appalachianfeministcoalition: “Not being assaulted is not a privilege to be earned through the
appalachianfeministcoalition: “Not being assaulted is not a privilege to be earned through the judicious application of personal safety strategies. A woman should be able to walk down the street at 4 in the morning in nothing but her socks, blind drunk, without being assaulted, and I, for one, am not going to do anything to imply that she is in any way responsible for her own assault if she fails to Adequately Protect Herself. Men aren’t helpless dick-driven maniacs who can’t help raping a vulnerable woman. It disrespects EVERYONE.”-Emily NagoskiThese are our daughters. Mine and Ashley’s, that is. These are the beautiful, innocent, vulnerable girls we have brought into the world. Sometimes I get so angry thinking about the world they will enter soon that it feels like I can’t breathe. I can’t speak. How are we supposed to explain to them the way the world will see them? How do you make your daughters understand that the world won’t protect them? How do you teach your sweet, perfect children that they can do anything they want, but that those decisions can come at the cost of their safety? When nine year old girls aren’t allowed to wear “revealing” clothing to school, who are we protecting them from? Certainly not nine year old boys. Certainly not children who, unlike our daughters, won’t feel the societal pressure to cover up their bodies because they are seen as inherently sexual. Our daughters’ bodies are only sexual if you choose to view them as such. I am terrified of a world where our daughters have to fear walking down the street. I am terrified of a world where our daughters will meet men who feel entitled to their time, their bodies, their smiles. I am terrified of a world where my daughters will put up with the same shit I have. And I am terrified of what my response will be should a man ever touch our daughters without their enthusiastic consent.When I was eighteen years old, I went to a frat party with a couple of my friends. A guy walked up to me, asked for a cigarette, struck up a conversation. It seemed benign; I felt safe with my friends there to protect me. He acted very friendly and familiar with someone I had come with. When he went back to his apartment with us, I thought they knew one another. We went outside to smoke, just the two of us. He kissed me and I tried to push him away. I was too intoxicated to figure out how to explain that I didn’t like what he was doing. Rather than step back when I pushed him, he pinned me against a wall. Rather than fucking quit when I said to, he yanked up my dress and shoved his fingers in my pussy. Rather than understanding and accepting that when I tried to squirm away from his hand on my throat, he kissed my mouth to keep me quiet.I was lucky. My friend came outside and told him to leave. We went to bed and I was relatively unscathed. But for months - no, years - I felt guilty. I never talked about it. I thought that if I’d been a little less slutty, a little more vocal, it wouldn’t have happened. I was at fault for this man twice my size touching me in ways I didn’t want him to.Our daughters will know that they are in control of their bodies. Our daughters will know that when they say no, people better fucking respect it. And if any one of them, if anyone’s daughter calls me and tells me some man touched her when she didn’t want him to, I guess I’ll gladly catch that charge. I will viciously protect these girls until the day I die.-Katie -- source link