Sexual Trauma and #MeToo in Idiots: Surviving the Unspeakable with Dark Humor
Introduction: The Unspoken Stories
In her memoir Idiots, Laura Clery dedicates an entire chapter — “Me Too, Though” — to the sexual trauma she left out of her first book. She writes that she was “too scared” to tell these stories before, and her sister Colleen’s gentle push finally gave her permission to share. The thematic claim of this analysis is that Clery uses dark, self-lacerating humor to expose the pervasiveness of sexual violence, the culture of silence that preceded #MeToo, and the messy reality that survivors are not always perfect victims. By laying bare her own assaults, her complicity in drugging her sister, and her questionable choices, she challenges the binary of innocent victim versus guilty predator and insists that shame can be dismantled through radical honesty.
Tracing the Trauma Across Three Key Episodes
1. The Basement Assault at Fifteen
At a house party in Downers Grove, a heavily intoxicated fifteen-year-old Laura is taken to a basement to “nap.” She wakes to find a nineteen-year-old unzipping her jeans. She hears his “aggressive panting” and freezes — a survival response she will repeat in later assaults. In that moment, she scans for an escape, then pretends to be awake and flirty, saying, “Oh, hey…” and later, “I just have to pee—I’ll be right back.” The ruse works, and she flees. She tells her friends but never reports the assault. The chapter notes that the “pre-#MeToo years were fucked up,” framing the silence as systemic.
This episode establishes Laura’s pattern: the freeze response, the use of deception to avoid escalation, and the deep shame that prevents her from seeking justice. She was afraid she would get in trouble — a chilling reflection of how girls are socialized to doubt their own victimization.
2. The Rape by “Lance” in the Marilyn Monroe Apartment
Years later, living in a Craftsman house once home to Marilyn Monroe, Laura befriends a man named Lance, who name-drops his famous brother. One morning she wakes to find Lance raping her. Again, she freezes: “If you’re capable of rape, you’re capable of murder.” She lies motionless, pretending to be asleep, until he finishes. She never tells anyone — not even her sister — paralyzed by shame and the belief that she would not be believed against the word of a celebrity’s brother.
This incident mirrors the first: Laura uses a passive strategy to survive, then internalizes the blame. She asks herself why she drank, why she flirted, why she slept on the couch. The #MeToo framework, she later realizes, was unavailable in that era. By including this story, Clery demonstrates how power imbalances and famous family connections enforce silence among survivors.
3. The GHB Incident and the Man Masturbating Over Her Face
The most shocking sequence involves Laura unknowingly taking GHB — the “date rape drug” — in tribute to her grandmother “Gamma Alice.” Later, she and her sister are at a restaurant with two men, Jared and his friend. Laura enthusiastically suggests slipping GHB into her sister Colleen’s drink, believing she is doing her a favor. After dinner, Colleen goes home, and Laura goes to Jared’s apartment. The next morning, she wakes to find Jared’s friend masturbating over her face. She freezes again, lets him finish, and then bolts.
This episode is especially complex because Laura herself becomes a perpetrator — she drugged her own sister. She acknowledges this as “one of the most shameful, horrific things” she has ever done. Here, Clery blurs the line between victim and enabler. Her addiction and naivety led her to commit an act that could have ended in assault for Colleen. The narrative refuses to let readers settle into a simple “good victim” story. Instead, it forces us to sit with the discomfort of a survivor who also caused harm.
Character and Symbol Connections
Laura’s character arc throughout the book is about moving from silence to voice. In her younger years, she was an addict seeking numbness and external validation. Her husband Stephen represents stability and unconditional support — he never shames her for her past. Her sister Colleen plays a crucial role: she is both a witness (at the Frenchman’s party, the GHB dinner) and the person who insists Laura tell the truth. Colleen’s forgiveness becomes a model for self-forgiveness.
The symbol of the safe word “ballsack” appears in the birth chapter, where Laura screams it during unmedicated labor. While not directly linked to sexual trauma, the safe word represents the ability to reclaim power through language — to say “stop” when pain is unbearable. In the assault scenes, Laura cannot speak; she freezes. The birth story shows her later learning to ask for what she needs, a skill that contrasts sharply with her younger silence.
The vultures in Chapter 10 appear as symbols of fear that must be transformed into lessons about love. Though the vulture scene is about anxiety and autism, the same principle applies to trauma: the scavengers that once fed on her shame become teachers if she chooses to see them differently.
Complexity and Contradiction: The Imperfect Survivor
Clery does not flinch from her own culpability. She drugged her sister. She stole a celebrity’s driver’s license. She lied and manipulated to survive. These acts make her an untidy narrator, but that is precisely the point. The #MeToo movement often showcases sympathetic victims whose stories are clean — no complicity, no moral gray areas. Clery’s confession that she “date-rape-drugged” Colleen (even without knowing the drug’s reputation) disrupts that narrative. She writes, “I know now it’s twisted and SO fucked up, but at the time I felt like I was doing her a favor.”
This honesty invites readers to examine their own judgments. Can a person who has been assaulted also be an assailant? Can shame coexist with the demand for justice? Clery suggests that healing requires acknowledging the full, ugly picture. She does not excuse her past; she exposes it.
Study Questions and Answers
1. How does Clery’s use of dark humor affect the reader’s understanding of her trauma?
The humor creates distance, allowing Clery to narrate horrific events without becoming overwhelmed. Phrases like “unwanted dicks” or “Queen of the Unwanted Dicks” defuse the horror while also underscoring the absurd frequency of assault. At the same time, the humor does not erase the pain; it makes the pain more bearable to discuss.
2. Why does Clery include the story of drugging her sister, Colleen, in the same chapter as her own assaults?
By placing her own perpetration alongside her victimization, Clery refuses to present herself as a pure victim. She demonstrates that survivors can be complex, flawed people who have also caused harm. This challenges the binary of “good” versus “bad” victims and invites readers to consider how addiction and naivety can lead to destructive choices.
3. What role does the freeze response play in Laura’s survival strategy, and how does it contrast with the #MeToo message of speaking out?
Freezing is a biologically adaptive response to danger, but it also carries intense shame — survivors often blame themselves for not fighting back. Clery explicitly names the freeze each time, normalizing it. She shows that speaking out can take years, and that the eventual telling is an act of courage, not a failure to have spoken sooner.
4. How does the symbol of the “safe word” from the birth chapter relate to the powerlessness Laura feels during her assaults?
During childbirth, Laura has the agency to scream “ballsack” and receive help. During the assaults, she cannot speak. The safe word represents the voice she lacked as a young woman. Her journey toward recovery involves reclaiming agency and learning to ask for help — a skill she had to develop through therapy and sobriety.
5. In what ways does the chapter “Me Too, Though” complicate the idea of a “survivor story”?
The chapter presents multiple assaults, but also includes Laura’s perpetration against Colleen and her theft of a celebrity’s ID. It refuses to simplify her into a heroic survivor. Instead, it offers a raw portrait of how shame, addiction, and youth can entangle a person in both victimization and harmful behavior. The story suggests that true healing requires owning every part of the past, not just the parts that earn sympathy.