When I was 18, I was walking home at night from the train station after a missed train. I took the ‘safe route’ through my parents’ neighbourhood instead of the fast route through the park. It seemed like the wise decision… However, a guy followed me and grabbed me, only 20 meters from my parents’ front door. I was lucky and managed to break loose, the guy ran off and I sprinted home. I was extremely upset, so despite it being half past 12 at night, I woke my parents up to tell them. My mom comforted me, while my dad went outside and drove around the neighbourhood, ready to beat this guy up if he found him. I am in my thirties now, and recently I realised something about this experience that really shocked me to my core – even after all this time. In this entire ordeal, one big thing was blatantly missing: police involvement. At no time were they called, or did it occur to me or my parents that it might be worthwhile for me to give a statement about the events. I still can’t wrap my brain around it: a predator was on the loose in my neighbourhood, and apparently, that was not worth bothering the police for their time for. The other day I asked my mother about this, why the police wasn’t involved, and she didn’t have an answer (even if she, too, was visibly upset about the realisation of it). Violence against women is apparently so normalised that no one is outraged anymore. In fact, no one even realises it’s a crime.
this happened last year I was sitting in the living room when my brother finally came out to clean the dishes of the meal i’d cooked for him. I heard him starting to unload the dishwasher, which i knew to be dirty, and told him to stop. He kept unloading, saying some of them looked fine, to which I walked over and said just because they were rinsed didn’t mean they were fine (some could’ve had contact with raw chicken etc). I also knew that he was just being lazy, wanting to make room so he could put the new dishes in, to which they wouldn’t clean properly (becasue they never do, especially when they’ve dried out for hours), so then I can get the pleasure of properly washing them the next time I cook. ‘What on earth has this got to with sexism’ you might be wondering. This can’t be a big deal, just another, ‘men don’t do chores’ whoop de doo. “Sit down or I’ll kill you.” He pointed his finger at me, his teeth were gritted and his eyes wide. They were wide with the same anger in which we argued every other time. Except this time he threatened to kill me. Except this time, I knew him to be capable of thinking it every time he looked at me that way and-in a moment of sheer horror, to do it. My dad, who’d be in the room, told him ‘he’d gone too far’. He said it seriously, not angrily. My brother started screaming about how I was patronizing him before he went to his room, slamming the door. I stood there shocked. Then something even worse happened. “You shouldn’t have nagged at him. Your mother always nagged.” My dad just placed the blame on me for my brother threatening to kill me. He then left. I stood there still. I didn’t want to cry. I didn’t want to think that these men- which was all they were to me in that moment, not family, had the power and right to be angry, to cause devastation and for me to fall victim to it. I didn’t want them to have power over me. But I cried nonetheless. And I kept crying, struggling for breath. I physically walked outside of that room, but everything in my mind was a struggle. The cold air hit me, it was raining, but nothing could be felt bodily, not even if my brother in that moment had barged out from his room and stabbed me. My sister ‘Laura’ was with our older sister ‘Jane’. I couldn’t reach out to her for comfort and solidarity. I felt so alone, with the words ‘you shouldn’t have’ ringing in my head as much as ‘i’ll kill you’. I ended up calling my mum, even though i knew she would be at work. I felt guilty for causing her such panic, but once I finished talking with her I assured her I would call my oldest sibling, ‘James’ who always knew how to make me laugh even when i was detemined to be upset. And he did make me laugh, I began to calm down as my Dad came out to talk to me. I didn’t want to talk to my dad though, i felt he had no right. No right to explain the situation to me, to tell me what i did, or what he did, as he so very much likes to do before apologising. He just had no right to do that after what he said. Mum called him. She justly told him how wrong he was to say what he did. To slander my mother in the process of slandering me, meanwhile all my brother got was ‘you’ve gone too far’ in an unemotive statement. He was more emotional about the woman he’d been separated for five years now, and my acting like her than my BROTHER THREATENING TO KILL ME. And you know what? A week later, my brother- not the nice one who made me laugh even when I was in the middle of a breakdown, the one who threatened to kill me poked his head into my room and with a grimacing smile, said ‘sorry about what happened.’ I just stared at him. He deserved nothing. He might as well have just texted me ‘btw sorry about threatening to kill you, no biggie right?’ And I’m still supposed to be okay with it today when I see him. As if I can’t think of him saying it. Of all the times he’s gotten angry, when’s he’s broken something, yelled, shoved me back in a rage. How am I not supposed to think of the women I see on TV, who were murdered by someone they knew, they trusted and loved. How am I not supposed to think about him threatening to kill me over fucking dishes, and fear that the next time he gets the slightest bit mad, not only may i be threatened, but I could be killed. And that I don’t just imagine it, i consider it a real possibility that my own brother might kill me in a rage.
I was sitting in the tram home from University when I heard a couple behind me Fighting. He said “what do you say slut” and she cried, I immediately turned around and they were about 15 years old. Again he said slut and touched her legs and she tried to push him away. I walked to them and I asked if she needs help, when he respond to me:” you can leave, shes my girlfriend” I said “and you call her a slut?!?!. he respond: “yea I can call her that way because she screwed another guy” I was so Angry and said with loud and direct voice “no you are never alowwed to call her or anybody else that!” then he said “fuck off bitch” but I stayed and the Girl stood up nd went next to me to leave together, he tried to grabb her but I was Standing between them and I took her to the frnt of the tram. We sat down and she was crying so much and said that is my boyfriend. I was shocked nd began Talking to her that i can call the Police but she said to me no. She was also a Little bit drunk and said that her “boyfriend” punched her outside at the tram Station in the face. I wanted to cry with her.. I said you can report him and we can do it together but she said to me that she loves him and that ist her fault that everything of this happened because she slept with another guy. She said if she wouldnt have been so stupid he wouldnt have punched her. After a Long monologue of mine why it isnt her fault and People making mistakes is normal, and that ist never okay to get beaten, punched, insulted or anything! I wanted to bring her home, but her mom wanted to kick her out if she ever gets drunk at home again. then in a conversation with her I knew her mom was beating her too. I asked her if the youth welfare Office know About it (Institution in germany for Children and Teens with “problematic” parents). and they did know About it, but the women who is soppsed to help her wasnt available. She had no Money and I brought her into a safe hostel and gave her some Food. I tried to convince her to see how her boyfriend is going to drag her down. I gave her my number in case she wants to report him. And one women in the tram tried t help us, the rest was Looking away. My heart was broken to see a Young teenage Girl who thought it was all her fault.
I was 15. I was rebellious and ran away from home. While gone I partied at a nightclub. Me and a guy I knew went out back to smoke. Next thing I know 3 guys are forcing themselves upon me in a dark parking lot. I tried to fight and scream so they shoved gravel in my mouth. Thank god I was drunk so I can’t remember details. For 10 years I told no one because I thought it was my fault for being somewhere I shouldn’t or for being drunk. I was so ashamed and filled with self hatred. Then in college I took a class in Women’s Studies and the professor taught me that violence is never ok and it is NEVER the victims fault. I got it and everything changed. Especially inside me. I started volunteering at a Women’s shelter and soon after I was hired as a crisis worker. I was good at my job because I really understood where these women were coming from I can’t tell you how many times I told a client that it’s not her fault no matter what it’s not her fault I worked my way all the way to being executive director of that program.
My ex boyfriend kicked my door in because I didn’t want to talk to him and I feel guilty for calling the police because ‘now he’ll have a criminal record and his life is ruined’.
I posted a comment on a website and I was bombarded by some man, telling me how all women should be raped and murdered.
I was abused by my last gf she used to hit my across my face and was overly controlling, cutting me off from all my female friends in case I was “cheating” I broke up with her and sought help, many told me I was a pussy and to grow up, I am considering jumping from a bridge right now, in this sexist society, only women can be abused, men can’t cry or show their emotions in fear of being called un-manly or feminine, because apparently women can’t abuse or rape, everytime I’m on the metro, mothers ask their children to move away from me as if I am a pedophile or rapist, this is only a fringe of the real everyday sexism that men go through..
Shana Grice, 19 years old, was murdered by her ex-boyfriend. She had reported his abusive stalking of her repeatedly to police. The police fined her for wasting their time and treated her reports with skepticism. Thankfully, the ex-boyfriend was found guilty and is now serving a life sentence. But this case just goes to show how little women can reply on the police to take them seriously. The judge criticised the police for their attitude towards her and for stereotyping her. How many more women need to die before we are taken seriously and afforded the rights and protection that we deserve?
It was the Friday before Christmas Eve and the pub was bustling with familes and friends all celebrating the approach to the Christmas weekend. I had gone out with my friends, of which im the only female. They are all great, really respectful guys which meant that what followed was a shock to the system. It was about two hours into our little Christmas meet-up when I decided to go and play pool with a good friend of mine. It was all very funny as neither of us could play to save our lives. However the atmosphere changed for the worst when a group of six, bulky men starting shouting comments at me. I was shocked. It consisted of comments about by body, especially about my arse. They proceeded to call me over repetively. Ordering me to walk over to them. I tried to ignore them but the comments got worse and worse, louder and louder. I felt very uncomfortable but attempted to ignore them, not wanting them to think I was afraid. When the game ended they were bellowing at me to come over to them. I didn’t know what they were going to do, I was afraid and felt so inferior. So powerless. I briskly walked to my friend who went and got my boyfriend. Once he got there they stopped but I was quite shaken. A few minutes later I found out they had hurt my other friend who i had asked to go and get my boyfriend. They had hurt him becuase he had helped me. I was angry and wasnt going to tolerate it. Quickly i walked back to the area they were sitting and checked they were still there. They were. I approached the desk and told the manager everything. She was shocked too. She said she was going to talk to them but I left the pub with my friends before any more trouble was caused. I am still shaken up and shocked to discover how happily people will be so sexually derogatory, demeaning and violent. If it happens, report it. Its the only way we can all make a difference.
Old men have always loved me, in more than one way. I’m a 20 year old college student and was formerly in the resturaunt and hotel business and have gotten many comments. “Bring my food bitch” from an old drunk at the bar “where’s the skirt?” As a housekeeper. I have literally gotten marriage proposals from customers as a server by a man older than my father. All of this fed in my confidence issues which made it unfathomably easy for me to get sodamized in an abusive relationship and put up with it for almost 3 years. Which is now in my past and I am currently in therapy but we need to teach our sons to be respectful so we don’t get as many harmful men.