Trigger warning: sexual assault.
**Spoilers below**
“I May Destroy You”, does exactly what the title implies. To say that “I May Destroy You” has taken me by surprise is an understatement. It hasn’t taken me by surprise in the way of not knowing Michaela Coel is an ultimate genius and kween, but more so emotionally and mentally. When first watching a preview of the show I had no idea what it was about. I was drawn to it solely by Michaela Coel (basically anything she does, I am a viewer). She’s refreshing in a way a cold glass of water with lemon is on winter morning in a hot ass small new york apartment with an uncontrollable heater.
Arabella (Michaela Coel) is a woman who is dealing with the pain, anger, and residual grief that has followed her since she was sexually assaulted. She is then sexually assaulted a second time by a trusted coworker, who becomes her partner, and must deal with that in tandem. On “I May Destroy You” Coel explores the nature of sexual assault, while examining the way sexual assault is viewed and perpetrated differently by men and women.
The show examines the complexities of sexual assault, race, veganism, gender, feminism, social media, mental health and sexuality all in 12 episodes. Michaela Coel walks the line between too much and not enough before boldly crossing it. Take for instance, a scene in episode 3, when Terry and Arabella were in Italy and they meet a drug lord. Right before Arabella is about to engage in consensual sex, she tells him she’s on her period. What follows is the drug lord pulling out her tampon and discovering a blood clot while fingering her. This scene not only made me cringe, but made me wonder why it’s such a big taboo — having sex while menstruating.
Another important theme throughout the series is memory and the way in which trauma affects what we choose to remember and why. Arabella is constantly haunted and bombarded by scenes from the night of her first sexual assault. She also becomes aware of what triggered her memory loss when attending her mother’s birthday. At the party, she realizes she can’t remember her aunt. She finally remembers as a young girl she found her aunt was having an affair with her father. The memory loss surrounding her aunt was so traumatizing to her, she completely forgot who her aunt was.
Throughout the season, I began to question my sanity and examined my own sexual history. In a scene in the very beginning of the series, Arabella is unaware that she had been assaulted at all her second time. The only reason she finally understands the gravity of the situation is while listening to a podcast in which a woman shares her same experience and defines it as assault. During sex with her colleague, he pulled off the condom in the middle of sex. He then lied to her about it, saying that he used a condom. I can count on both my hands how many times I’ve heard from friends something similar happening to them and I was upset over it, but I began to think how would you report that to the police and what are the consequences for the perpetrator? And is our justice system set up to help protect survivors in that way?
Meanwhile Arabella’s best friend Terry, was sexually manipulated by two guys in Italy. She took part in the threesome, where she was led to believe both men were strangers. She later finds out that was not the case.
That scene and so many others really put in perspective how far and deep consent goes, and the issues of people having intercourse and not respecting their sex partners boundaries. It’s unsettling if you take a second to really mull it over. Consent doesn’t just involve both people agreeing to have sex with one another at the start; consent should be upheld until the very end of the encounter. And that encounter can end abruptly if one person changes their mind. Both people should be fully aware of what is happening, what is being used in terms of contraception and protection, and what each person expects from the other.
Which brings me to another part of the show that really made me think. Kwami, Arabella’s gay male friend was also assaulted. He then decides to try having sex with a woman because he believes it would help him sort out his feelings about sex. He meets a woman online and neglects to tell her he is gay. He then has sex with this woman and tells her only after their encounter and a subsequent disagreement that he is homosexual. This instance challenges our ideas of what is traditionally considered to be assault.
As an audience we are forced to confront the society in which we live in is not one that protects its victims, but expects them to live with their assault and pain and deal with it; whether that be with more sex or therapy. While Arabella gets no justice for her initial assault, she battles her demons with her writing and finds some solace in a survivors’ support group and therapy. She works through her pain and seems to come to terms with it. The perpetrator of her second assault is blasted as she reveals him at a book reading in a room full of publishers and people with cell phones. Although everyone on the internet has seen his face and knows what he has done, her publisher, who is a woman, still gives him a book deal under the guise of a woman named Della.
As for Kwami, he never gets justice for his sexual assault. The woman he assaulted also never gets justice after what he had done to her.
I can’t deny the tears I cried and the conflicting feelings I had watching this wonderfully written show, but I also can’t deny the change I felt watching it. Not everything in life is black and white, but rainbow-colored in its complexities. The police do what they can, sometimes not enough, and justice is not always served. Coel’s character development for the protagonist and supporting characters was more than most shows can do in two seasons.
“I May Destroy You” is riveting, raunchy and haunting in its portrayal of rape culture. I can’t deny I’m excited to see what she has up her sleeve for season 2 (if there is one).
