Met a guy for the first time through an online dating site. The whole date went well, he was nice and courteous throughout. We were standing in front of the beach just as the date was coming to an end, it was windy and we were both facing the sea. Out of the blue he says, ‘are you trying to cover your cleavage?’. I lost my cool completely and gave him a piece of my mind. We ended the date and headed home. He was extremely sorry for his behaviour. But where the hell does such an audacious comment come from when you have just met a girl?
I was walking down a street in my neighbourhood with my sister (Im 14, she was 18) playing pokemon go, when a car beeps. We where unsure at first if the car was beeping at us or beeping at a car, but then it starts to follow us. to be safe we turned back the way, but then the car turns round (bear in mind this was a tricky corner to turn round in again.) and starts to follow us again, so we had to run for it. my sister and i where too scared to continue walking so we just went home, feeling scared and defeated. we had been going and playing pokemon go everyday until that happened and then we stopped completely. it sucks when you can’t even escape sexism in you’re own street. 🙁
I went to this fancy movie theater for a friend’s birthday, and while you watch the movie you are served drinks and food, and you just need to reserve seats a few hours ahead of time. We got there and were sitting chatting when a guy gets to his seat which is next to mine. He stares at me and says, “Oh wow! A pretty girl, lucky me!” I don’t respond; I don’t even turn to look at him. I’m staring straight ahead hoping he’ll ignore me, but he persists and says, “What no smile? Can’t you smile?” I give him a withering glare instead, but he keeps harassing me to be a “good little girl and smile.” Then he starts calling me mute and telling me to speak. He’s an older man, maybe in his 50’s, and I’m 22 but look more like an underage teenager, and one way he tries to get me to speak is by saying, “I have three iPhone in my car. I bet if I take you out to my car and show them to you I’ll get you to talk and smile”. The waiter then comes a few seconds after that, and he tells the waiter, “don’t speak to her, she’s mute. She can’t speak.” Thankfully there was another seat next to my friend away from the man, so I got up and switched seats. When the waiter came back, he asked me why I had moved away from my father, to which I responded, “He’s not my father. I’ve never met that man before in my life.” The waiter was shocked and said he was sorry. Then the waiter came back and started flirting with me while I was watching the movie and touched my face. I felt so utterly violated by both men.
In 2015 (I was 17 at the time) I was best friends with this boy. He and I were so close, on a brotherly sisterly type level. He had confessed his romantic feelings for me in the past, but I made it clear to him that I wanted to be strictly friends and that I considered him a brother. So the summer of 2015 we get this idea to have a sleepover. I’m not talkin anything sexual in any way shape or form, when we were planning this sleepover it sounded like a good old fashioned slumber party. Both of our parents approved of it since it was clear to them we were just really good friends. We spent the beginning of the night on a blow up mattress watching a movie. Before we went to sleep I made it clear to him that nothing was going to happen, that I didn’t want anything to happen, and that he was my friend and nothing more. He agreed with me. Later, after we had fallen asleep I felt him groping me. He put his hands down my shirt and started touching my chest. He also forced his way into my pants and fingered me. He kissed me. This all started while I was asleep, there was no consent. There was no chance to give consent as I was ASLEEP. He just started touching me as he pleased like it was completely normal to do that. Waking up to him touching me made me feel physically and mentally paralyzed, I was in shock. I was frozen, couldn’t do anything couldn’t say anything. I don’t remember falling asleep, but that morning I was so nauseous. When I told him I was nauseous at first he was “helping” me by supporting my back while I sat up, but minutes later HE STARTED FINGERING ME AGAIN LIKE HE HAD DONE THAT PREVIOUS NIGHT. JUST HELPED HIMSELF. That’s when I ran to the bathroom and puked. I’ve tried telling the police about it but they were biased as my abuser’s dad works for the police department in my town. The police officer I spoke with basically told me I was asking for it and should’ve been more careful about the situation I put myself in. -.- I know…absolutely revolting isn’t it
Inspired by #TheySaid, except it wasn’t what he said, it was what he did. A boy in my year made a comment about girls shaving, I made a comment back. Thing is, I don’t remember what either of us said, all I remember is him pinning me to the wall and pulling up my trouser leg so he could make fun of how hairy I was. I think we were about 13, maybe 14 at the time. Weird that I only remembered this when I saw that hashtag and started thinking back about my body-shaming experiences. I wonder what else I don’t remember…?
At our school, in the female bathrooms, the paper hand towel dispensers were removed however, the male students still have access to this resource. The female students protested and called it sexism yet the authorities told us that it was just life and for us to get used to it. These people who label themselves ‘authorities’ are teaching young females that males will always be dominant over them and that they should just learn not to complain. THIS IS ATROCIOUS
I am a 22 year old female who is fed up of receiving sexism at home. I am a person who believes in equality for all genders, races, sexualities and beliefs. I am very careful and respectful about this. However, at home my parents treat us in such ways that clearly prove sexism. Chores are never that important if my brother does not do them (I’ve never ever seen him help out in any kind of way) but whenever I am asked to do anything and ask my mum/dad why they are not telling my brother to do something as well (e.g. chores), it always comes down to them stating that as a female it is more important for me to do it and not him. I argue with them every single day. It gives me so much anxiety. I try to understand because that is how they were bought up but it is really frustrating.
This is basically directed at my dad, so apart from changing the names, I just left it in this letter format seeing as I wrote it as I was feeling it. Coarse language and severe satire follows. Fucking patronising dickhead “when you’re done with your intensive studying can you clean up a little?” fucking prick, because ‘Jacob’ is so clearly the golden child in this situation, sitting in his room, isolated from the world, doing nothing with his life except maybe pissing me off on a daily basis when he looks smugly at me when you praise him. ‘Oh, ‘Jacob’ cleaned the kitchen tonight…’Elaina’ you could’ve cooked dinner for your sister’ Well maybe ‘Jacob’ shouldn’t have eaten our hardworking, uni student-sister’s leftover lunch, and maybe you should’ve cooked dinner. Of course as soon as it becomes more complex than sausages, you refuse to look up a recipe even though you can’t cook- and even when I try to help you find one and make suggestions, you act as if some great burden has been placed upon you and decide it’s too hard. I’ve given up on cooking for you fuckheads because I spent hours finding healthy recipes which wouldn’t inconvenience me too much in (in terms of cooking skill and time)-between having a life, trying to lose weight because I’ve been insecure about that since forever (and thanks for letting ‘fat bitch’ slide for a good 7 years with ‘Hayden’ [other brother], can’t comprehend why such a nickname could be harmful), doing homework, and feeling miserable because I had no friends. Then I would go shopping with you, to which you would always complain if it took too long, then we would get home and I would unpack the whole fucking thing. Emphasis on I. ‘Jacob’ would so graciously bring a few bags inside before he went back to his room. Well done Golden Child (who has a penis), well done! Then I’d cook the damn meal, you’d make some remarks about how the kitchen was a bit messy (sorry I’m not a 50s housewife looking to protect you from dishes). And when I cooked, the dishes were never cleaned properly, so then I would have to re-clean the pots/utensils before I cooked. Worst case scenario, I wrongly assumed you or ‘Jacob’ had completed a simple task, and yet in the middle of cooking the meat, I get last night’s sauce coating tonight’s food. Poor you, you fifty-year old adult, I can’t fix your life when you’re fucking up mine on a daily basis. I used to rely on you before, but now I prefer it when you fuck off, because I don’t need you throwing a tantrum in the kitchen and turning your anger towards me. I’m done taking it, I don’t care how much you scowl at me, this is not going to be a one-sided conversation in which you are correct because you happened to ejaculate some sperm during an orgasm you fucking dickhead. “‘Elaina’, you should do a little more around the house” fuck off. On top of everything, when I came home feeling lonely and miserable from school, I had you in the kitchen-every fucking day and I am not exaggerating-yelling about every little thing. ‘Why is there an empty cup on the coffee table’ Because I’m done with life so I recently just took the last sip of coffee so I can be prepared for your bullshit. I dealt with it for too long, so you only have yourself to blame for the teenager who no longer enjoys going to school which makes doing homework a billion times harder as you helpfully suggest that I should do some laundry as ‘a break’ from studying. I still love you, because you can genuinely feel bad and apologise for these things and you can still be kind, but I don’t want to live under the same roof as you anymore. This keeps going on and we don’t put space between us, the space we will inevitably find will be permanent, as much as the thought of removing family from my life sickens and distresses me. Rant over.
The girls in my school have to go to lunch with tracksuit bottom on over our skorts after PE, the boys however can have bear legs in the dining hall. I’m 15 and got told today (I refuse to follow these rules as they’re extremely sexist) by the deputy head that what I wasn’t dressing “appropriately” and that I need to got back to house and either change into my school uniform or HIDE my legs in some way. I was mortified, but carried on and went into lunch, bear legged, with my friends. I’ll risk anything to stand up for this.
I have my dog who I love dearly, and I walk him around my block every day because my mom thinks it’s “safe.” I usually wear sweatpants and a t shirt. Nothing fits me tight or is revealing. But every time I go to walk them I get catcalled at least once. It never got farther than that, until a few weeks ago. I was walking my dog and we stopped because this man has a dog about the same age and they both seemed to get along. He seemed friendly and we just stood there when we started talking about the dogs. They were simple things like the breed, the dog food they eat, their age, and so on. He was slowly coming closer to me, and I soon became uncomfortable. So I called my dog and told him it was time to go, and we started walking home. We were walking down the sidewalk when he caught up to me and told me that he was going the same way, and I knew he was lying because we were going in opposite directions. I just nodded my head and continued walking when his hand reached for my butt. He grabbed it like it was nothing. That was when I told him to back off. He told me that I was making a fuss out of nothing and he went to grab my breasts. I tried to run, but I couldn’t get away seeing as he was much bigger than I was. My dog saw that I was trying to get away, and he started to bark. The people who lived in the house we were by looked out the window and saw what was going on and came out as well. Thankfully it was a woman and she told him to back off or she was going to call the cops. She asked me of I was okay and offered to walk me home. She walked me home, and luckily didn’t tell my parents what happened. Ever since then I have refused to walk him anymore. My brother is the one who walks him now. I’m only 13 years old.