept  that  maybe  you’re  not  meant  to  be  loved.

when  she  is  in  a  romantic  relationship,  it’s  at  a  point  where  she’s  secure  in  feeling  that  the  worst  this  person  can  do  is  leave.  they’ve  passed  every  test,  checked  every  box.  she  can  ease  into  the  comfort  of  being  hugged,  kissed,  touched    (  where  she’s  comfortable  )    without  spiraling.  this  person  is  more  than  a  significant  other      —      they’re  a  friend.  a  friend  she  can  trust  not  to  ask  too  many  questions,  not  to  dig  too  deep,  but  still  respect  her  wishes  where  intimacy  is  concerned.

eventually,  she  opens  up  about  what  happened  to  her.  with  friends,  it’s  when  they’ve  gained  her  full  trust,  proven  that  what  she  tells  them  won’t  be  thrown  back  into  her  face  in  an  argument,  won’t  be  used  as  leverage.  with  romantic  partners,  it  happens  in  a  similar  capacity.  sometimes  it’s  before  physical  and  sexual  intimacy;  sometimes  it’s  after.  it’s  always  difficult;  it  gets  easier  the  more  she  talks  about  it,  but  it  never  stops  being  difficult  in  some  capacity.  in  some  ways,  it’s  the  final  test      —      will  this  change  how  they  look  at  me?  speak  to  me?  will  this  make  them  look  for  reasons  to  leave?

that  last  question  is  the  scariest  for  her.  beyond  not  wanting  to  relive  this  horrible  thing  that  happened  to  her,  she  doesn’t  want  her  assault  to  define  her.  when  you  tell  people  you  were  assaulted,  that’s  the  first  thing  they  see  in  you.  eyes  fill  with  pity,  and  suddenly,  you’re  being  handled  with  kid  gloves  at  all  times,  as  if  you  might  shatter  if  something  is  said  or  done  that  treads  a  little  too  close  to  home.  it’s  humiliating,  almost  as  much  as  the  shame  of  being  assaulted.  she  always  stresses  that  she’s  progressed  because  she  can  talk  about  it,  open  up  about  it,  share  that  it  happened  and  that’s  why  she  is  the  way  that  she  is.  the  parts  of  herself  that  she’s  shared  up  to  that  point  still  exist,  are  still  her      —      this  is  just  the  final  piece.

morning after starters

“  last night was nice.  ” “  lets do this again some time.  ” “  i’ll leave my number.  ” “  i gotta go, sorry.  ” “  can’t you at least stay for breakfast?  ” “  i’ll make coffee—don’t go anywhere.  ” “  next time, maybe i’ll buy you dinner first.  ” “  if we do this again you better buy me dinner first.  ” “  i don’t think my legs work again yet.  ” “  i don’t wanna get up.  ” “  no don’t move, it’s too cold outside the covers.  ” “  there’s no way i can hide these marks…  ” “  this was probably a mistake.  ” “  this can’t happen again.  ” “  you always say that, and yet we wind up right back here.  ” “  are you watching me sleep?  ” “  you look cute all frazzled like this.  ” “  why are you looking at me like that?  ” “  keep kissing me like that and we’re gonna end up back in bed.  ” “  something wrong? ” “  i’d stay if i could, i promise.  ” “  so if i put my number in your phone, you actually gonna text me? ” “  i made breakfast.  ” “  how do you take your coffee?  ” “  fuck! i’m late—  ” “  did you turn the alarm off?  ” “  if you don’t turn that alarm off i’m gonna throw it out the window.  ” “  i can’t find my shirt.  ” “  babe, we slept in.  ” “  i know you’re awake.  ” “  i’ll stay.  ” “  why don’t you stay?  ” “  i like waking up with you.  ” “  i like having you here at night.  ” “  you know, if you moved in we wouldn’t keep having to say goodbye like this.  ” “  so when are we gonna actually go on a real date?  ” “  do i smell bacon?  ” “  you made pancakes?  ” “  come on, come back to bed.  ” “  you weren’t there when i woke up.  ” “  i thought you left.  ” “  do you want me to go?  ” “  just let me sleep for five more minutes.  ” “  you’re really beautiful/handsome. even if you drool.  ” “  you talk in your sleep, ya know.  ”  

ACTIONS:  1. for one muse to surprise the other with breakfast in bed 2. for our muses to go another round in the morning 3. for your muse to join mine in the shower while getting ready for the day 4. for one muse to stop the other from trying to sneak away 5. for one muse to invite the other to spend the rest of the day with them  6. for one muse to convince the other to stay in bed the rest of the day 7. for our muses to have sex in the kitchen instead of finishing breakfast 8. for our muses to spoon 9. for one muse to wake up with morning wood  10. for one muse to wake the other up with oral  11. for lazy morning sex  12. for one muse to wake the other because they’re having a nightmare  13. for one muse to distract the other from getting ready by kissing/groping them 14. for one muse to kick the other out of their home  15. for our muses to wake with no recollection of the night before  

CHORUS: Brave girl. KASSANDRA: People never say that to a lucky person do they

Agamemnon, Aeschylus (trans. Anne Carson)