(Sorry bad English) Warning, mentioning rape. This has bothered me for years. We were about 20 years old and a guy told this story at a party. He and some pals were on a cruise and found two willing women they took (is this a word?) to their room. The guy telling the story had sex and fell asleep. His friend apperently could not get it up. So the story went: Suddenly I woke up and this other girl is riding me… The guy looked a little bit unsure when he said that and a little bit like he should be proud… He got a lot of “woohoo” and pats on the back. I was very uneasy and said nothing. (Therefore the regretts) Ten years later and I’m still thinking about this guy being raped in his drunken sleep. I wish I had not been so shy. Why diden’t I speak up? Maybe it would have made a difference to this guy if someone acknowledged how wrong this was? I guess many guys (women too) prefere to think of them selfs as studs and not weak and being abused. But GOD DAMN IT WAS RAPE! and nobody really cared cause the victim wasen’t what you expected. And sure… when you started reading… diden’t you think something was going to happen to the women? We are all guilty of sexism and I love this site for existing.
yesterday I was driving and waiting to turn right into car park , with a car blocking the entrance to car park. so i waited.2 or three cars behind me. i waited patiently to turn into the car park whilst my girls went to buy some sandwiches etc for lunch. i told them i would wait in car park. so i waited in line to turn in. car three behind me (open top, single male driver) over took the line (which was fine) bu then pulled along side me and said “are you fucking stupid you fucking stupid bitch? What the fuck do you think you are doing? You stupid fucing bitch’ I knew i had done nothing wrong so smiled back and said i am just queuing . ” you stupid fucking bitch don’t you know how to drive?’. Blessing: my daughters were not there; and an older female driver came up to me once i was in the carpark to say: ‘wasn’t he a completely awful man? At least he is going to have an awful day because he is so stressed and we are laughing about him !’ 🙂
in the last 24 hours I have had three things happen, one I was walking to the train station reading my book and this guy fells entitled enough to yell “FUCK, your beautiful” at me, this is not a compliment and it scares me so I put down the book and walk faster. Second I sit down on the bus and the group of guys behind me starts talking about how vaginas are gross and how they would never do oral and how “:you just need to shove fingers up there” so I move to the front of the bus so I don’t have to here this but their loud enough for me to here at the other end of the bus. Third I’m on my long board just enjoying being outside and this guy drives by and yells “Fat Ass” at me. not that it matters but I’m 145 pounds that’s not “fat” that was just one day.one freaking day
I’ve been catcalled to on the street during the day and at night, touched inappropriately at parties and on dates, called ‘vanilla’ because I’m sexually inexperienced and been told that I’m abnormal because I have prestigious career goals. I’m expected to keep it to myself and allow these things to happen. But it hurts when you’re viewed as a thing and not a person, placed in a box with a gender stereotype and given value based on your physicality rather than personality.
I got off the bus and it was is less minute walk home. I was in jeans, baggy sweatshirt and with a beanie. I crossed the street and I noticed a car slowing down, looking over there is two guys in their car pursing their lips and sending “air kisses” at me. I walked away because it was so out of the blue and I didn’t know what to do.
I’m 15, and I remember clearly one of the most infuriating cases of sexism I have experienced so far in my life. I’m standing in a queue outside a shop with a friend at lunch time, and two boys behind me start saying “I dare you to grab her ass” and laughing. These boys are in the same year as me at my school. I was afraid, confused as to who the comment was directed at (my friend or myself?) and I was shaking. Turning to my friend, I silently asked her if she was okay and if she wanted to leave. She shook her head and so we stayed. The comments prevailed, and my friend (she’s gay) was upset at some of the homophobic comments that they were throwing our way. Once we had bought our lunch, fuming, I turned round to face the boys and said “You should shut your mouth, neither of you have the right to say these things. Until you (i pointed at one of them who was overweight) stop eating so many doughnuts, tubby, and you (I pointed at the other, who suffered from acne) get your spotty face cleared up, don’t either of you talk s**t about anyone again”. I recognise now that what i said was derogatory and is something I would be embarassed to ever say now, but in the moment it felt fantastic and I didn’t know how to react properly. They were left speechless and my friend, though badly shaken, was smiling. Since then, neither of the boys have made another comment towards either of us. I didn’t recognise it as sexist at the time, all i knew is that it was wrong. A year later and I’ve learned so much more about feminism and I’m so thankful for pages like this for letting people open up about their sexist experiences. May we all continue to support and help one another ♡ Sending Love to you all, An Angry Teen Feminist xx
I live in the UK where a women was on the radio last week claimed that there’s no sexism in the UK anymore because gender equality is enshrined into law….I hope she’s reading right now. Today, whilst driving to the shops there I was involved in an extremely minor traffic incident travelling (a minor scrape at 5mph) on the way into the underground car park. The other driver followed me in, I parked up where there were a number of spaces expecting him to park next to me in order to review the damage to determine if it needed to be an insurance job; he didn’t and instead parked across the way. I got out to review the damage (minor scratches that will polish out) he checked his car out then came over to look at mine as started to offer my details for the insurance he challenged me and accused me of being reckless so I asked why he was parked on a no parking zone in an oversized vehicle, then he flipped and completely changed his attitude and he started pacing up and down screaming ‘people like you should not be driving, you’re the ones that cause all the trouble and shouldn’t be allowed on the road’ the insinuation being that ‘people like you’ meaning ‘women’. He became increasingly aggressive continuing with saying that I was stupid and incompetent because I was a women, that not only did I not need to retake my driving test, I shouldn’t be allowed to drive at all. It was at this point I realised I was alone, in an unlit underground car park albeit in the middle of the day with an increasingly aggressive well built older man all because I was involved in a minor traffic accident that he’d already admitted caused no damage to his car. Thankfully as I started to think about how to escape another lady appeared and stood between us and asked me if I was ok and started to talk directly to me ignoring him, when we removed the attention from him he moved on after a little bit more verbal abuse. I explained to her what had happened she laughed and said ‘men like that usually get aggressive because the you’re right and you called him out on it; he was mentally transferring his fault onto you because he could not even consider being wrong to a group in society that he hates’ and she was right; because I was one born one of the 52% he considered the lesser sex, that I had correctly challenged him he could only resort to aggressive, abusive behaviour. I still needed my shopping but I could not risk him coming back with others to damage me or my car so I drove off in floods of tears and sat in the next car park until I pulled myself together. I got my shopping came home, all I want now is a large G&T but I’m paranoid he’s arrogant enough to call the police and I just can’t risk it. So, on the last day of my week off from work I am sitting on my sofa watching every car come past drinking tea until 5 until I can have a glass of something stronger to calm my nerves and to raise a toast to that women who was just passing by but chose to get involved and made me appreciate that I did not bring this on myself.
Went for a work lunch with two senior colleagues yesterday, one male and one female. Myself and the other female sat facing the male colleague as we both needed to talk directly to him. The waiter turned to the male in my group and said “nice view”. When myself and my female colleague looked to see what was behind us the waiter said (to the male colleague again), “no I mean those two”. What the actual fuck.
The world makes me sad sometimes. It’s mostly men, that Adam Johnson prison bragging, I wish I’d raped her. Why do men hate women? Sometimes I worry that I will end up hating actually all men. Especially when men I love or have liked do things that make them part of the problem. I hope that I can help them to hate us less. Did I really just write that? We don’t deserve to be hated. I did not deserve to be raped, I did not deserve to be sexually assaulted. How can I get past these things? I wrote that I should not give them brain space, maybe I should free the nipple in protest, but all that would do would make me feel more objectified as they’d would look and scoff at me. I could get really fucking good at manly things? Like mechanics and woodwork, but would that be winning if I’d rather be doing other things. I have a strong resolve to teach any children I might have to be more respectful and to love themselves, I could raise solutions, hope to raise people that would not rape or be raped. But is that on some level saying I could have prevented some of what happened to me, raise them to have better judgement of people. The people that hurt me told me they cared about me. I don’t want to raise children incapable of trusting other humans. I feel like I need a tattoo that says ‘it wasn’t your fault’ I need Robin Williams to shout it in my fucking face and shake my shoulders until I believe it and cry. But I’m not Matt Damon, I am a perfectly functional loving woman, I have not shut down, I trust. I feel triggered by my partner sometimes, when he grabs, I tell him i don’t like it. I don’t know if he believes me. Sometimes if I’m not in the mood to make love he tries to guilt trip me, as if he does have some sort of a right to my body. I don’t know how to make him understand that. I don’t know how much it affects me. I know I don’t like it. I’d like to be able to say no and that be ok. It feels like I have a limited amount of nos. I’d like to be more clear in myself about why I say no, sometimes I feel like I’d like to make love but I say no, and I don’t know why. Is it because I don’t feel safe somehow? I know I don’t like to make love when I don’t feel safe. Today I tried to do yoga in the park and a Lorry drove past and beeped at me. I was angry.
Where to begin? One year, I went on holidays with my parents, I was fifteen. Sitting by the pool my parents made friends with a couple about their age with a very young son. The husband of the couple seemed really nice, chatted away to him. The next day they joined us at the pool, the husband started to stare at me, up and down, telling my parents and his wife how lovely I was. He really just kept on staring at me in my swimming togs, and he really seemed less less jolly old man and more and more, creepy old man. He joined my parents and I for a drink after dinner and when my mother went to bed, he really over kill telling me I was beautiful and grabbed me by the waist. My Father, immediately stood up and said we were leaving in a super awkward way. I think my father wanted to believe I hadn’t noticed behavior so that’s why he didn’t give out to the man, but either way, what hell did that guy think he was doing? When I was fourteen and babysitting, the kids dad slapped me on the bum and said that my shorts looked like I was wearing underwear. When I was seventeen I worked in a bar and I was cleaning the ladies bathroom as the pub was being cleared out. A man his thirties, who was engaged, who knew my family and who’s little sister was in my year in school, followed me into the bathroom, pushed the door closed behind him and told me how pretty he thought I was and asked me whether I wanted it to get “hot” in the bathroom. He grabbed for me so I backed myself into a cubicle, complete with mop and bucket and locked myself in. A friend from school, a boy, who was also working in the bar came in when he noticed the door closed and dragged the guy away. In that same bar, a married man in his forties, groped me. In that same bar, a man in his sixties, groped me. When I was nineteen, a man in his thirties licked my face and squeezed my upper thigh in a car when I was getting a lift home with his sister. He was a really big man, I am a very small person in general. His hand completely around my thigh he rubbed up towards my crotch. He did this while continuing to speak to his sister (driving) and a neighbor in the front seat about his children. I have seen him many times since and he doesn’t look me in the eye. He acts as though he has never met before, particularly if I am with a brother or someone else he knows. When I was twenty one, and in university I brought friends back to my apartment after a night out. A guy I kind of like fell asleep on the sofa, when I went to bed he came into my room. It was college and common for friends to sleep over male or female. He started to kiss me, I kissed back. Before I knew it, he was on top of me, I kept telling him to stop when he was inside me. I kept saying no. He grunted and rolled off of me when he was done. The next morning I felt so ashamed and hungover. I told my friends but I didn’t report it. My friends, never suggested I reported it, it was a case of “bummer, that’s shit”. He would make it his business to be around me at parties, I would try and get away from him, he would follow me home from uni, he once left himself into my apartment by tailgating, he once grabbed by the belt of my shorts in a pub and shoved me against the wall. My friends would give out to him and shield me while another friend helped usher me safely away. None of us ever thought that this was an unusual situation or even illegal, just college. He told friends that he raped me, in front of me and laughed at me. When I ready about unreported sexual assaults I seem to forget to make the connection. When I was twenty five and working in my first “real” job, making “good” money, I was the only female in an all male department. We were having a Christmas jumper day and I came to work wearing jeans and a Christmas jumper, as everyone else in the office did. My male boss, who I had a lot of respect for, said “what are you wearing?!” when responded that I was wearing a Christmas jumper, he said “Really?, I thought you’d show up wearing a Santa’s little helpers outfit for me” I was just astonished, really what the actual…? When I was twenty six I was out for dinner with my friends, I was standing on the street while one of them used the atm. A drunk guy grabbed me by the wrist and tried to drag me up the dark street adjacent to the street we were on. I pulled my arm away from him, he held on so tight that his nails began to dig into my skin, I successfully freed my arm from his grip and my arm started to bleed. It was infected and gross afterwards and I still have a scar on the inside of my wrist from him. I wonder does he even remember it. The dozens of times a man shoved his hand up my skirt in busy pubs. That time my boyfriends friend told me he wanted to fuck me when he bumped into me alone in the hall at a house party. That time when I was working in a restaurant at twenty three when a guy I knew through friends came in drunk with a group of colleagues. I was walking down the stairs and met him on the landing, he grabbed me by both wrists and tried to kiss me. He kept leaning in and trying to reach my face with his as I tried to wriggle out of his grip. I nearly fell down the stairs trying to get away from him. He is a notoriously “nice” guy apparently. When I was in school, my science teacher used to rub his crotch against the front of our desks, so all the girls used to rub chalk on the desks before he came into class. One day, he rubbed himself against the desks like we knew he would and when he stood away from the desk of my friend and I, he noticed that the front of his trousers was covered in chalk. He glared at my friend and I, immediately he grabbed both of us by the arm and dragged us outside of the class room. He whispered in my friends ear, then mine, that he would be our year head the following year and we wouldn’t be able to get away from him. When I was twenty two and living in New York, I was viewing an apartment when the guy who was subletting it, rubbed his crotch up against my bum, really grinded. I left. I’m now twenty nine, I am an adult with a career. I was at a work lunch and at the end of it I turned around to grab my bag and a man at the next table put his hands on the back of my neck and shoulders. I turned around and asked him what he was doing, and whether he thought it was okay to touch other people, strangers, and what was it about me that he thought I would be okay with it, I told him to keep his hands off of me. His lunch mate told me it was a joke, honey. I said he needs to get a better sense of humor and left the restaurant. I was recently heading a project in work and I had to meet a rep from another company, a man, renowned professionally. His openly line was to tell me how cute I was. He also complimented my hands and asked me did I know why men love small hands on a woman. In school, we would have free classes where we would go to a classroom to study and be supervised by a teacher. For my final year in school we had our free class on Wednesdays scheduled in the TG class. The male teacher would always make me sit at the desk directly in front of him. At the beginning I thought it was because I was one of the last in, or because I had a habit of talking to my friends instead of studying. But as time went on, I realised even when I kept quiet and didn’t take my eyes away from the pages of my notebooks, that he would still make me sit there. Or when I realised that when other people were talking, he would make me sit there but not them. He would make me sit there and he would stare at me, I can still feel his eyes staring at me when I tried to keep my focus and avoid eye contact with him by staring at my books. I would always from then on be one of the first rather than one of the last to arrive to class but he would still make me sit there. Boys and girls in the class noticed it and offer to help me avoid being sat there, completely unsolicited. One day, I arrived early, sat in the middle of the class, not the back, stayed quiet, and hoped that he would see no reason to have to move me to the top of the class. But nevertheless when the bell rang for class to start he ordered the person sitting in front of him to switch seats with me. I protested that I was doing nothing wrong and that I shouldn’t have to sit up there because I was early, I wasn’t chatting and I was studying. He ordered me again and again I protested, the rest of the class started to back me up. He let out a roar that we were to switch seats and everyone was terrified, including me, so I switched seats and he stared at me again, for the entire class. That lasted for the entire school year. A colleague of mine said that I was good at the filing because I was a woman. He said that I was good at the fluffy “people management” stuff because I was a women. He said that I received special recognition award and an extra bonus at Christmas, because the company had to give it to a woman. He also says I’m cute like a puppy. There’s more I’m sure. My friends too, there must be hundreds of these stories between us. I hope my boyfriend, my father, my brothers, my uncles, my cousins or friends have ever inflicted this kind of harassment on a women, but it’s so common, it’s so normal that the odds don’t seem in favor.