A Letter to My Children About Fifty Shades of Grey

[Tuesday Afternoon]

http://www.bonbonbreak.com/letter-children-fifty-shades-grey/

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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.

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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.

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