Too often times society questions and often condemns women who have chosen to, at a later stage in life, come forth and speak up about sexual abuse, inappropriate touching, and about events which happened to them, long ago. I have never been one to question these women. In fact, I have often, easily and readily accepted this. I never questioned why I chose to believe. I never doubted, no, I never did. And recently, I came to my own acceptance and realization of #metoo!
Don’t get me wrong, I always knew that it happened. I just never considered or looked at it in that way. In our black community, we do not usually talk about these things. We know that it happens, but for some reason when it’s family and friends, we let it “slide.” We hide. We hide it. We hide behind the fact that it happened to us, to our family members, to our friends. We live in this world of hush hush sexual exploitation.
Ironically, I have never hidden the fact that it happened to me, I just never gave voiced to it. Perhaps, I never acknowledged it as “that” kind of attack. From the moment it happened, I knew that I was violated and disrespected. I knew most of all that it was wrong, and I did speak up then and there. However, what I never acknowledged, nor anyone around me is the severity of what happened, what could have happened and what nearly happened.
And this happened one time! By a friend of my mom’s. I can clearly see the day, waking up to some hand crawling up my leg. I jumped up. I was shocked. This was a family friend. I remember my mom being at work. I also remember calling her, my aunt, my stepdad. I remember these events clearly. i also remember thinking that he must be assaulting his own daughter. She was so shy and reserved and he kept her “locked” up a lot. She had no freedom, none. No friends, no life outside of daddy.
I do remember these things. And back then, all these actions I took showed that I understood it was wrong, that someone I trusted tried to violate me. Yet, no one I knew did nothing about it. Nothing!!!!
Nothing changed. We all continued on like it never happened. But it did. Perhaps because we trivialized it, I never thought of myself as a victim. But these days I’ve accepted it. I was touched. Although I may have escaped and I may be lucky that nothing else happened, but something did. And that touching, those gross slimy hands crawling up my legs was a violation of my person, of my rights, of me as a woman. I never asked to be touched, I never invited myself to be touch. I was never given a choice to choose. He took that choice away from me.
Why am I only know accepting this realization? It’s simple. I was having a late night discussion with a friend and we were talking about the recent scandal surrounding the now new Justice of the US Supreme Court Brett Kavanaugh, and my belief that the victim was indeed victimized. And it is during that discussion when I was relating my experience, that the light bulb clicked and the connection was made; that I was a hashtag, that I was a #metoo woman. That I was a victim.
And it is because of that realization that I am writing this.
#metoo! I was inappropriately touched! I was violated!
And as you read this, whomever you are, all I ask is that you GIVE US A CHOICE. Do not take that away from us. Let us choose whether or not we want you to touch us. Let us choose what kind of contact that we want with you.
Do not take our choice away from us, let us choose.
Recently, i was told by someone that he never touches a woman unless she makes the first move – that is wha tit should be like. Men should not take away our safe place or choice. Let us choose what we want, its our bodies, our choice.
And ladies, always remember and know that you HAVE A CHOICE. Don’t let any man make you believe other wise.
And SLUR says so…believe it