Tuesday 16-03-2021 - 09:02

CW: rape & abuse

 

So, this is supposed to be my monthly update article and I should have a lot to say because I haven’t written one since December! But, I just can’t find the words. 

I can’t find the words because right now, none of it seems to matter. Every sentence is typed, then deleted. Every word falls flat. I’m trying to think back through January & February, instead my mind goes to last week, then through High School & College, and always circles back to this number: 

97. 

The percentage of young women that have been sexually harassed*. 

The number alone isn’t surprising at all, I was aware of the extent of the problem. But seeing it printed, having your suspicions confirmed and then watching as it’s picked apart by those responsible, that hits hard. I almost feel outed, as though my dirty laundry has been hung out for all to see, labelled a victim but also accused of being a liar. 

Therefore, I’m going to be a victim on my own terms and here is my truth. 

I have no idea how many times I have been sexually assaulted**, it would be impossible to count. My first memories go back to High School, years 8-9 when I was groped almost daily - to the point where I had started to feel as though it was part of my identity and self-worth. I was groped so much that I thought it was normal. I was groped so much that I thought the male attention was a good thing. 

“But they were just young boys, they didn’t know any better.” 

I saw one of them again in a club about 3 years ago, he did it again. 

And this behaviour was supported by the school. There were too many staff, of all genders, that were quick to comment on the length of my skirt rather than the actions of the boy. Punishments were handed to girls whose bras could be seen through their school shirts after having water thrown over them, not to those who threw the water. 

This theme continued throughout my remaining years at High School, although years 10 & 11 were more serious. It became a hand up my skirt because we were at the back and there was just the two of us at that desk; a kiss at a party with someone’s boyfriend that he got away with by baking her a cake, whereas I was shunned and abused; having to check if the slap across my arse had left any bruises and would they show in my swimsuit; keeping on top of shaving because I could be flashed to the world at any moment. 

Eventually, I finished school and though the incidents were sparser, their seriousness only increased. 

At the age of 17, I went to my first music festival. On the last night, I lost my friends and had been wandering around asking people for cigarettes when I met a couple of men. They were in their late 30s, seemed nice enough and said they had some cigarettes back at their tent where they were having a campfire with the rest of their friends, specifying the presence of another female. So, I followed. 

I don’t remember how many times I denied his advances or much of what happened afterwards, but what started with giving in to ‘one kiss’ as payment for a cigarette, led to being raped by 3 older men in a tent and blaming it all on myself.

In college, after a week-long residential trip, a tutor pulled me aside to explain how my outfit choices had been unfair on some of the male staff. During this time, I was also very unknowingly, going through an extremely unhealthy and abusive relationship. I didn’t know because I had been taught that my body was here to please men and I thought I was really good at it. They couldn’t seem to control themselves around me so I must have been doing things right, right? 

His lack of control made me feel powerful and beautiful. I couldn’t see how sick and twisted it was, I didn’t understand what that truly meant for me. It meant I was raped. I was raped repeatedly for almost a year and it took a friend to point it out before I knew it was happening. Even then, it wasn’t ‘rape’ it was just “he’s not treating you right” and “you can do better”. 

It has taken years to be able to call each of those incidents what they were and it has taken writing this article to be able to tell my parents what happened. 

All of this has had immeasurable impacts on every aspect of my life and it’s not even all of it. I haven’t the time, space or mental capacity to relive every catcall, every moment on public transport, the one-night-stands when I was too drunk to say no, when dates have paid for me and so I ‘owed them something’, all the inappropriate workplace ‘banter' and touching. But the impacts are firmly etched into my brain, still seeking the approval of men. 

The worst part is, I don’t know how to unlearn it all and part of me doesn’t even want to. To this day, every outfit choice that I make is based largely around the men I’ll see that day, sometimes because of a lack of self-worth or to gain respect, but always for my own safety. 

So, don’t tell me #notallmen. Because I don’t know which men and, to be honest, it has been most men. I have never ever ever had a man stand up for me or stop any of those situations from happening, and trust me, there was ample opportunity. Unless you are actively fighting against something, then you are part of the problem. 

This silence has lasted too long. 

Be an active ally. We need you.

 

*Between the ages of 18-24. 80% across all age groups. 

**Sexual assault is sexual behaviour & contact that occurs without consent. Sexual harassment is a broader term that encompasses different types of unwanted sexual attention.