Women and sexual assault.

In My Humble Opinion
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Hallo. I am a man, and in the BBQ Pit I recently put up a thread related to the subject of this one. Here it is. FYI, I am feeling somewhat more calm than I was when I wrote that O.P.

I have not checked the totality of the thread, but I would like to offer an experience that might be somewhat “uplifting”. It involves my sister, and I don’t know whether it will bring a smile to anybody’s lips, but I am, many years after the fact, very proud of her.

When my youngest sister was 14, one winter evening she was accompanying a girl-friend of hers, same age, to her home. They went into the building where that friend lived, called the lift, and, while waiting for it, there suddenly was a guy in front of them who exposed himself to them, spouting obscenities. My sister’s friend was shocked and started to scream and cry. My sister, apparently calmly, looked at the guy and said: “You cretin, what do you intend to do with such a miserable little thing? Leave us alone, creep!”, grabbed him rudely by the arm (I must now say that my sister, at that age, was already playing rugby), pulled him bodily away from them, threw him out of the immediate area, got her friend into the lift (which had arrived by that time), went immediately up to that friend’s flat, locked themselves inside, and called the police. They arrived very soon, and were able to find the guy quickly. He was apparently still under the impression of having met my sister.

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I know this has been running for a while but I needed time to think before I shared. I was not ready before and the derailing put me off. Now that it is back on track - here is my TLDR story…

When i was 7, there was a neighbour boy who molested me, and until I was about 14 I neither thought of it nor understood what had happened. According to him, it was a game and it was fun, but it hurt, I didn’t like it and I never played that game with him or anyone else again.

Sometime after I lost my virginity, I realize what had happened back then, but I thought it didn’t traumatize me, but it seemed every boy wanted only one thing, and would pressure and pressure.

First boy I slept with, I picked because he was good looking and I no longer wanted to be a virgin.

It was years before I had a positive sexual experience again - one that was given out of love or lust - one that I did not regret.

Second boy, it was because he pressured so much I gave in, and that made me feel guilty. I thought I was a tramp and I hated myself. After the second boy, for about a year I gave in any time there was pressure, because I either feared anger or rejection from the boy.

During this time I had only tried to fight off a boy twice, once I kicked him so far - he slammed against a wall and I was successful fighting him off and the boy realized that I meant no when I said it. The other time, the boy involved waited till I was more drunk than I could handle and just did not listen to the word no. He seemed like he was listening to no, and all would be alright until I passed out from drunkenness and he decided that he’d remove my clothing and screw me anyway. When I realized what was happening I just pretended to remain asleep and hoped it would be over soon. For years I did not realize that the second incident was rape.

Not long after New Years of that very year, I ran away from home - I had other trauma. My step-father was emotionally & physically abusive - a smack upside the head and giving me something to cry about was his hobby. My mom seemed to take his side, and my mom & I would have fights that were nearly epic, and I couldn’t live there. I was angry and sullen, and I would take my anger out on my little sister by fighting with her, and I was cruel. Even moving to my dad’s place didn’t offset my anger, and I wasn’t to escape. Running away was my escape. My dad could not control me, so I drifted between his home and the streets from this time until I was just over 18 years old.

I had a group of friends who also were troubled, and they too would run away from home - we’d hitchhike from Calgary, to Vancouver, to Edmonton, to Toronto, to Montreal, and back. We lived in abandoned warehouses, punk houses, and sometimes even slept outside.

This world I escaped to was far more dangerous. Most of the time I hitchhiked with friends, but there were times I hitched alone. More than once a bad ride would occur while on the road, but luckily I was never molested more than a hand on my thigh and forceful words which I could and did say no.

More than once I bartered myself in exchange for safety, a place to sleep or even for hope that someone would take care of me. I never exchanged myself for money, but that is an extremely fine line - and I know what I was doing now. The closest I ever got was once I gave a hand-job to a man on the promise of a modeling contract.

I never saw myself as prostituting myself, but I did. I had friends who were street prostitutes, and to be honest, I had considered it more than once, but I never got up the nerve to do it. There were times when the price was too high for me to barter myself.

In Edmonton where a girl I knew had a boyfriend, his roommate wanted to share a bed with me, but I did not want to sleep with him - so I feigned being broken hearted over someone else, and the next day I hitchhiked back to Calgary alone.

One time on the way to BC with 4 other friends the truck driver wanted me to sit beside him the whole time, and when he pulled into a motel room, my 4 friends thought I was the exchange price too - and made sure they had the other beds in the hotel room, but wanted me to share the bed with the old trucker. I was so against it, the trucker went back to his truck and left us.

Sometimes the price was the lesser of two evils. One time on the way back from Vancouver, the male hitchhiking partner and I got picked up by a guy who was supplying us massive drugs, and when he brought us back to his home in small town BC, he fed us more booze. Although I had no love nor lust for my male companion, I knew he had these feelings for me, so I exploited them for safety & flirted strongly with him to make sure by the time I was knocked out - I was already in a bed with him safely instead of passed out and possibly a victim of the crazy drug man.

During these almost 4 years from my mom’s house to the streets and into adulthood, there were only two boys out of over 40 boys and men whom I had slept with for whom I had any feelings - neither one shared the feelings I had for them - and in my mind I was a tramp & a slut - so even if they had, I would not have been accepting nor thought myself deserving of their love.

The last incidents took place when I was 18. I had found myself and older man, a sugar daddy who was over 20 years older than I was, he’d take me to dinner, pay my rent, and even give me money for nights out. I was not in love, and my attraction for him was quite low, although he was not ugly, the age difference did affect my view of him. He took very good care of me, but I was a drinking & partying fiend - and one day at the pub with a man I knew. He said he had to stop at him place to pick up some weed, before going out again - and while we were at him place - he forced me down on his bed & proceeded to try to get his way with me. Luckily he had empty bottles of booze on his headboard which I proceeded to use against his head until he realized that I meant no.

Strangely enough - I decided to move back to my mom’s place and forget about the sugar daddy. I still was promiscuous, but at least the boys were friends or boyfriends whom I had some sort of bond & attraction for, and eventually I had my first live in boyfriend - although choosing him was not that wise in retrospect. He’d drink too much, he was jealous and controlling - and later diagnosed with schizophrenia. My second live in boyfriend wasn’t much better, he was also controlling and would often pressure me into sex, which I still had no ability to counteract.

My third live in boyfriend is where I healed. I started to believe that I deserved better and that I was neither a slut, whore, tramp or damaged goods. His gentle nature and good heart healed me, but the passion died & I feared the relationship could go no further. Because I was stronger thanks to him, I could leave him. I owe him much in my heart and soul, and I have no idea if he knows although we didn’t work out, that he meant so much to me, and I never meant to hurt him.

I have only had one incident of PTSD - recently there was some sort of CSI show where a woman had gone missing & was forced into prostitution - she was walking down the side of a road when a pimp picked her up - and she was broken & put out to work. At the end of the episode, I had a panic attack and I remembered a similar incident almost happening to me. I was walking towards a bridge with a male friend of mine when a car stopped to offer us a ride, when I was half way in - and my male friend outside the vehicle, they started to move. I looked at who was in the car, and it was a couple working girls, and their pimp. I reached out to my friend & jumped out. During this time period, right before the 1988 Olympics, two girls I knew had been kidnapped, raped, beaten & put out to work, where they had subsequently escaped. I could have gone through what they did, and that panicked me because I never realized how close I had been.

I am married now, and I know unless I had forgiven myself that I would never be where I am now - my husband respects & loves me, never controls nor pushes anything. He is kind & gentle, and he can also be playful and wild. He is patient with me, and although he’ll never understand what I have gone through, he supports me in both the best & worst of times.

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A friend’s mum blew the whistle on my dad. I remember my sister catching me listening at the door to my mum and dad arguing. She went to pull me away and noticed my heart was thumping hard in my chest. This was my big sister. I protected her from my dad (or so I thought). He made me get into bed with his friends who were visiting. He would hide me under the sheets on a Sunday and I would get into trouble with mum for having wandered off - no one could find me. He said he would use my sis if I didn’t cooperate.

To this day I will avoid locking a bathroom door, he used to send my brother and sister out of the bathroom after bathing to use me. When he’d done he’d slap my head - to make me forget. After sex I sometimes get all tense, waiting to get hurt. The doctor examined me and my sister. I heard him say to the nurse - I can’t tell her (my mother) it’s both of them. Well, anyway they knew it was me, so I never told anyone what I heard - my sister still doesn’t know. I thought my dad should be kicked out, but apparently it was his home, so I asked to be put in a home. At the home one of the girls was sleeping with one of the little boys. I told. I was sent home - I don’t know how long I spent in the home, but when I got back I tried to avoid my dad but he forced me - “Just get on with it”

Hey there’s a ton more stuff far far uglier than this excerpt, but it’s too dangerous to think about. The really odd thing is that somehow it all went far far back in my mind so by the age of 15 I didn’t remember why, but I knew I had sworn to myself to get out of that place as soon as it was legal to. I ran away from home at 15.

You know what’s the worst thing? I had to lie to my mother, I had to lie to my sister - I don’t think I’ve ever trusted anyone.

Things came to a head a few years ago, I was terrified to sleep in a bed - things were looming over me, I couldn’t control the heart beating thing, I couldn’t get to sleep until dawn broke, then be a wreck at work all day, terror. I slept on the floor - if I could sleep. I used to hurry home to sleep after work so I wouldn’t have to sleep at night. Little scenes played over and over and over. Eventually I lost my job through exhaustion and not sticking up for myself. I couldn’t stop crying, I used to tell people it was allergies. The covering up is the worst part, I don’t think I’ve ever been innocent. I was robbed.

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Upon reflection I wanted to mention as a street kid, every female friend without reservation had been molested, and some told stories as horror filled as the stories I have read here. Not one girl among the street kids who was my friend had made it out of their teens without being assaulted in some way again.

In my world of youth it was terribly uncommon not to be promiscuous, not to have had at least one abusive boyfriend, not to have compromised your morals for safety, but when I left the streets and I was among the people who I has seem as normal and those who I assumed had lived sheltered lives, I was surprised how many women had been through similar situations.

Reading through the non-arguement parts of this thread has been helpful - just as helpful as when I told my secrets to my friends, and listened to theirs when we’d be drinking beer by candle light in an abandoned warehouse. I was nervous about posting because there is always the possibility of someone who is smart enough, or someone who knows me, figuring out exactly who I am and reading this, but I realize that my experiences in life have made me stronger, and that anyone who would judge me by my past does not deserve to be a part of my life.

It helps to feel like you are not alone, and that there are others who understand how you feel, and that there are people who are both sympathetic, and supportive. It helps to keep the fear at bay, the pain & guilt behind you, and the anger put aside. Those here who have never gone through any assault are closer to understanding those who have, and they are closer to understanding why some women are afraid, or mistrustful of men, even though most women know that most men are good.

So thank you to the OP, and the moderators and everyone who posted here.

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10% - those who have experienced no abuse as per the poll.

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And, yet, most women I know don’t actually seem to be afraid that every guy is going to molest them. At least, they aren’t afraid enough to articulate said fear, or even to show it. To the point where, when I have seen it, it’s usually a really, really battered woman who has been through a lot of abuse.

That’s what bothers me. The extrapolation that, I’ve been abused once by a man, so every man is an abuser. It’s no better than people who see a black criminal, and assume all blacks are criminals. You logically know it is untrue, you know the belief is offensive, so why articulate it?

The other reason is that I tend to see fears as things to get over. Why choose to accept being afraid, rather than working on that fear? Why is it something we men have to be sensitive to, but not something you have to at least try to get a handle on?

Heck, why is the number of women who have been abused more relevant than the number of abusers? That’s where you would actually get some logic involved. If a high percentage of men are rapists or molesters, then it would make a lot more sense to be wary of everyone.

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I think it’s because the stakes are high. It would only take one occurence to really fsck up your life for quite a while.

It’s like fire insurance on your house. In all likelihood you will never suffer a house fire. However, even if it only happened once it could be quite devastating. Are you a “overly fearful” if you buy fire insurance? Insist that people don’t smoke in bed? Check appliance cords for fraying? Refrain from running cords beneath rugs? Heck, my parents even had us to do fire drills from time to time, to make sure we kids knew the fastest way out of the house.

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It is not too much to ask, I think, that if somebody wants to wade into an emotionally charged topic like this and start demanding explanations in such a haughty way, and imply if not state directly that it’s offensive for the conversation to have taken the direction it did, he should have read the discussion and understood it before doing so.

This is not a thread about how “every man is an abuser.” Nobody thinks that. Nobody articulated that.

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I know it’s a confusing subject - and it seems you’ve contradicted yourself with the first two sentences above.

The thread topic is women and abuse - do you feel the abusers are getting left out - I guess you’re free to start that poll, but I’m not sure you’ll get many responses.

Jimmy Chitwood Well said.

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Well, some women answered more than one of the situations, and some (if not all) of the people who answered the last question were men. So I’m not sure what to make of the numbers, since there’s no way of knowing exactly how many women actually did answer this.

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If you remove the last question from the accounting (for the sake of the issue, I’m going to assume all of the respondents are men), 13.74% of women who participated in the poll have never felt themselves to be in a sexually negative situation.

In contrast, 19.8% of respondents reported having been raped, either by an acquaintance or a stranger.

This is not a scientific poll and may not be representative of the general population. (Actually, I would hypothesize that a poll of the general population would result in even worse statistics.)

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Wait, no, that’s not right. Some people could have responded to both of the questions re: rape. So my numbers are screwed up. nvm.

(I actually went to take a shower after posting that and realized my error in the middle of the shower. I had to finish up in a rush and run back to the computer to correct that before anyone else did. :rolleyes: at self.)

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Well, that’s a small relief anyway. I realised the 10% would be a little off after posting but it, but as you’re saying some people would have clicked more than one of the abuse options, which would make the non-abused figure higher. Still it illustrates Kyla’s point that it’s pretty common.

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This videoclip is from a documentary about how music videos create a culture with a negative sexual attitude of women. It has violent scenes of real sexual abuse filmed out in public with ‘average’ men attacking innocent women. As a woman who has also been to out-door parties and loves to attend concerts, I have also had my body parts grabbed and my clothes tugged on. I’ve luckily not been stripped or pinned amongst a group of guys who were abusing me (just single encounters), but I’ve made sure to only go to concerts where such things might happen with a male escort.

I find it hard to believe that there are woman who say that they aren’t afraid of male strangers or worry about rape. You aren’t in the least bit wary? I mean, I don’t let my wariness of male strangers stop me from going up to and talking to them and asking questions, but it has definitely stopped me from doing things that many of my male friends would do.

For example, would any of you women who claim no fear of male strangers allow a man or a group of men to pick you up if you went hitch-hiking? In some parts of the United States and in the world, hitch-hiking is a very common method of transportation. Some of my male coworkers have hitch-hiked all over Central America. I’ve also hitch-hiked around here and given lifts to hitch-hikers and I’ll only pick up men when I’m alone if I know him/them. I’d never pick up male strangers unless I’m with a man and, even then, I’ll limit the number of male strangers. Likewise, when I’ve hitched, I’ve never accepted a ride from a man when I was alone. When I’m with female friends, then I’ll only accept rides from men if we outnumber them. When I’m with males, then I follow the regular standard rules of hitch-hiking.

What about accepting an open drink from an unknown man at a club? I’d never do that.

Going to a club without a male ‘guard’? Depends on the club, but I’ve been to some where a male guard is required to avoid harassment from males who won’t take ‘no’ for an answer. I’ve been followed around and appealed to bouncers who did nothing to stop the creepy behaviour. The sad thing is, I was once harassed by a man when I was in a gay club with a group of female friends. Luckily, a sweet gay man saw what was happening and quickly pulled me against him to get the other guy to leave me alone.

What about travelling in a foreign country without a male travel buddy? I’ve done this myself in certain places, but there are countries and areas of certain countries I’d never dare go without a male escort. I’ve heard horror stories from other female adventurers about things that have happened. I’ve had a few narrow instances here in Costa Rica where I’ve foolishly gone somewhere isolated with a male I didn’t know very well alone. Was I raped? No, but I have been groped and kissed far beyond the point where I felt comfortable. Once, when I refused to let him move the situation further, he treated me like dirt and nearly abandoned me in the rain in a town several miles from the one I was staying in.

Drinking with a group of strangers? My co-worker recently went to Nicaragua alone and got pass-out drunk. I’d never, ever dream of attempting such a thing. If I did and got raped, I’d be blamed for getting so drunk around male strangers.

I could go on, but I’d be shocked if there was a woman on here who did those things without batting an eye or worrying once for her safety.

Some women are harassed more than others, attractive women especially so. I don’t mean to imply that the women who claim that they aren’t harassed by male strangers are ugly, but I have noticed that my model friends receive far more attention from males and lot more harassment in general. It even varies depending on how attractive that female is in that culture. For example, I have a friend who is OK by American standards, but gorgeous in Costa Rican standards. She has a lot more persistent suitors here than back home, even though she hasn’t changed herself at all.

Likewise, in some parts of the States, I’ve faced far more harassment than in other parts, even though I’m the same person travelling through those areas. Some of this is in part to a greater acceptability of harassment of women in those cultures.

When I took the poll, I didn’t check I have been sexually assaulted by a male stranger. even though I have been groped and grabbed because it has happened quite a lot and I don’t even think of it as assault anymore, even though it really is and I hate it every time it happens.

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See, I go to concerts by myself, but I seem to go to the ones where those things do not happen. I probably do not like the music offered in the ones where such things MAY happen.

I don’t think I can’t say I’m NEVER worried about male strangers, because sometimes I am. But most of the time, it is NOT the thought of rape, or just rape. It is the thought of mugging. I’m only 5’ 1". I DO get a bit wary around ANY tall guy (bonus points if white, sorry). Heck, I was apprehensive of my boss before I got accustomed to him (and he is an upright man).

But many of the situations you post (and other posts when they mention what they “look out for”)… they are situations in which both men and women, IMHO, should be wary about.

And I HAVE done things that many of my male friends and relatives would NOT do. Because I’m not afraid and wary or even if wary, I take the risk.

I do not understand your term hitch-hiking… I understand when it relates to strangers, but you mention men you know or friends… Wouldn’t that be “giving a lift”? Because if it is the later, I’ve given lifts to many male friends, not wary. Strangers, never. But I don’t let strangers into my car, whatever their sex or sexual orientation is.

I don’t accept drinks from any stranger, period. Man or woman, a stranger has no reason to just randomly give me a drink. If it is a drink prepared in front of me, paid by someone else, yes (because I’ve seen it done and served).

I regularly DO go clubbing alone. My motto was “Get there alone, leave ALONE.” I DO understand the concept of male guard, though. That’s why I meet the bartenders, and that is why, even though we came separate, I sometimes end up hanguing with male or female friends I know, instead of by myself.

But you know, that doesn’t always work. I would go clubbing, be next to my partner, and still get talked by strangers. I would point out that I was with someone else… and they would STILL keep going. I just ignored it.

Done that multiple times. To Spain and to Brazil. Granted, I know the languages spoken in those countries. And I’m not a wild party person, so I do tend to finish my walking around early and go to bed.

But thanks for reminding me about my trip to Spain. Where I got uncomfortable walking around a public park, trying to get rid of a creepy old (drunk) guy who was “showing me the park”, but wouldn’t let me go. Bah. It did sour my experience in the park a bit, but it opened the door to another adventure (how the hell do I get to the metro station from the weird park exit I took to get rid of him?). And it didn’t spoil the fun and adventures I’ve had later.

Not much of a drinker, but really, drinking to the point of getting passed out drunk in front of strangers is IMHO silly for both men AND women. For me, drinking to getting passed out drunk is silly anyways.

I do understand this, but then, I’ve been catcalled when I’m NOT dressed to impress, so I don’t think there is a lot of reasoning in that. And also, I don’t consider most catcalls harassment.

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I’ve done that, but I’ve noticed a MAJOR difference in treatment between traveling alone v. traveling with male friends. I went to Colombia with three friends, who of whom were guys, last March. We had a great time, no real problems. The only negative memory I have (except for the 22.5 hour bus ride from Cartagena to Bogota) is of going to the beach in Cartagena. I’d forgotten to bring a swimsuit, so I volunteered to watch all the stuff while my friends swam. Cartagena is the most touristy destination we visited and we had been approached by vendors trying to sell us shit before, but they went away pretty quickly when told that we weren’t interested. But by myself? These guys were really fucking persistent. Some of them were clearly offering me more than cheap sunglasses. I didn’t feel endangered - my friends weren’t that far away, there were other people on the beach - but it did drive home that women get treated differently than men.

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Some men no doubt wade into this thread and see it as being hostile to men. I imagine it’s sort of like being a woman and wandering into a thread full of men commiserating over having their hearts broken by women. You just cherry-pick statements and see a bunch of men talking down women–when you should be seeing a bunch of heartbroken men sharing their pain. This thread is for the women to share their experiences and shed some light on a problem that is swept under the rug a lot of the time.

It seems unnecessary to me to come into a thread as emotional as this and try and defend your gender as if it’s an “us against them” battle. It seems a much better idea to try and see where the women are coming from and perhaps learn a few things in the process. Even an old man like me can learn a few things in here.

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I just read a post about this ad on the Frisky. It seems pretty relevant to the thread.

The ad is part of the Welsh Assembly Government’s campaign that “seeks to tackle the behaviours that lead to violence against women.”

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That’s a good example. I was at the hospital yesterday getting blood tests and a CT scan, I was also treated to a couple of “tit scans” by two different doctors.

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Even more to the point, here’s a video from the same group where hidden cameras capture the, um, affection given to a couple of women walking the street in broad daylight. Do be sure to stick around for 2:25. Can’t for the life of me figure out what bothers them about it… just look how much they’re appreciated.