One time, I was between eleven and thirteen years old, I went to a friend’s house to watch movies.
At some point, his parents left the house and we were left alone. He wanted to take advantage of the situation, and started kissing me, I don’t remember refusing that, but then, he wanted it to move on to something more. I had not had any sexual experience up to that point, and was quite ignorant on the subject. I felt scared and I didn’t know how to stop it. I gently said no a couple of times, he insisted, and like a child who had no tools to manage such a situation, the only thing I could think of was to turn my back on him, as a sign that I wanted him to leave me alone. To my surprise, that gesture had another meaning for him: it was taken as an invitation for me to lay him on my ass.
I felt Defenseless, confused. My ignorance did not allow me to see the situation with the eyes with which he saw it.
That day I understood how little it matters what we do, in a world where any action will be taken as an invitation and never as a refusal, if they so decide.
Because if you get upset and stand your ground, you’ll be boring or overreacting, because in the end “it wasn’t that bad.” But if you give in, then he will tell his friends and now everyone will start looking for you with the same intentions, because now you are “the easy one.”
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As I grew older I realized that I was always the one to blame. Like when I would innocently hug my friends at school, and then the teachers would scold me, telling me that “for me it was just a hug, but for them it could mean something more,” and of course, I was the one who had to put a stop to that. The responsibility was mine.
We are raised to please others, but not too much. We are required to “respect ourselves,” but no one explains to us what this means or why we are inherently disrespected, even in our greatest ignorance and helplessness.
“Why is it my fault? What did I do?” So many times I asked myself, never getting an answer.
And so we grow up, with that confusion and those traumas that will later potentially come to the surface. But while we do that, we have to remain beautiful, and complacent, and at the same time fight for our future in a world that believes us invisible unless we show our tits. And they continue to disrespect us, and we still don’t know how to respond. And we cry, and we complain; but then we are exaggerated crazy people.
And we get tired, and we give up.
Until (hopefully and after many mistakes), over the years we learn to have more filters when choosing who to surround ourselves with, although of course, we can never be truly sure when we go out on the street.
And the traumas remain, like scars on our way of being.
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I don’t mean to blame anyone, I just want to share a perspective that many of the men who follow my content may never have stopped to think about, and that I think is important to keep in mind when it comes to relationships.
Because being in a privileged position does not mean that you have done something wrong, or that you should lower your quality of life. But to be an empathetic person, and in my opinion a decent one, you should stop a bit from time to time to realize that not everyone is at the same level as you, nor did they start from the same conditions.
And that will help us understand, perhaps, that no one owes us anything and we should not use our power to demand it. That we should not manipulate by pretending to be victims when a person refuses to comply with a sexual request. That using a person for the purpose that is within your pants is not right and is boring. That insisting is not sexy. Knowing how to be a person is.
Because being treated like people, and not just objects, should be the norm, not a cursed luxury or a pleasant surprise.
Photography: @carlosrubiorecio
