C
One of my male colleagues [65 years old] looks at women’s breasts almost reflexively; doesn’t matter if they are also 65 [like mine].
University
Jo
I was diagnosed at university, when I had my first proper sexual relationship, with vaginismus. This is when you tighten up involuntarily on penetration. It makes for painful sex. It’s caused by fear or anxiety. I was in a very happy relationship so no fear there. The doctor, rather than suggesting exploring what might be making me anxious, prescribed ky jelly. I told him I had no problem with lubrication, that when we had sex I was as baffled as my boyfriend at how I’d suddenly tighten up. He said, Try the KY, it’ll help. It didn’t. Back then I didn’t know why I was anxious. Now, I suspect it was caused by having seen my mother – who had a drink problem – being raped by a local taxi driver late one night. I was 14. When he saw me at the door (my mother was unconscious and would have been in mo condition to give consent) he said Get out, or you’re next. I got out. My mother would have been humiliated if I’d called the police. She still doesn’t even remember it. I still have flashbacks and feel tremendous guilt for not doing something. I got raped myself when I was 25. I woke up to find him coming inside me, his weight crushing me. I thought he was my friend. I pretended I hadn’t woken up. We were staying with the grandmother of a friend of his, on our way to the Alps, a car trip across Switzerland. I was embarrassed, didn’t want to cause upset, didn’t want to not be believed. We continued with our trip. First I pretended everything was normal but after a day I just stopped talking to him. He didn’t ask why. In the street or on trains or buses; catcalling, or getting cornered or groped or flashed at. All horrible but I have always felt I could manage in those scenarios and I’m quick to shout Get your hands off me! Or simply Fuck off! But 2 incidents really shook me. One, early evening on an empty street in London, just outside my office – an approaching man suddenly lurched at me and spat in my face : I could twist your fucking nippples right off. I din’t break my stride but felt terrified at the violence of it. Another time, busy Saturday shopping street, a group of teenage boys was passing me when one of them leaned over and whispered in my ear, I could fuck you right up the arse. This time I was shocked but not scared. I shouted at him. Everyone looked at me like a crazy woman and he laughed at me. I have always stepped in when I’ve seen a woman in what looks like a potentially bad situation. Sometimes it’s nothing. Sometimes it’s me who gets told to fuck off. That’s fine. But you know, when it is something, the bloke usually walks away as soon as he has an audience. So many women enduring awful violations in the dark because we’re scared that fighting it will make things worse. So many abuses and violations that could be stopped before they happen. I hate that it took me decades to get to a place where I honestly believe not simply that I am not powerless but that I can be powerful. We all can. But it still doesn’t stop me being afraid, most of the time, pretty much everywhere. Not just in my vagina.
Anonymous
I work for a large company with offices in 4 major cities. The man who sexually harassed me works in IT. After just 7 days of rejecting his dauntless badgering, our entire network collapsed. He had been hinting at his power to tinker with my files. When I sought IT support from someone (a man) other than the Harasser, this other man suddenly disappeared from the company. Cue suicide threats. The Harasser hinted at a blog he kept, a “final manifesto” to the world. After 2 months of rejecting him, the Harasser sent me a link to the blog. I was STUNNED to read these terrifying ideas that had been running in the background, including warnings for me. The investigation starts this Wednesday. I feel exhausted, humiliated, and broken.
Anon
Throughout Primary School, Secondary School and College; most boys and young men would not get my attention by politely saying “please excuse me”, “good morning” or “good afternoon”. Instead these males would prod and poke me when I was reading a book or studying. They would yell “Oi!” grabbing my shoulders or poking me in the ribs. This made me jump when I was a little girl and these boys thought it was so funny to scare me and other females. These males would laugh with their friends while yelling in my ear: “Oi wakey wakey sweetheart! Stop ignoring me.” It became a sort of a horrid game where the boys and young men would dare each other to grab at and poke girls reading books or girls just trying to go about their business. These boys and young men would rarely say “Hello” to me but instead would shove me, pinch me, grab me, surprise bear hug me from behind or give me a firm poke. Those boys would say tactless things while invading my personal space and prodding me such as: “Stop reading that boring book darling.” When there was a girl wearing earbuds listening to music in class, sometimes the males would try to remove her earbuds without asking, shout rude words in her ear about her “cup size” and give her a shove. Sometimes when the boys and young men got really impatient at being “ignored” they’d call the girls and young women “skank”, “cunt”, “slag”, “bitch”, “slapper”, “slut” or “cow”. The boys would frequently comment on women’s and girls’ bodies throughout the school day. The boys would talk very loudly about which females were “well fit” or “fat slags”. I regret not reporting these incidences but there never seemed to be time given the intensive academic workload nor was there a designated person to talk to or message anonymously about these embarrassing and worrying incidents. Many of the teachers seemed overwhelmed by the boys and young men’s rude behaviours and were unsure how to stop these. Teachers referring the boys as “gentlemen” and trying to educate these young men about “personal and social relationships” didn’t do any good at all. The males’ poking, grabbing and verbal denigration of females continued. This was why I found it hard have polite and sensitive conversations with boys and young men. Their thoughtless behaviour made me feel sad and I mourn for the deep friendly social connections and thoughtful respectful conversations I never had the opportunity to have with them.
Anon
When I was 19 and in nursing school on a placement in a psych hospital, on my final day I was cornered by an old male health care assistant repeatedly demanding my number and asking to take me out on dates despite me repeatedly saying “no”. At one point he even stood between me and a patient I was having a conversation with to continue demanding my phone number. My last day of this placement was spent avoiding him at all costs and running out of there when my shift ended (I didn’t have time to say goodbye to colleagues because he was briefly off the ward so I took my opportunity and got out of there). I never reported this because he was so well liked by staff and patient and I didn’t want to jeopardise his career in the UK. It was a long time ago and I don’t really remember any of the staff who worked there but his name and face have stuck with me.
Sofia
All my life I have been subject to male criticisms of my work and how I structure my answers. In essays, this does not bother me. However, in classes focusing on Women’s rights and Women in general, there was a particular ‘team’ of boys who would not only mansplain everything, but snigger and laugh every time I, or indeed another woman in my class, explained something at university. During secondary school, I was harassed in public, at the canteen of my school, by a boy who had a ‘crush’ on me, who even strangled me off of a bench, along with other things. It was witnessed by all of my friends, but they were simply under the influence of everyday sexism. As I was told ‘he was just flirting’. To a point where I was scared to say no when he asked me out. Which led to a toxic and abusive relationship. I was 14. I am now at university and still seeing everyday sexism everywhere.
Jess
One of the surgeries I observed during my first placement as a medical student was a mastectomy. As they were preparing the woman, who was under general anaesthetic, for surgery the all-male team of doctors joked extensively about the size of her breasts. After drawing the area to be removed on the unconscious woman’s skin, the surgeon grabbed a breast in each hand and jiggled them around while making ‘funny’ noises – to the great amusement of all others present. I was horrified – this and similar occurrences totally undermined my trust of the medical profession. I am deeply ashamed that I didn’t report it – I didn’t think that I, a young student, could speak up against a senior consultant. I just hope that someone was brave enough to do so, and he no longer has access to women in their most vulnerable state.
Kate
I was sexually assulted in my second year at university. only a few people know about it. I was on a sports night, with my friends at the same club we always went to. I bumped into a guy I had known for about a week, and he bought me a drink. I was relatively drunk at that point, however up until then I remember everything. however, after that drink he bought me, everything is hazy. I dont remember leaving my friends, leaving the club, somehow getting to his, and ending up naked in his bed. the main thing I remember is regaining consciousness in the dark, with no clothes on and his head between my legs. typing that sentence makes my skin crawl. I remember being so scared, searching for my underwear and feeling so vulnerable. he was horrible the next day, and I felt weird about it for weeks. it was only when I re-read my copy of Everyday Sexism did I realise this event happened without my consent. I spoke to a sexual assult helpline, and they helped me understand that I was sexually assulted. I hate the guy that did it. I hate how I can’t wear the clothes he assulted me in because they remind me of him. I hate how I feel so over exposed in revealing clothes, and only feel safe being drunk around my trusted male mates. I do know though, that it wasn’t my fault, and that regardless of what I was wearing, and how drunk I was, it was entirely his fault about what happened to me.
Joana
I’m furious about how the Academy and all the University complex is still designed for men (specifically white men) to succeed. Specifically studying social sciences, the majority of my class are women. However, none of us is remembered, highlighted, believed in. No professor knows my name or recognizes my potential. But when it comes to my male colleague with the same grades and interventions as me, they all adore him. The professors don’t see nothing wrong in their behaviours and don’t notice their biases. My male colleagues hear us but never do anything to help us or to share their power with us. It’s exhausting running after something that is systematically running after you.
Vinisha
I just finished reading the book. So many women like me! When i think of my issues and fears. How many times over how many years, whether it was the unwanted touching from a guy i never fancied at prom. Or the sexual assault in an elevator – more than once (different men) – where i physically couldnt leave. Or the sex that i said no to, but it happened anyway. There are so many more times and im just one girl…. Atleast ive learnt to fight back. As if that’s a lesson i needed to know. Or at my new home where my landlord is trying to bully me out of staying, inspite of the payment upfront, just because i am a petite foreign woman. Lord knows if i was from here…. Or if i was a man…. It just wouldnt happen. Why do i always have to be made stronger. Stronger for what. I think in a world where we didnt need protection from men, i dont know that id have a lot to do with them. I can count on one finger the man i know who isnt sexist. Inspite of how hard i work and my designation as managing director in manufacturing in Nigeria (which by the way is no small feat), there is the expectation that someone else must be making the decisions, and one day i will marry so i cant really have any longterm plan at work. the reality of being shouted at by my second in command – something that would not happen to a man, being told i need to handle him better… And of course which man accepts that i just do not want children. Because i was a great dog mumma, its not the same thing. Either the men i know are bullisome, or outright sexist with open remarks like “you dont need to work”, certainly they always think they know better. atleast in my experience. And yes of course we fight back, but it’s perpetual and it’s daily and it’s exhausting- for how long!!! and to be left angry. And doubting my own skills and competence. Where does it end…..!!?