#MeToo
#MeToo
It has been trending on Twitter as women from all walks of life are raising their voices against sexual assault by telling their stories. I’ve read a few of them; it’s always the same.
I go numb.
On the outside, I’m angry. Why do people have to go through such horrible experiences? Why would someone hurt another human being like that?!!
I always want to say something, but I stop myself. Only a few people know my story; I’m a very private person. I only speak to a select group of people, but for some reason I feel like I should tell my story. Not behind a keyboard, anonymously on a website, but here, where there is a picture of me, where everyone will see who I am.
It started in fourth grade. I always thought I was an ugly girl. Big buck teeth, untamable hair, and a lazy eye. I hated looking in the mirror, and still hate it to this day. Back then I had no friends. That summer, I had to take a summer class and was also in camp. My kid-self was excited, the camp’s theme was space, and back then I wanted to be a scientist so bad! I thought this summer camp thing was going to be fun, so I went without a second doubt.
Then I met him. I remember his name, Carlos. He was older than me, and was actually talking to me! The ugly, stupid girl no one wanted to hang out with! I welcomed the friendship; in fact, I thought it was the best thing to happen to me.
I don’t know how long it was, but he started getting handsy. Being innocent, I thought it was OK. We were friends. It was bothersome, and I didn’t like it, but it wasn’t something wrong…right?
I then mentioned it to my mother, who told me it was wrong and I should tell him not to do it.
Upset when I got to school, I told him he couldn’t do it anymore, but he insisted on continuing. He’d stick his hands down my pants, and I’d suck in my stomach so at least I wouldn’t be ugly while this was happening.
Then, after a while, he forced me to touch and kiss him. I remember feeling grossed out. I had no idea what was I supposed to do.
Once he had me go down on him.
I never told anyone, how could I? I was unpopular, even teachers didn’t like me. My mother didn’t really react. I don’t blame her, I probably didn’t tell exactly what was happening.
After that, I’ve always had a warped view on sex. After that, I’ve always avoided the male gaze.
I never knew whether to feel flattered or disgusted when old men catcalled me, or when a guy in my history class spent half of the year trying to take my bra off and touch me because a condom, that belonged to a girl I thought was my friend, fell out of my backpack when I pulled out my notebook.
In my eyes, I’ve always been ugly, but at the same time I wanted love. For someone to like me, not because I had a nice rack or ass, but for the person I am.
And even when I got to fall in love, I always feared they were with me because they wanted to use me.
Even now I feel like my boyfriend doesn’t love me, that I don’t deserve anyone to love me. I’m ugly and fucked up.
I don’t blame it all on him, hell he probably doesn’t understand how bad he fucked me up. Maybe I’ve always been a fucked up kid, but I know I sure as hell didn’t deserve to feel dirty. I used to feel as if my body was the only thing that mattered. That men would only love me if I had a pretty body, after all I have an ugly boring face.
It’s gotten better though. I’ve found ways to cope and reading other women’s stories has really helped. I feel like I can get through my issues too. At 27, I’ve lived so much, loved so much.
My mission now: learn to love myself so I can give love to others.
