In kindergarten, a boy dragged me into the hidden spot in the playground and attempted to take my pants off. He said he saw it in a movie and hit me when I tried to run away. The teachers didn’t believe me, even though I cried.
When I was 10, I remember recoiling in disgust as my grandmother’s boyfriend pinned me down onto the table trying to get me to kiss him on the cheek. My white sundress flailed as I kicked my birthday gifts off of the table. My grandmother laughed at the sight of my hysterics.
Even then, I knew girls my age should not have to deal with that experience.
When I was 13, a much older man messaged me on the internet. He bombarded me with sneakily worded questions about my sexual habits. Did I watch porn? Did I liked to kiss boys? Did I like girls?
I would walk down the street grabbing onto my mother’s arm. Men honked from their cars, screamed out of open windows, and stared so deeply into my eyes that I felt violated. When I protested, I was told that this was normal and I should be glad that I was seen as an object of sexual desire. I was only 11, and I still barely knew my times tables.
On Oct. 8, exactly one month until election day, a tape surfaced of Republican presidential nominee Donald Trump graphically describing his attempts at seducing a woman and his methods of seduction. All across the country, a debate sparked as to whether or not Trump could be excused for saying these things. It was passed off as “locker room talk”, a practice justified as normal male behavior.
“When you’re a star, they let you do it,” Trump said. “You can do anything. Grab them by the p***y. You can do anything.”
My mind goes back to receiving a graphic video of a musician I knew receiving oral sex. It was an invitation to go to his party. They said it would be fine and I “wouldn’t be hurt.” I had a panic attack and threw up in the bathroom.
“I just start kissing them. It’s like a magnet. Just kiss. I don’t even wait.”
My mind goes back to the seventh grade, when my then boyfriend of less than a day held me to a concrete wall and stuck his tongue down my throat until I gagged. His friends cheered. That was just something boyfriends had to do, even though I didn’t consent to it.
Then I realized that it is not something boyfriends have to do. It is a violation of trust. He assumed I wanted it, and didn’t care if I protested. Neither did the boy in kindergarten or my grandmother’s boyfriend or the many men in my neighborhood. These men didn’t care that their actions are the reasons why I keep pepper spray in my bag and hold my keys between my fingers. These men didn’t realize that I now double lock all of my doors and windows, even though I live on the third floor. These men didn’t realize that I cannot speak to a man properly anymore and I have to keep my distance so I won’t get hurt.
Trump took advantage of his position of power to prey on other women, much like how my favorite musician took advantage of me. Even though I was only violated in a digital sense, it still stung. I still had to wash it off of me. I still cried.
It is Trump’s behavior and words that perpetuate the harassment I have gone through and the fear it has ingrained in millions of women. That behavior is why women have to change their walk home every so often and go out in packs. That behavior is why women are afraid to say no in the face of sexual harassment for fear of being vilified or hurt. This behavior is why we need to emphasize consent rather than misplaced dress codes and conduct rules. Women are not to blame for their assault, and we should not have to fix ourselves so that men will not harm us.
This is not simply “locker room” talk. It is an act of violence. I will not hide in the corner allowing for this to happen. The world is not your locker room.
Illo: Alex Gilbeaux