R*pe Threats Aren't Random. They're A Pattern.

This is a serious one, but an important one.

The rebel kid on instagram posted all those screenshots, and YEARS of witnessing such comments flashed right before my eyes. I realized that every day I try to look at the internet with fresh eyes, and every day I end up feeling sick to my stomach.

So, I just had to get it out.

First, let’s talk about those sending the threats and those oh-so-casually condoning such violence.

R*pe threats are about power and control. NOT lust. NOT attraction. JUST power and dominance. These are people (often men) who feel threatened by someone’s visibility, someone’s confidence, someone’s refusal to conform, or simply someone’s audacity to take up space. For some, that threat to their ego or worldview triggers intense insecurity, or rage. Instead of dealing with that discomfort internally, they take it out. They lash out to silence or intimidate.

But why rape threats? Why that specific violence?

Because ours is a patriarchal society. Because non-consensual sex even between married people is not just an act of lust. It’s an assertion of dominance. It says: “What I say, goes. I can reduce you to nothing.” And when these people (again, mostly men) feel invisible, powerless, or emasculated in their own lives, threatening sexual violence becomes a twisted way to feel big again. It’s plain old displacement. Instead of punching a wall, they punch a live, breathing person’s safety.

Secondly, this behavior doesn’t happen in a vacuum.

It’s rooted in what we call rape culture. The normalization, minimization, and even humorization of sexual violence. Think “casual” misogynistic jokes, think unsolicited dick pics, think blaming victims for what they wore, or think treating a lack of basic emotional sensitivity as “men will be men”. These small, everyday things add up. They really do. They teach men that women’s discomfort is negotiable and unimportant.

Online anonymity adds another layer. The internet becomes a space where people feel emboldened to act out their worst selves without consequences. It’s a kind of disinhibition. These people would probably never say such stuff in real life, not directly to a woman’s face (they have their men-only groups for that). But behind a screen, the empathy switch flips off.

Thirdly, the impact on the person receiving these threats is profound.

This isn’t “just words”. Our brains interpret threats, virtual or real, as danger. The body reacts with real fear. Hypervigilance. Dissociation. Rage. Exhaustion. Some people become scared to be online. Others internalize the messages and start doubting their own safety, worth, or sanity. Some try to numb it all just to get through the day. That’s trauma. Plain and simple.

So what can we do? How do we respond to all this?

Ignoring them and not feeding the trolls is an option. But that option is outdated, dismissive, and doesn’t really change things. At least not at the bigger level.

Try-

1. Support: Check in on the person targeted. Validate the impact. Let them know that you’re with them.

2. Accountability: Call out the behavior. Report it. Teach others why it’s not okay.

3. Education: Keep unpacking what fuels this so that you make less and less excuses for people casually being misogynistic creeps.

4. Ask: What kind of a culture produces men who feel entitled to do this (or any kind of) violence?

The fact of the matter is, healing from this kind of abuse isn’t just about personal resilience. It’s about collective resistance. The more we name these behaviors for what they are — acts of domination rooted in entitlement and insecurity — the less space they’ll have to grow in silence.

And we must keep speaking up. Because silence isn’t neutral. It sides with the aggressor.