One of my male friends was standing outside a club when he was hit from behind.He fell down, and two guys came up and kicked the shit out of him before running away. We used to do jiu jitsu together, but he had a particular drive that I think was borne of that experience. Yet, when men get beat up, I don’t ever entertain the impression that some part of them may have been destroyed.Even if she drank too much, and even if she hated men, her fundamental essence was untouched.How I think of women who have been raped contrasts greatly with how I think of men who have experienced non sexual violence.
I remember confusion, and then shock at realizing his fingers were inside of me. Just, nameless, faceless crying with no discernible reason.
People accused me of just being bisexual “for attention” despite my own lack of agency around coming out, and despite the fact that were the ones giving me all the attention. When I got to high school, I was regularly asked for threesomes before ever losing my virginity.
Boys asked me to kiss other girls, and initially I complied. Boys would sometimes grope my breasts, or put their hands up my skirt, or make loud public comments about my body. I remember one time, after being called flat chested, shouting back at the guy “we can’t all have tits as big as yours! Additionally, I was on the wrestling team with a bunch of guys who respected me for my wholehearted commitment to the sport, and I think that helped.
I was repeatedly singled out for sexual attention of sexually directed harassment before I was even a teenager.
It’s very particular sensation, but hard to describe —for me, it’s almost like nausea mixed with sadness and shock.