Tuesday, June 17, 2014

#YesAllWomen My Story

I really don't do the twitter thing much anymore. I'm only familiar with the #YesAllWomen movement because I've been reading about it on other women's blogs and have heard it mentioned on the news. Though nearly a month late, I have decided to re-work a post from April 2012 because right now might be the time for it. I see a lot of stories about the rape culture and harassment and assault in "public" places. Women dealing with fear walking to and from our cars, getting cat called, not being able to say no but having instead to say "I have a boyfriend" or "I'm married".

My experience with a disrespectful male happened in my own home. Where I should have been safe from "entitled" men. The only man entitled to anything about my body is my husband. Even then, I have the right to say no.

In the summer of 2011, one night when Larch was staying over at a friends house, I woke up to find a stranger at my window.

The window was open, as well as the blinds to let in the cool night air. I don't remember anything specifically waking me up. I just opened my eyes and heard someone at the window. At first, I thought it was Larch, trying to scare me or something. I think I may have said his name before remembering that he was probably drinking and smart enough not to drive home. Then, I realized the man outside my window was mumbling in Spanish. In lewd tones.And I could hear him, you know...touching himself.

Lily was still sleeping in a crib. Right under the open window. I was in the bed and could see out the window. Well, not so much "see" because of the time of day, but in the morning I can see kids walk to school without sitting up. I wasn't wearing much. It was summer and it was hot and we have no air conditioning. I slowly pulled the blankets up to my chin and said "I think you better leave." He didn't leave. He finished, then left.

I was surprisingly calm. As soon as he took off, I grabbed the 12 gauge shotgun from the closet and called the cops. Then I freaked out because my husband and my dad both, weren't answering their phones. I turned on all the lights and smoked in the living room. Yep. In the house. While my kids were home. I wasn't going to go outside for all the money in the world. I only barely cracked the door to talk to the officer who responded to my call. 

The pervert was never caught. I never heard any follow up from the police department. I would assume they cared. It only took 5 minutes for them to get to my house, and as soon as the officer got a description from me, he took off like he had just seen the guy walking down the street, which was very likely.

I'm fine now, but it took me a few weeks before I would let my husband touch me. MY HUSBAND. And a few more before I could change clothes somewhere other than the bathroom in the back of the house with a fogged glass window you can't see through.

I should not be responsible for the actions of a man no matter how I dress. I should not have to double check the backseat of my car before I get in after work. And I most definitely, should not be objectified by a stranger in my own home.

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