Deleted user
Yeah.
Trigger Warnings: This is my opinion, my heavily biased and feministic opinion.
I'm a fifteen-year-old girl (well, technically this come 24th).
You know, that's pretty great. You're probably thinking, "Hey, Emi's so cool and sophisticated, how'd she get that way?" (Or you're not thinking that at all lol)
Well you know how I got that way? Huh?
Fear.
The most intense human feeling of which I was raised off of. Fear.
Not because my parents did anything wrong.
They did but we're going to ignore that for now
You know what… I don't care about how much info I give to others about myself. Hell, if I trust you, I'll send a picture of myself to you.
Yet, one of the things I haven't voided out is my base fear. Everyone has one, even if they aren't aware of it.
Mine?
Harrasment, especially sexual harrasment.
Why?
It's all I've seen! It's the crime I think is the worst, and it happens the most to women (here I am tipping my hat to men who have been raped before, yes, I know they exist, I pray for them).
You can't just… toy with a woman's privacy like that! I hate seeing how people take it to effect, too.
"Oh, what she was wearing? She deserved it!"
oh my god
"She should've just hit him in the balls or something!" - My father actually said this.
Not every situation can call for that.
"She was drunk/alone? Well, what else was she expecting?"
"She should've just relaxed and taken it! It's not so-"
hOLD Up
excuse me?
People have said this before, btw.
NO WOMAN
inhale
Anyway.
Yes. I'm a fifteen-year-old girl who is petrified of rape. Everytime I look at a guy, I think about how possible it is he might rape someone. That someone could be me! I don't look at him as an object, I look at him as a threat, yet many guys look at women like sexual objects.
A surprise?
Perhaps it is.
Not to me, when I found out.
I've always thought this way. I flinch from strange men sometimes because I'm afraid they'll make a move towards me.
You know, I have a reason for this, too. Yeah. Your Emi. Has a reason to be afraid of men.
Sigh
When I was 9 or 10, there was a pair of people in my neighborhood. One was a girl, the other was a boy. We'll call the boy… Kevin. The girl was very nice, yet I never told her what her brother did.
This is super long I'm sorry. Thanks for sticking around
So, just across the street to my house, there's a little lawn with a huge tree. There's a little path that's kind of hidden with the branches (It's a weeping willow) and walled in by a gate. Me and a few friends of mine (I think three others including Kevin and I) played there all the time and played 'Kingdom'.
I was the queen and Kevin was the king. So…
Kevin used to take me back to the little path and he'd give me 'kissing lessons' which I don't remember if I gave consent to or not; I just remember the kissing and being mortified afterward. I didn't like him at all, I just did it to be the queen, you know? Kid innocence and all. And this went on for like, two weeks, I think, until he asked me to take off my skirt. Which I still have. It's a lacy brown skirt that's about mid-thigh length. I can't wear it anymore since my waist size is much larger now. But I didn't take off my skirt. I registered that it was wrong and I fled back to my house. I never told anyone this story except for my bestie @AoT-is-hell-but-Berty-is-my-angel (who I suggested this site to, we've been friends for years. We met the school year at the end of the summer).
So yeah.
I think I have a reason to be afriad.
