As I was reading these stories, I was reminded of an event that I hadn’t thought of in many years, and which I didn’t give a lot of importance to. But now, having it brought up in my mind, and playing back what happened in my mind. I am now finally feeling and processing what happened to me. About 6 years ago, when I was in 7th grade, I was groped by someone in my computer class. I was maybe 13-14 at the time and my body was rapidly developing, I was a short, overweight girl that already had D cups and really thick thighs, basically fully developed. At this time, like most people I imagine, I felt extremely insecure about my body and looks, more specifically because I was at my heaviest weight. I didn’t really think anyone would find me attractive, or want to be with me, typical low self-esteem thoughts. That day was no exception. There were a lot of boys in my class but I never really thought much of it because I thought I was invisible to them due to me thinking so little about myself. I remember getting up from my computer and heading to the teacher’s desk to ask a question. Unfortunately, to get to their desk I had to walk past a group of boys, and so I did and that’s when it happened. As I was walking past, someone smacked my ass. I was completely and utterly shocked, I didn’t know what to do but to turn around and see who it was. I must’ve turned too slow or something, because as soon as I turned around all the boys were spaced out, and far away from me. I knew it was them, they were all staring at me, I just didn’t know which one did it. Complete fucking embarrassment ran through me, I didn’t know who had done it but they know. They all stared at me knowing what happened and who did it. Yet I stood there clueless not knowing what to do. I don’t remember what happened after, I just know nothing happened, I didn’t tell anyone, I just let it be. I didn’t even confront the kids. I just asked my question and went back to my seat. Absolutely nothing happened. Everything continued as if nothing had happened. I think that made me think that I shouldn’t dwell on it and that’s what resulted in me just now processing the emotions I felt. Embarrassment, frustration, rage, dread, dirtiness, fear, and vulnerability. Why would they do that? Why would they fucking do that to me? why didn’t I do something? Honestly, I was scared the teacher wouldn’t believe me. I was scared nothing would happen. I was scared more people would find out. I was scared they would all just look at me the same way they looked at me. I was scared that it would happen again.
