TW: rape, sexual assault
When I was recommended to watch Michaela Coel’s latest series I May Destroy You by a friend, I did not anticipate how the 12 part mini series would not only make me fall in love with her performance as (the protagonist) Arabella Essiedu but also make me reflect on the effects of trauma and victimhood. I was mid-series when I came across an article by Deborah Copaken on Emily in Paris, she wrote in the Guardian that I May Destroy You had been wrongly snubbed of a Golden Globe nomination. “That I May Destroy You did not get one Golden Globe nod is not only wrong, it’s what is wrong with everything” wrote Deborah Copaken.
The show has been praised for its candid portrayal of sexual assault and consent, and Michaela Coel’s brilliant story-telling in I May Destroy You has forced many to rethink the complexities surrounding the issue of consent, and what it means to heal when trauma has broken you open.
I May Destroy You is a British drama television series created, written, co-directed, and executive produced by Michaela Coel for BBC One and HBO. Set in London, it follows our heroine Arabella Essiedu - a charismatic, witty, messy writer whose life is turned upside down after being drugged and raped on a night out at a bar. Arabella’s memories return in fragments as she tries to make sense of her hazy and intermittent recollections. Ultimately, she accepts and confronts the images of the night as the terrible truth. This is followed by her attempt to work through the terrifying ordeal of her assault by undertaking therapy, focusing on her writing, and increasing her social media presence. Some of the other characters who fit alongside her social life include Terry (Weruche Opia), her best friend from childhood and an aspiring actress. Kwame (Paapa Essiedu), her handsome gay friend who is addicted to swiping on Grindr, and Ben (Stephen Wight), her good-natured, benign roommate.
The themes within the show’s discourse revolve around memory, time, and (spoiler alert) reality; painting an intense picture of Arabella’s assault and its aftermath. Her journey to acceptance forces her to reflect on relationships, work, use of social media, friends and family, and the way she chooses to take control of her narrative. Due to the series' interrelated topics and motifs, focusing on a singular aspect of the story may likely be a disservice to the myriad layered subtleties and nuances in the show. Each episode goes back and forth between past lived experiences and the present reality of her assault, exploring the complexities of trauma- both big and small. Stinging experiences unveil the ways in which Arabella and her best friends, Terry and Kwame, struggle to come to terms with various forms of trauma. From Arabella’s consensual sexual encounter with a fellow writer during which she was sexually assaulted and doesn’t comprehend till later, to her best friend Terry’s realisation that she had been conned into a threesome- the layered narrative lays bare the importance of consent in our daily lives.
Throughout the series we are shown Arabella’s tumultuous work-life, including where she is on a tight deadline to submit a draft which unfortunately coincides with her assault. This forces her to take a step back and reflect on her art, which ultimately transforms into a creative process, helping her heal.
In episode 7 she reads her agents a passage about discovering her femininity:
“Prior to being raped, I never took much notice of being a woman. I was busy being black and poor … The Bible says you cannot serve two masters. Am I too late to serve this tribe called women?”
This was drawn from an actual conversation Michaela Coel had while rehearsing a play in 2014. For those who don’t know, Coel has spoken openly about how she modelled Arabella’s ordeal on something similar that happened to her. While pulling an all-nighter drafting the second season of Chewing Gum (inspired by her play Chewing Gum Dreams) in 2016, she took a break to meet up with a friend at a bar where her drink was spiked and she was sexually assaulted. Watching I May Destroy You is like ‘entering a pool of Coel’s consciousness’. “As a fellow android exploring what it means to be human,” says Coel’s friend Janelle Monáe, “watching Michaela be vulnerable on-screen as she walks in her truth gives me and so many the bravery to walk in ours.”
In August 2018, she spoke publicly about her trauma while delivering the Edinburgh International Television Festival’s James MacTaggart Memorial Lecture. The lecture, which you can find on Youtube, had the audience enraptured by her phenomenal story-telling in which she described the racism and classism she endured on the way to that Edinburgh stage. She discussed her experiences as the creator and writer of Chewing Gum, and towards the end of the 50 minute lecture she discussed her assault and revealed the industry’s unwillingness to deal with such a ‘human emergency when pages are due’.
"There were so many different ways to explore consent and how it affects us today. What better place for a story than one that I felt many people could find an identification in?"
- Michaela Coel in an interview with NPR
We have all had to experience and bear trauma in one form or another at some point in our lives. I May Destroy You affirms that the trauma we carry with us- no matter how big or small- is something that should be addressed, recognised, and processed even if it makes us uncomfortable. Most importantly, it is a reminder to question the way we talk about the controversial boundaries of consent and the grey areas of rape culture which informs so much of our daily lives.
You can read about how the show has empowered sexual assault survivors here.
You can also find my article on the Fourth Floor's website:
Fourth Floor is a West London based collective dissecting the world and promoting young creatives across the globe.