In college every male friend I made tried to hook up with me or take advantage of me sexually. One night I knew he was gonna try it again (even though I had already turned him down more than once), so I chugged as much wine as I could so that I might black out and escape my body for the night while he did as he pleased. I was just too exhausted at that point to fight it anymore. It comes from all directions all the time.
Sure enough, the next morning I woke up naked next to him. I made something up so that he would leave as soon as possible, and I stopped talking to him after that.
That instance with that guy in college was not the first time my body had been used without my knowledge, and it wouldn’t be the last. It’s been stripped down, video taped, transported, and made the butt of jokes on a few occasions all without my knowledge.
To this day I cut myself from time to time to feel more connected to my body, and because it feels like I have control over what’s happening to it. My psychiatrist told me, “Girls do that. Not so much boys.” Plain and simple. I didn’t ask him why that is; I’m a girl. I know why because I experience it every day.