Ever wonder what it’s like being female and living through what women are expected to deal with? A small peek into some of the happenings in the grand adventure of being human and female all at the same time.
“When I was seventeen and preparing to leave for university, my mother’s only brother saw fit to give me some advice.
“Just don’t be an idiot, kid,” he told me, “and don’t ever forget that boys and girls can never just be friends.”
I laughed and answered, “I’m not too worried. And I don’t really think all guys are like that.”When I was eighteen and the third annual advent of the common cold was rolling through residence like a pestilent fog, a friend texted me asking if there was anything he could do to help.
I told him that if he could bring me up some vitamin water that would be great, if it wasn’t too much trouble.
That semester I learned that human skin cells replace themselves every three to five weeks. I hoped that in a month, maybe I’d stop feeling the echoes of his touch; maybe my new skin would feel cleaner.
It didn’t. But I stood by what I said. Not all guys are like that.When I was nineteen and my roommate decided the only way to celebrate the end of midterms was to get wasted at a club, I humoured her.
Four drinks, countless leers and five hands up my skirt later, I informed her I was ready to leave.
“I get why you’re upset,” she told me on the walk home, “but you have to tolerate that sort of thing if you want to have any fun. And really, not all guys are like that.”(Age nineteen also saw me propositioned for casual sex by no fewer than three different male friends, and while I still believe that guys and girls can indeed be just friends, I was beginning to see my uncle’s point.)
When I was twenty and a stranger that started chatting to me in my usual cafe asked if he could walk with me (since we were going the same way and all), I accepted.
Before we’d even made it three blocks he was pulling me into an alleyway and trying to put his hands up my shirt. “You were staring,” he laughed when I asked what the fuck he was doing (I wasn’t), “I’m just taking pity.”
But not all guys are like that.I am twenty one and a few days ago a friend and I were walking down the street. A car drove by with the windows down, and a young man stuck his head out and whistled as they passed. I ignored it, carrying on with the conversation.
My friend did not. “Did you know those people?” He asked.
“Not at all,” I answered.
Later when we sat down to eat he got this thoughtful look on his face. When I asked what was wrong he said, “You know not all guys do that kind of thing, right? We’re not all like that.”
As if he were imparting some great profound truth I’d never realized before. My entire life has been turned around, because now I’ve been enlightened: not all guys are like that.No. Not all guys are. But enough are. Enough that I am uncomfortable when a man sits next to me on the bus. Enough that I will cross to the other side of the street if I see a pack of guys coming my way. Enough that even fleeting eye contact with a male stranger makes my insides crawl with unease. Enough that I cannot feel safe alone in a room with some of my male friends, even ones I’ve known for years. Enough that when I go out past dark for chips or milk or toilet paper, I carry a knife, I wear a coat that obscures my figure, I mimic a man’s gait. Enough that three years later I keep the story of that day to myself, when the only thing that saved me from being raped was a right hook to the jaw and a threat to scream in a crowded dorm, because I know what the response will be.
I live my life with the everburning anxiety that someone is going to put their hands on me regardless of my feelings on the matter, and I’m not going to be able to stop them. I live with the knowledge that statistically one in three women have experienced a sexual assault, but even a number like that can’t be trusted when we are harassed into silence. I live with the learned instinct, the ingrained compulsion to keep my mouth shut to jeers and catcalls, to swallow my anger at lewd suggestions and crude gestures, to put up my walls against insults and threats. I live in an environment that necessitates armouring myself against it just to get through a day peacefully, and I now view that as normal. I have adapted to extreme circumstances and am told to treat it as baseline. I carry this fear close to my heart, rooted into my bones, and I do so to keep myself unharmed.
So you can tell me that not all guys are like that, and you’d even be right, but that isn’t the issue anymore. My problem is not that I’m unaware of the fact that some guys are perfectly civil, decent, kind—my problem is simply this:
In a world where this cynical overcaution is the only thing that ensures my safety, I’m no longer willing to take the risk.”
–Source.
4 comments
March 4, 2014 at 8:57 am
syrbal-labrys
:::sigh:::: And yet, men want to always be classed in the “not like that” crew. I married one who is indeed NOT like that. I am a minority, I fear. And all I can think, when men froth and foam at the mouth about not allowing gays in the military, in sports teams, in Boy Scouts? Is that the REAL reason for their fear is that THEY know EXACTLY how many of them ARE like that and fear being on the receiving end.
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March 4, 2014 at 11:07 am
Reneta Scian
I relate to this… When a man stares or leers at me, or tries to get closer I get really scared. Or if I am out at night and I see men on the street, even well lit I freak out. I tremble inside. When a man takes any undo interest in me I start to shake. I can’t even tell you the number of times I’ve ran home after a strange encounter with someone on a bus, or a convenience store, even though there was no one there because I was eyeball deep in a panic attack. I usually run inside, collapse on the bathroom floor and hope I won’t vomit this time. Been in public and groped in front of complete strangers and had no one stand up and defend me. So yeah, I know not all guys are rapists, but I’m not going to assume in the off-chance that they are. As is most people read me as a woman I’m terrified being discovered as trans* will make me a murder victim as well. It’s safe to say, I’m terrified of most men. I know some men I’m not afraid of, but most I am. It’s so bad that even male family members scare me.
But, Syrbal, I think I like your logic. Though, in line with that thought, I believe the fallacy lies in the belief that penis = sexual agency, and with gay men the threat of another man with the same kind of agency they have is scary. Not only that, it challenges their masculinity and poses a threat to being emasculated. Male Rape as seen as the ultimate emasculation, because rape is seen as a feminizing act. To conquer another, in a sexual way, is to feminize them, to make them like a woman. Because to be feminine is to be loathsome, dirty and lesser. Men have been playing this game since the beginning of recorded history. Hell, they even make up little games to emasculate each other like some primative pissing contest. I’ve seen them sexually harass each other in the name of that cause. The above fallacy though is also part of the “Gay Man = Pedo/Rapist” fallacy, and the similar trope with trans* women. To be honest though, reducing ones entire function down to the goal of being the “Best Possessor/User of Sexual Agency” is a rather pathetic, simple-minded, and backwards way to live and an utter waste of potential. Of course, when a woman does it, she’s a slut under that “Male Sexual Predator/Women Sexual Prey” paradigm.
And of course, it’s utterly bullshite oppressive nonsense.
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March 4, 2014 at 4:39 pm
jasonjshaw
And the flip side, I had more than my fair share of women with guy friends who end up getting involved with these people they portray as friends. Had that happen far too often in my dating days, it really caused me a lot of distrust toward women for some time.
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March 4, 2014 at 8:23 pm
The Intransigent One
@jasonjshaw – I’m not sure I’m reading you correctly, are you saying that when your female friends’ friendships with men occasionally blossomed into romance, it caused you to mistrust women in general?
Um. Wow.
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