Kajsa

This is not about everyday sexism in the form that we usually experience. It’s about rape and how important it is to not only stand up for our bodies but show the world that this happens every day and that most of these incidents doesn’t even come up to the surface since the charges are usually dropped and ignored, because of the slim chance that it could be a lie. Disgusting. I met Adam for the first time when i was 13, by that time he was 16 and we started walking our dogs together a few nights. After the first week of hanging out i decided to finally accept his offer and watch a movie with him at his place. I had never even kissed a boy before this so i was fairly nervous. He wanted us to lie in his bed while watching some scary movie, which context i have no memory of since i was so nervous. We kissed and i felt so happy, because now i’d done it. Unfortunately he did not aim for the same goal and therefore started moving his hand down to my breasts and then further down. Although i was not at all comfortable with him touching my breasts, i still let him, but when it came to my other personal area i was strong enough to say no. Once wasn’t enough though. After about 7 no’s from my part he finally gave up and i went home. Of course i told my friends about it all, but left out the not-so-romatic part where i had to repeatedly refuse his hand. News travels fast in my small town and he heard that i’d told some friends, so due to the fact that the age difference made it illegal he broke all contact with me. He was my first crush and for some reason i always kept my interest in him. He contacted me from time to time during the years and a few times we bumped into each other. Every time i started to gain my respect for myself again he would appear and as rehearsed, my respect and limits went out the window. I was so desperate for his approval. Despite the fact that he would call me fat, call me ugly, call me gross, i stayed… in hope for that one moment where he would look at me and make the effort to pay me one compliment, the compliment that made it all worth it. Even when i was at his house a couple years after our first kiss, and he told me to suck his dick or i would be thrown out of the house, i stayed. Even when he sat on my arms with his knees so hard that i couldn’t move to keep me from refusing him, i stayed. He kept asking me to have sex with him, and i said no every time he asked. His friend was in the house and even though i was aware that Adam didn’t have any kind of restrain, i did, so i kept pushing him away. He disappeared for a while and returned with a condom in his hand. That was when i realised that this person will do what he wants to do at any price. He walked up to me and i kept refusing him. He took of his pants and underwear and put on the condom, while i kept saying that i won’t have sex with him. It all happened so fast. He didn’t even take of my shorts, he just slipped them to the side and entered me. A bit of me disappeared after that, and more pieces have fallen during the years. Pieces i can’t take back. October 2015- My friends were excited about what to do on my birthday. I had just returned from my summer in Barcelona and with other incidents behind me effecting my mood, i told them that i didn’t want to celebrate my birthday this year. As expected, they succeeded to persuade me into going to a club on the night before the big day. Man, i wish i wouldn’t have. The night went by smoothly and i started to drag myself home. See, i live in a small town outside of the city so i have to take the train for about 20 minutes before i can start my relatively long walk home. So there i was, alone at the train and basically as drunk as one can be without passing out, when i see him. Adam was further back in the train with his friends and allowed me one glance and a smile. Of course he would never walk up to me while talking to his friends so i didn’t think much more of it. -Until the train stopped at our station and he was one of the few, me included, that got off. Now that his friends wasn’t there, he could grace me with his valuable company and attention. We started talking. I was still very very drunk. Therefore i thought that it was a good idea to give him a ride on my bike. God, you guys, i can’t even tell you how many times i’ve told the course of events after we got off the train, in various ‘hearings’. And after you’ve done that, you start to question everything. Every smile, every look, every word. Did i do anything to cause this myself? Was it my fault? We where on our way from the station, laughing, having fun, and then it all started again. The infinite nagging. It was like i was 15 again and as insecure as i remember myself to be. He tried to kiss me, which i first refused but after i while i gave in and we started making out. I was well aware that i was on my period and at that time had a tampon inside of me, so whether he nags or not, or i give in or not, he can’t have sex with me anyway. This made me feel safe. He couldn’t do it no matter how much he tried to convince me. And it wasn’t my fault, since i can’t control natures course, so he can’t be mad at me for refusing. We were in a tunnel in the middle of my town and we were kissing. As expected, he started to touch me in places you shouldn’t without permission. I had already started to feel uncomfortable. But with a relief in my voice i told him that we were not going to have sex since i was on my period. But something was wrong, because he didn’t stop. I kept telling him that it wasn’t going to happen but he still ignored me and told me that he doesn’t care about my period, that he’s cool with it. I started to understand that my safe reason, my argument wasn’t strong enough. I was so scared, of myself, of him, of the situation. It was about 5 am, also known as my birthday. With one movement he managed to pull apart every single button on the skirt i was wearing. He turned me face against the wall and pulled down my tights. Everything happened remarkably quickly. He entered me although i’ve said no a ridiculous number of times, yet again. At this point i lost all hope. All i could think about was how i deserved it and how disgusting i was. It was as if i’d left my body right there and then. My hope on everything just vanished the second his disgusting male organ had made it’s way inside of me. But at that same second something happened. I reentered my own consciousness and the voices inside of my head screamed that i had to stop this, this wasn’t right. I then knew that if this man gets to finish his assault, complete it, then i wouldn’t be able to live with myself again. It was that life-threatening ultimatum that made me turn around and bite his lip until i felt my teeth sink into his skin. As i let go of his bottom lip i saw two drops on blood running down his chin. It started more or less flowing blood down the same track of his chin as the first two drops. He stood still and regarded me. In his eyes i could see the same disgust and hate that i for so many years had looked at myself with. He no longer liked me, i could see it. For one second i was afraid that the man who’s staring at me with a look filled with loathing in an amount that i’ve never seen before, was going to hit me. He would hit me for making him bleed. But at that same second, he pulled his pants up and walked up the stairs of the tunnel and left. I started crying. I hunched against the wall and sat down on the dirty ground. Honestly i have no memory of how long i was in that tunnel, or why i stayed. Maybe it was the fear of meeting him again. I started walking towards my house while trying to cope with what just happened. My friend lives next to me so i decided to knock on her window and for once, be honest about exactly everything that happened. She told me to come inside and tell me why i was sad. I couldn’t get my words out because of the crying, but eventually i managed to explain and she called our other friend who told us to come to her place. Once we were there, they both sat me down and calmly told me that they were going to call the police who’s just going to come over and ask a few questions. I refused. He, the man that i had sacrificed my self respect for, was never going to talk to me again if i charge him with rape. Rape. I couldn’t even utter the word. It was so surreal. My friends knew who he was and what he was capable of, and used that as an argument. They both tried to explain that if not for my sake, charge him in sake of the future victim that will fall for his manipulation. This made me act. Do what every woman that has been violated should do. Call the police. I spent most of that day at a hospital while being wished a happy birthday. That visit was painful both physically and mentally, not to mention how it feels to have someone use a tool to drag out a tampon from my insides that had managed to get pushed so far inside of me that you couldn’t reach it using only your fingers. This visit was followed by further more interrogations. Adam was picked up by the police and had to spend two nights in custody. Do i even need to inform you that his side of the story was so far from my perception of the event that it was on the verge to ridiculous. Apparently ”biting is my thing”, that’s why his lip was swollen. So let me ask you, who do you think the male investigator trusted? Not only did i make the very hard decision to charge a man i’ve known for a big part of my life. I also spent a day in a hospital. I went through the incredibly emotional and humiliating experience of telling my mother why i wasn’t there to open my presents that morning and why two investigators was going to come to our house later that night. Despite all of this, and more, i got rejected due to the fact that ”there wasn’t enough evidence.” Apparently a busted lip, a vaginal damage and a very odd sexual history of the accused, wasn’t enough. Here’s the thing that upsets me the most. There’s this guy that has treated women like meat for his whole life. He has been using them and done the same thing to them as he has to me. This i know for a fact. He aims for the weak, the ones that he knows won’t press charges. His only fear in this rape game that he calls life is if he would abuse some girl who will pull it together, reclaim her own body and go to the police. Because the law is on the victims side, not the predator, right? Then he would finally get to pay for his actions. And then that day comes. It happened to be me. I did it. I went to the police. And what is this rapists penalty? Two nights in custody. After that, he goes back to his job as a primary school teacher, hangs out with his friend, doesn’t even have to tell a soul about what happened that weekend if he wishes.

Jag (kvinna)

Varje år när räkningen för underhåll av vägen upp till huset kommer från markägaren så står det vår ref: ägarens namn (man såklart) er ref: min sambo (också man) När jag betalar räkningen sätter jag mitt namn som referens. Undrar hur lång tid det ska ta att bli fullvärdig delägare till mitt hus, också i andras ögon?!?

Anonym

I våran klass pratade vi om religioner och några killar satt och “skämtade” om att de borde bli muslimer för då “har man rätt att ha sex när man vill” och alla skrattade. Det värsta är att vi bara går i sjunde klass.

Valeriya

Jag och mamma var på väg till ett öppet hus på NTI gymnasium, det var någonstans i december 2016 och jag var bara 15 år. Vi var på väg till gymnasiet, åkte tunnelbana, det var sen kväll och de flesta var på väg hem från t.ex. jobbet, så det var väldigt trångt och det fanns väldigt lite plats. Där stod jag med min mamma vid en av dörrarna och försökte att stå så stadigt som möjligt och ge plats åt andra människor, och där stod han, den lilla gamla gubben, svartgrå hår, solbänd hy, ovårdade kläder stod väldigt nära mig, vilket jag trodde berodde (bland annat, inser jag senare) på att det var lite plats. Jag stod där och småpratade med mamma, väntade på att vi skulle gå av tåget. Det var då jag kände hur en hand sakta men säkert trevade ned till den delen av mina byxor där rumpan befann sig och försökte röra där. Som tur var hade jag på mig lite mer lösa byxor som åkte ned hela tiden, de gjorde att han bara rörde tyget, men jag kände det, kände försöket till att röra min rumpa. Så klart vände jag mig om och tittade runt, tittade på mannen som försökte låtsas som ingenting. Det var väl ett misstag tänkte jag, strunta i det, sånt händer utan att folk menar att göra sådant, det är ju så trångt att man kan knappt röra sig. Men då kände jag den där jävla handen igen, lite mer självsäker men ändå försiktig. Då förstod jag att det inte va ett misstag, bara en olyckshändelse, HAN FÖRSÖKTE ATT TAFSA PÅ MIG! Som ni kanske förstår så blev jag chockad, för jag hade aldrig blivit utsatt för något liknande tidigare. Jag flyttade närmare mamma. Hon kollade upp på mig, lite misstänksam, och frågade: -Är allt okej? Jag, chockad som jag var sa att allt var bra, att jag bara ville göra rum åt andra resenärer. Hon frågade ingenting mer och redan nästa station skulle vi gå av, dagen/kvällen fortsatte och jag hade det väldigt kul, tänkte inte mer på det. Enda till ett par veckor senare då jag började tänka på det och det var då känslorna kom ned krasande. Jag kände mig kränkt, äcklad, rädd, förfärad. Hela den dagen grät jag och övervägde om jag skulle tala om det för någon eller inte, jag hade trots allt inte sagt något på en väldigt lång tid, men till slut, när jag duschade, beslöt jag mig för att säga det till mamma. Sakta men säkert började jag att ta upp det, dock hann jag inte komma till saken och började att gråta. Så klart blev hon orolig och ville veta vad som hade hänt och jag försökte att tala om det för henne mellan mina gråtattacker. Men gud vad chockad jag blev av vad hon sade till mig, för hon hade förstått vad den där gubbjäveln hade försökt göra, hon sa något i stil med: -Var det bara det, det kommer att hända dig många gånger i framtiden. Hon var inte elak på något sätt, bara van, som om hon visste att det skulle hända och det var det. Gud vad fel det var, hur kunde han göra det, hur GÖR andra detta och MER? Varför händer det inte bara mig, varför ? Det borde inte hända, det SKA INTE hända någon! Enda sedan denna dag har jag blivit mer försiktig, har till och med kommit på vad jag ska göra om någon försöker göra något liknande, jag ska skrika åt aset att sluta, se till att alla kan se och höra vad ett sådant as gör, polisanmäla. Och det är något som alla som blir utsatta för sexuella tackraserier borde göra, jag vet att det är svårt, men så mycket bra kan komma från att säga till om sexuella tackraserier. Så jag ber er som läser att prata om det här, att faktiskt visa att detta är ett verkligt problem som kan hända och HÄNDER ALLA hela tiden, något som skadar så många, skärrar dem för livet. Jag ber er som har varit med om sådant, tala ut, det kommer att hjälpa även om det inte verkar som det.

J

Ett minne: Ett gäng vita svenssonsnubbar, i Borås på sportbar utsatte mig. Jag stod och snacka med några kollegor och plötsligt kände jag en hand som kom in under min kjol och försökte pressa in en ölflaska i mitt underliv – så hårt att det gjorde ont (dagen efter = blåmärke). Jag vände mig om fort och såg att en snubbe, som satt vid bordet bakom mig, drog undan sin hand med ölflaskan och att alla hans snubbpolare skrattade samman med honom. Jag blev häpen och vände mig åter till mina kollegor. Funderade på hur jag skulle hantera detta, kollegorna hade inte sett vad som skedde, så jag blev osäker på om jag skulle tappa ansikte inför kollegorna om jag röt ifrån till dessa snubbar – tänkte att kollegorna kanske inte skulle förstå vad som hade skett och trott att jag var instabil (jag hade ju just börjat jobba samman med dem). Då kom den flaskan in under min kjol igen, denna gången pressades den ännu djupare och snubbarna skrattade högt. [Redacted by administrator]

Hanna

Mina erfarenheter av vardagssexism yttrar sig som allra tydligast när jag umgås med män. Jag får t.ex. inte lov att bara tunga saker, för hur ska det då gå med mina små handleder, undrar männen. Dom får det att låta som omtanke men i själva verket handlar det alltid om att jag då kränker deras manlighet när jag kan göra saker som dom kan. När jag ber om att få bära eller lyfta tunga saker, då släpper dom ALLT istället och det som vi skulle hjälpts åt med från början får jag istället bära helt själv. Jag ska alltså straffas för att jag vill hjälpa till och inkräktar på ”deras” sysslor. Konsensus blir: Antingen bär jag som kvinna ingenting (vilket mannen föredrar oftast) eller så får jag ta allt. ”Normal” belastning är det aldrig tal om.

Lyser

When I was 13 and was graduating middle school and getting on summerbreak, Ive always lived with my mom and siblings and this day my dad and my grandma and his husband coming visiting. My grandmas husband has always been an unpleasant man to women and children, almost everybody thought this but my dad and my grandma. But it was like this big secret that couldnt get out. He had looked at me innapropriate before, and said things like “you get prettier and prettier for everyday” and “you can come sit on my lap if you want” things that i never really liked. So we all knew to stay away kinda. I remember when i was even younger, about 10-11 that before we were going over to my grandmas house that i looked in the mirror and saw that my nipples were showing trough my dress. So i said to my mom “What if he will look at me with that dirty look now”. Back to the day were i was 13 and got on summerbreak. Everything were fine, we te cake and chatted. Then when there were time for them to leave, my dad and grandma got out to the car before my grandmas husband did, and my mom went to the restroom i think. So i was alone with him. We said our goodbyes and hugged goodbye like we usually did. Only this time he grabbed my book while doing it. It wasnt super obvious or violent, but enough for me too notice and get shocked about it. I didnt say anything and just smiled and said goodbye. When my mom later came back from the restroom I told her. I was i bit shocked and disturbed, but i was truly fine at the moment and just went on about my day. But any other time where we visited i tended to get this knott in my tummy, feeling a bit gross. I tried too keep away from him, not sitting too close too him etc. But it got the the point where i didnt really want to meet him at all. My 14 birthday came up, and i got a lot of anxiety over that i knew they would come and celebrate it with me. I wanted to meet my dad and grandma ofc, but just not him. I told my mom i didnt want too see him. At first she said “cant you just stay away from him?” but i still said i didnt want too. She listened too me and had my back to 100%, and called them to say what have happend and that my dad and grandma were invited but that i didnt want to meet him. Story short, my grandma didnt believe me. Her husband says he didnt do it. And my dad im not sure. He ended up on their side, and i broke off contact with them for many years. Anytime they tried to reach me it was either ” think about the family, we dont understand what you mean” or just straight noncense trying too pretend nothing was going on. I were so heartbroken and felt so alone, and there were times were i thought that i might have blown it out of proportion and made it worse than what it was, and that it was my fault. That i had destroyed my relationship with them. even tho i had my mom and loving people around me. I still dont have contact with my grandma or her husband (im 20 years old now) and i rarely speak to my father, since every time we do speak he disappoints me and he can never speak about what happened. Ive given him chances, but he just never changes.I was angry for so many years and im probably still a bit angry, but now i understand more about that my dad and my grandma is victims of his manipulation and sick behaviours too, and they dont know how to get out of it.(im sorry for any spelling errors).

Lyser

I dont remember how old i was but around 14-15. My boyfriend and I were in the same class and so was his close 2 friends. At first they liked me, but later on they thought i took my boyfriend away too much from them (wich i can understand why, but it doesnt make their behaviour okay) so they started teasing me and being mean. On of them particulary were the one starting everything and getting the others to join and be mean to me. He usually called me a whore, gross, ugly and so on. He also used to push me, slam his shoulder into mine, trip me over with his feet so that i would fall too the ground, ask my boyfriend how he could be with me etc. At first it was just teasing and games, i did call him names aswell and hit him if he hit me. But then it resulted in the things I mentioned above. When it was at it worst i didnt even want to go too school, since no one really stood up for me (accept my boyfriend who tried multiple times) and just said “just ignore him”, well how do you ignore someone who pushes you or steals your things? I tried ignoring him, but it only got worse. Two incidents i remember clearly tho happened early on when i was 13-14. Me and my boyfriend just got together and since he was my first ever boyfriend we kinda discovered love together as kids do. I didnt know him or his friends super well by then, and i remember that we had recess and sat in my boyfriends room playing videogames together the three of us. by this time we all were kinda friends, and he hadnt really began to hate me as hardcore yet. Then i remember him go up to were i was sitting, and grabbing my boobs. I was so shocked and didnt say i word, he started laughing and moved away. My boyfriend asked him to leave and i think he did. He later on told me it was a bet and that he got money for doing it. When i look back at it im mad at myself for not standing up for myself, but i understand why i didnt. Not very long after this guy did the same thing, we were standing in the hallway i was maybe around 14, and he just ran up to me and grabbed my boobs again. This time i got really mad and screamed and told him off, and my boyfriend pulled him to the side and told him to stop. But like this time i didnt really think much about it afterwards, but it sure affected me more than i thought it did. I cant remember if he said that he was sorry or not, he only ever said he did it as a bet. Until this day i dont want to be in the same room as him, even tho he had made an attempt at saying sorry through my boyfriend saying that he was immature and just pissed cus i took his bestfriend away from him. But nothing specific. I do get that, but i still dont think hes the type of person i would want to have in my life, and i cant take that sort of apology to heart. Today im 20 years old.

E

Jag gick för att bada häromdagen, badet ligger bara 15 minuter promenad bort i centrala Stockholm. Klockan var 21 och jag höll mig till stora gator. När jag gick ner för Igeldammsgatan såg jag en man på den klippiga sidan gatan helt klädd i svart, han hade på sig svart huvtröja och svarta långbyxor vilket var udda då det var nästan 30 grader varmt. Jag gick över på andra sidan gatan och såg att han hade gylfen nerdragen och blottade sig. Han stod och tittade in i lägenheterna i ett av bostadshusen och runkade. Han tittade även på mig och runkade. Jag skyndade mig ner för gatan och närmade mig en grupp som stod och rökte för att berätta vad som hänt och be om hjälp att ringa polisen. När mannen såg mig prata med gruppen lunkade han långsamt iväg nerför gatan som om ingenting hade hänt. Det kändes hemskt och jag är rädd för att gå ut på kvällen. Jag har många gånger sett män blotta sig och runka inne i stan hela min uppväxt men det blir aldrig mindre traumatiskt eller skräckinjagande. Detta är ett eskalerande beteende för sexualförbrytare.