One of my closest friends is a senior in high school and has been raped on two different occasions. One of the boys that sexually assaulted her has gone to college but it now texting her asking if they can meet and the other is still in high school, a junior and she sees him all the time (he also wants her to hook up with him again). She doesn’t know how to handle the situation and I don’t know how to talk to her about it seeing as I don’t think I know the full story and I have no personal experience with what’s she’s going through. My only guess right now is to be a supportive as possible and be there for whenever she wants to talk.
I live two blocks away from a college campus. There’s a house for rent that every couple of years has a bunch of guys living in it and there’s a house a block over that’s a frat house. I walked to and from school every morning of middle school (aged 11, 12, and 13) and I walk home everyday now as a sophomore in high school. At least once a week I would get catcalls from cars driving by where they would yell things like “hey sexy” and “I heard you fucked my sister”. I was 11 when one guy came up behind me took one of my headphones out and said “hey baby what are ya listening to?” At 11 I understood what sexism was and how men could make you feel uncomfortable. So I looked up at this man-child and responded that I was 11 and asked him to go away. The guy didn’t talk again but he walked beside me for another 10 minutes before turning. Maybe he had to walk that way anyway or maybe and more likely he was a creep that got rejected by and 11-year-old.
My male roommate and I were arguing about sexism as a social construct and his immediate response was to call me a cunt and tell me I was lying to myself. He did not get the irony.
There was a technical problem with the film my boyfriend and I saw at the cinema. After the film, I went to a male staff member to ask where I can make a complaint. A few moments later my boyfriend appears next to me, and the member of staff turns immediately to him and asks my boyfriend to explain the problem (again). Apparently my word isn’t enough.
My boyfriend and I went on a Wal-Matt run last night to buy ingredients for ice cream sundaes. I’d had a few glasses of wine (he drove) and I was in a good mood, making a lot of silly jokes. We were standing at the end of an aisle debating what kind of candy to buy, and I went into a little bit of a rant about how white chocolate isn’t really chocolate. I was exaggerating to make my bf laugh, but at the same time I made sure to keep my voice down and not be obnoxious. Well, this guy about a third of the way down the aisle apparently heard because he turned, looked at me, then looked at my bf, and said, “Man, women are crazy, right?” It was just such a gross moment, like he was expecting them to bond over their mutual disdain for me and my *gasp* NERVE in voicing my opinions.
It was early in the summer and I had only just broken out my flip flops, and the pair I was wearing that day was giving me horrible blisters. I was walking with a friend on a bike path and decided I couldn’t take it anymore. I stopped on the side of the path and fished out some bandages from my bag (I came prepared!) and bent over to put them on. Next thing I know, my butt is being slapped. I stand up, and see a male biker–who must have been in his 40s or 50s (I am 23) from the glimpse I caught of him–whizzing away down the path, looking normal as can be, as if he didn’t just violate my space. I yell after him: “FUCKING SERIOUSLY?!” An older couple walking toward me stop, shocked by my outburst. I angrily say “That guy just slapped my butt!” and they shake their heads in disbelief. The woman let’s out an “Ooh!” under her breath, almost in solidarity. They didn’t see, my friend who was standing next to me didn’t even realize what happened–it happened so fast. I regret being so frozen by shock that I didn’t kick off my flip flops and chase his ass down. After all, I was wearing running shorts and a sweatshirt (over a sports bra), which, I’ll add, definitely means I was asking for it. *EYE ROLLLLL*
I’m a high school teacher, and my male co-workers made a comment about how our male college “had to be at work” a week after he became a father while his wife “got to be at home”, as if growing a human, pushing it out of you, and then taking care of it while recovering from said birth is a vacation compared to coaching a football practice. It deeply concerns me that these are people molding the minds of impressionable teenagers.
My 9 year old daughter regularly plays dinosaurs with one boy. Another boy came over and told the boy playing with my daughter that he needed to stop playing with her so he wouldn’t become a girl. When they kept playing the other boy told my daughter he knew two new dinosaurs “Penissaurus” and “Vaginadon”.
I slept with one of my friends, which we both mutually consented to. We only did it once because well hormones. It was purely casual and we went on with our lives being friends and what not. But one day we were hanging out with friends and he brought me back to his dorm to get food. It was just me and him. I sat on his bed and he got some cereal but didn’t have any milk. So he left to get some but before he did he came back in the room and said “be naked when I get back, k.” . He left before I could say anything, but I was like no. He was drunk so I let it slide. So he came back and was like whatever and we sat on his bed while he ate his cereal. He then was like take your pants off and I said no. He was like why? And I said one I don’t want to and two I’m on my period. He said oh okay… Well suck my dick. And I was laughing at this point, I said no lol. He then took out his penis and he told me about 20 more times where I continued to say no. He then grabbed my head and forced my head down to his penis. I used my arms to cover my face. He tried to do that to me another 10 times where I kept telling him no get off of me. I can’t talk to anyone about this because I’m embarrassed. People will laugh at me. I guess I should just get over it.
Coming out of my last class at university, I was stopped by a young man holding a stack of papers. He pulled me to the side and put one of the papers in front of me, asking me to read the title of the poem he had written (entitled “You’re Beautiful), and told me to “read this whenever you’re having a bad day”. I looked it over, feeling pretty uncomfortable at his insistence that I read it, simply by his body language. He stood in front of me, watching my reaction as I finished it. Upon reading it all, he said “so, what do you think?” What I wanted to say was: “First of all, as a woman, I don’t need ANYONE to tell me I am beautiful, nor do I NEED to be beautiful, or at least YOUR shitty standard of beautiful. If I am to be considered beautiful, it will be on my terms. Secondly, the fact that you would automatically equate what you think my bad day is with not feeling beautiful/pretty/attractive (because that’s every woman’s goal in life, right?) proves to me that you are just another sexist, entitled ass that thinks he is doing me a FAVOR by “complimenting” me. Of course, as a woman, I gave the answer I have been conditioned to give to strangers’ “compliments”. “It’s sweet. Thank you.” I immediately regretted this reaction, and as he walked away pridefully, I took out a pen and scribbled what I really wanted to say on the back of the paper. I found him in the hallway a couple minutes later, in the process of handing another unsuspecting woman a copy of his bullshit. At first chance, I handed it to him, gave him a look, and went on my way. I truly hope he got the message.