When I was 14, I had my first boyfriend. One day, we spent the day biking around town. Suddenly it started to downpour and we were closer to his house than mine so that’s where we went. We got inside and were completely soaked after biking 10 minutes in the deluge. No one was home. Before I could even get to the phone to call my dad – we hear a banging on the door and yelling. My dad had showed up, he was pissed. He dragged me out of the house and screamed at me the whole ride home for having been there with my boyfriend alone. I tried to explain but he wouldn’t listen. Nothing had happened
I was 17, I dated a boy a year younger than me. He was some tall but skinny track kid, he posed no threat in my mind. He was immature but he was my first love. One afternoon, he tried to take off my pants after already having his partly down. He whispered something about sex. I begged him no – I wasn’t ready, I didn’t want to. He kept pushing. He got my pants all the way off as I struggled to stop him. Finally I ended up crying to hard that he stopped and stormed off to the bathroom. I felt bad.
When I was 18, I was still dating the same boy. I was at his house and I was sick. We were watching tv. He kept trying to get his hands in my pants, I wasn’t in the mood, I felt awful. He suddenly had his pants pushed down. He started to push my head down towards his dick. I fought. He then grabbed a handful of my hair and shoved my head down. As soon as he let go, I got up to try to leave the room. He grabbed my arm and stood up. I couldn’t get out of his grip. I was sobbing, begging him to stop. He shove me onto my knees and grabbed my hair again and forced me to blow him. Immediately after, I ran out the door to go home. As I went through the garage, suddenly I feel his arms grab me. I’m pushed against a wall, he’s screaming in my face. He punches a hole in the wall next to my head. He lets go. I run to my car, him still screaming. I try to unlock my door and suddenly I’m whipped around and pinned against my car. He punches my car. He holds my throat. I’m silently begging his parents to hear his screaming and to come save me. His eyes are crazed. He pushes me to the ground and suddenly stops screaming. He crumples onto my lap sobbing. I comforted him. This was not the first time he pushed me but he had never before gotten like this.
We broke up months later. He broke up with me. He spent months harassing me. He would call me and text me and guilt me every day. He would follow me to my car after school and corner me. He followed me to my summer job. He got in close with our managers, he made sure he was a constant presence in my life. I was scared so I got back with him.
When I was 19, a boy led me on for a whole semester at college. He kept feeding me sob stories so I’d come suck him off at his beck and call. I liked him. He didn’t give a shit about me. He played his work well. He got me to need him. He convinced me we would actually start dating soon but he just wasn’t quite ready yet. I bought it.
When I was 20, I dated a guy whose father was a misogynist, sexist pig. He would make jokes and say so many terrible things. He was terrifying and would yell at me on a regular basis. His son was too scared of him to stick up for me. I met him halfway through our relationship and for those last 6 months of it I endured an onslaught of constant verbal abuse.
When I turned 21, all of my family members lectured me on drinking and being aware of who was around when I was drunk. They warned me that being drunk would make me a target. Every. Single. One.
This past winter, a kid from my high school relentlessly tried to get me to break up with my boyfriend. He harassed me even when I told him to stop. We got drunk with friends one night and he tried to get me into his bed. He thought because he was so nice to me and I was having some relationship issues that meant that he deserved to have me.
This past semester, I made a new guy friend when my boyfriend and I were on a break. I was a mess. He thought he could slide in and win me over. I didn’t take the bait. After my boyfriend got back together, he’d get pissed off at the mention of his name. He yelled at me one night for getting back with him. He thought he was better for me. He again thought his niceness meant he deserved me.
This summer, I cannot walk outside into the city without getting looks. Horns honk, guys yell as they fly past in their cars, men stare. Other women will comment if you’re walking alone in certain areas. I spent an evening helping a woman and got harassed the entire time. In addition on that night, a man asked us if we needed help. I said no thank you and kept walking. He stood up and said well then at least can I have your name, phone number, and address. I ignored him. He then started to follow me and yelled to me HEY YOU KNOW YOU’RE REALLY CUTE and laughed to himself as he continued to follow us for the next block.
Since I met him this year, my close friend’s boyfriend has constantly harassed us to have sex or make out. He constantly suggests threesomes. It was a joke at first. Then he came up to me one day and asked me seriously, one on one. I told him to fuck off. I’ve asked him to stop saying that to me. He hasn’t stopped to this day.
Last night, the guy from last semester and I hung out with our friends and drank. One of my friends had informed me that he had recently told her that he was finally over me. I relaxed, we would finally be normal friends again. We went to the dock to smoke. He tried to put his arm around me. I hit him away. A while later I laid down to look at the stars and he followed suit but there was a large gap between us. Next thing I know, he rolled over to be right up against me and put his arms around me. I couldn’t get out of his grip. I panicked and struggled and started repeatedly saying no and nope. He started talking about how I had fucked up by not choosing him and that my boyfriend doesn’t deserve me. He ranted about how we are meant for each other. I was crying. I finally got free, yelled I have to go, and ran. In that dark and my compromised state, I fell over all the rocks. I tore the knee of my jeans and was bleeding when I twisted my ankle. I sat on the floor of the cottage’s kitchen sobbing for an hour being consoled by my other friends. My boyfriend’s phone was broken, his brother wasn’t answering his phone. Finally we went to bed and my friend had to push this guy out of our room when he walked in in the middle of the night. We woke up today and they all acted like it never happened.
These are the things that stick with me – glued to my being and my thoughts.
I tell you these.
You will never truly understand them.
You will not understand my fear.
You will never understand what it felt like.
You don’t get reminded of everything when still, 5 years later, my shoulder still aches sometimes from where my first love shoved me to the ground.
You will forget that I told you. It won’t weigh on your mind with every decision you make.
You will never truly know.
You tell me you’ll never do that to me, you tell me there are better people, you promise me I’ll make it through.
But come on, you can’t blame me for being wary though really can you? We don’t think it’s weird when someone says they were bitten by a dog when they were young and now they’re scared of them. We don’t question, we don’t insist that our dog is different. We just quietly lead the dog into another room and put them in their crate. We think this is a valid fear. Yet, everything I just said was far worse than a dog bite but if I were to tell you I was afraid of men – you would tell me I was being an irrational bitch."
why test on animals when there are prisons full of rapists
because the prisons aren’t actually full of rapists
the rapists run free and the prisons are full of people charged with weed possession
for my bday i would like every single mac lipstick and a boyfriend