The F Word
(artwork by Lemon Sucker)
Oh, to be a Woman. To be vulnerable.
Regardless of our strength, we will always be seen as the weaker sex. We will always be the one taken advantage of.
When a Man is characteristically described as “Feminine”, it is oftentimes seen negatively, also making them vulnerable, because they are seen as weak.
I know everyone is prone to harassment, don’t get me wrong. But we all know this : If you have a Vagina, you are pretty much doomed.
I have had my fair share of harassment. Catcalling is another thing. But it is still gross and it would not be something I would pick if I were to choose “which is worse”, to me they are all equally disgusting.
I do not know where I am going with this post. I just had to say something because I’ve just experienced harassment of some sort and apart from crying a few minutes ago, I have to get this off my chest.
I would like to be wrong about this because this is involving someone I know. That is all I can say about the identity of my “harasser” who I am about 90% certain is responsible for this. If you say that I’m overreacting I’m going to shove my foot down your throat.
I’m such a Prude when it comes to my body. I’ve already said that in an old post. I value myself in that manner so much, so whenever something unusual happens I have the tendency to make a BIG deal out of it.
Before I end up blogging about today’s events, let me tell you a story which is in line with today’s fuckery.
It was sometime in 2014 when I went through what I would call is the WORST (and I pray to God that that is it, I should be armed with Pepper Spray no matter where I go, supposedly from then on out, but I don’t) — I was enrolled under a pretty well known Trainer, when on my last day, said Trainer offered to walk me to the door. Trainer’s gym was located in a public building so we had to take a lift to get to the first floor. As soon as the door closed, Trainer made a move to kiss me on the lips. Because I am a wuss (hopefully not anymore), I just laughed and tried to lighten the mood, trying to shrug it off and he ended up giving me an awkward hug.
Once we got to the First Floor, Trainer hugged me from behind and kissed me by my left ear. I broke free from him and politely tried to bid him goodbye. I should have done the obvious and kicked Trainer’s groin, but I did not. Instead, I insisted that I had to go because my Hubbs was waiting for me at the nearby mall (I usually walk to this Mall after my sessions because it’s awesome. I miss those days, except this particular one).
And then something really stupid happened. I KNOW, OKAY. You don’t have to tell me. Trainer felt uncomfortable because he knew he barked up the wrong tree. I could tell he was trying to make me forget his attempts, so he forced me (kindly, but still forced me) to take his offer for him to drop me off at said nearby Mall.
AND I SAID YES.
I am so fucking stupid.
Trainer was polite, did not touch me during the short trip, did not make any other attempt — UNTIL WE PARKED IN FRONT OF THE MALL’S DROP OFF POINT. He took my hand, motioned to kiss it, but instead asked me “WALA BA TALAGA?” and I fucking smiled. I fucking smiled and said “Coach naman, hindi po talaga, wala po.” And then I said “Thanks for everything” and got out of the car.
I could not feel my legs. And for the first time during all these sessions, it was not because of the work-out, obviously. I took a cab home and immediately told Hubbs what happened. I felt so dirty. I felt filthy. I wanted nothing but to be held for hours. It was a close call, anything could have happened.
I could not stop hating myself for being so fucking dumb. I have let my Mother down that day. At the young age of 5 my Mother taught me, if anyone touched me “there” and “there” I should kick the Man’s middle parts and run and run and scream and try to get as far from him as possible.
Trainer did not have to touch me in any of those parts for me to know that I should have done the same thing.
I’ve kept this story to myself and a few close friends for the longest time because I did not see the point of making a statement. Knowing how things work, it would surely be invalidated, especially when I am also at fault for not acting out on it the right way. Also, said Trainer is really famous. And because of that, I feel like I have let so many people down by not saying anything. And it is something I’m still working on forgiving myself about.
That’s the thing though, isn’t it? The blame’s always going to be on us. Not just somehow, but … for the most part, ALL THE TIME.
And then there’s today.
Used the gym at this place I usually hang out at. Left my stuff somewhere I assumed was safe (not the gym locker). Checked everything to make sure I did not misplace any of my unmentionables and saw that they were all in place.
An hour later I got them back to change to my casual clothes when I found out my Bra was missing.
MY BRA. My bra which I remember SO CLEARLY, stuffing in between my top.
Do I know who took it? You could say I do, very well. I would like to be wrong about it, and I hope I am. I hope my favourite bra turns up tomorrow. I hope I really did just misplace it. But I believe that is not the case.
Putting aside the fact that this Bra had a sentimental value to me and is one of my most favourites — I couldn’t help but cringe and die a little whenever I think about what is being done to my Bra as I type this entry.
I feel so fucking filthy and gross. I feel so harassed. So violated. Like I was molested.
This is what sucks when you’re a prude. If I wasn’t, I would have just shrugged it off, screaming SUCK MY BALLS to the space above my head and I would move on. But no.
My head is filled with visions of my Bra being … I can’t help it. My Bra. And I could not help but see what that person sees with my bra in sight and I am dying little by little inside.
I feel like the betrayal is a million times worse because it’s done by someone I actually KNOW and TRUST. I’m disappointed at myself for not being more careful knowing this person’s past and history. But I was forgiving.
Well duh, you can only be betrayed by someone you trust.
I know this is very vague to read and understand. Unfortunately I can’t give away too many details. I just feel so disappointed in everything — mostly at myself. Again.
It just makes me question everything because obviously I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THE FUCK I’M DOING. I have too much faith in people. I don’t have a limit to giving them the benefit of the doubt.
At the same time, I’m the only one who sees it as a big deal. I feel like I was physically touched and assaulted. That’s how big of a fucking deal it is to me. My underwear is in someone else’s possession.
I feel like talking a thousand baths tonight.
I wish I was not this affected but I fucking am.
I am not at peace AT ALL.
I really hope I’m wrong about this.
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