victim shaming

Why some women tend to be stupid bitches

This post will contain a lot of swearing.

I will be rude.

I will vent.

I am frustrated.

I’m starting to believe more men hate women out there than we believe.  Have you been reading about these rape cases lately? No, it’s not that rape is bad enough, now they’re gang raping, mutilating, like it ain’t shit. What must happen? What?

I wanna understand. I wanna know WHY. I know the basics, the textbook version of things, but that can’t be it because I’ve been taught that what we can learn, we can fix, but this here is some shit I don’t think anyone was ready for.

See, I’m not scared. No not really. Not for me anyway. I’m scared for the women who walk around with their heads held high, oblivious to what’s going on around them. The ones who think rape is “sad” but, it doesn’t involve them. The ones who have better shit to do than think about that.

What I wanna know is, don’t they understand that what affects one woman really affects us all? Honey, if they begin to hate us, they hate us all. They don’t hate the Blacks, or the Fat ones, or the Rich ones, we are ALL at risk every time we step out the house.

It appalls me that a lot of women are so detached from other women. Who else do you have other than us? I’m not saying men are shit, I’m not saying you can’t depend on them, but ask any female, the biggest issue women have amongst themselves, is other women.

We do not trust each other. We do not care about each other. We do not relate to one another and we do not listen to each other.

The 17 year old that gets raped is not you so you can’t feel that. The 25 year old who’s kidnapped and abused in front of her son is not your sister so you can’t feel that. The 50 year old woman who gets abducted, raped and murdered is murdered is not your mother so you can’t feel that. The 75 year old woman who gets strangled and sodomized is not your grandmother so you can’t feel that.

“It’s sad but..”

I’m saying you SHOULD feel it because on some level, these women are JUST LIKE YOU.

You have different names, stories, beliefs but you are women and considering how SHIT things are lately, what would it hurt to support one another?

I got to thinking about protests after going through my Twitter TL, but their effectiveness is not what I’m here to discuss. It got me wondering… Out of all the women I know, I promise you, less than 10 would be willing to march against rape, or any other injustice women face. Less. Than. 10.

How do I feel about that? I’m pissed off. I’m saddened. Because those who wouldn’t, are those who subscribe to victim shaming, those who turn a blind eye, those who would rather run to the boyfriend who assaults her because she’s convinced herself HE is what she needs.

This is shit.

Fucking. Shit.

Charlize Theron once did a PSA on Rape and stated that every 26 seconds a woman is raped in South Africa. 26 seconds. That’s basically 4 women per minute. For all I know the statistics are worse now.

You are a potential walking statistic, and you still think it doesn’t have shit to do with you?  As much as I respect choice, I can’t respect that one. I won’t.

I suggest you download that and tell me if that didn’t scare the shit out of you. If it didn’t reach a place in you not many things can. I’d like to know if you still think it’s such a far away Evil now.

This right here is what I wish would happen.

Women need to get mad. We need to start to live and protect OURSELVES now, not the perpetrators. We need to stop trying to be Ladies and NOT cause a raucous because we don’t wanna be judged.

The fuck are we trying to act right when we’re being treated wrong for?

Fuck that.

Fuck it.

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Well,what did she do to get herself into such a situation?

So what happened was, I was 11 and in the living room watching a movie. It was late. I was with my cousin. He was 14/15 at the time. He was like a brother to me. We shared eggs at breakfast,he’d eat my maize meal when I didn’t want it and he taught me how to climb trees.

There was Trust,there was Peace, there was Comfort. And because these three things existed,I didn’t notice when he started looking at me differently. I didn’t notice the new interest he’d taken in whether I had a boyfriend or not. Or his particular insistence that I wear my grey shorts cos it was hot. The thought of any kind of attraction never crossed my mind because only dirty men saw their female relatives that way and I was not related to any.

As I watch the movie I notice he keeps on staring at me. I ask why and he says Nah,he’s just thinking about something. I ignore it and sink down into the chair. I’m  home,fuck it. He comes to sit next to me.

Now, this, this is when it all clicks. I panic internally. I want to cry. I hope I’m wrong. I lay perfectly still and feel my whole body tense up. As he begins to speak I jump up, “The movie’s boring” and with that,I fuck off to my room as fast as possible.

I can’t sleep. I cry. Because for the first time, I’m uncomfortable in my own home because of someone I was naive enough to trust. I’m in shock. I think maybe I overreacted. But maybe I didn’t. I doze off and wake up to him attempting to shut my bedroom door as quietly as possible. “Fuck,I’m fucked” I think. My mother. Her room is directly across from mine. I hate her then,a little,for not giving me my bedroom key.

He sits on my bed. Says he wants to talk. It’s 3AM. I tell him I’m asleep,he says it’s fine. He can talk til I sleep..and do I sleep naked? I’m unable to react. I don’t know what to do. As I begin to accept the fact that maybe,just maybe,I’m about to get raped with my mother in the next room,a door opens. My mother opens my bedroom door,looks at me,terrified,looks at him,looking guilty,and simply asks him to leave my room. He does. She looks at me. Stares. Then goes to her room,comes back and gives me my room key. No words are exchanged.

I wake up and wish I didn’t have to face anyone. The sun makes the night’s evils that much more sinister,shameful,and true. We continue as if nothing happens. The day passes by flawlessly and I think, I’m such an idiot for even entertaining such thoughts. I’m silly.

The sun goes down,and yet again,it’s movie time. He sits away from me this time. During a break I go to the toilet,come back and he’s sitting in my spot, I protest, he says “What’s the issue?Sit on my lap if you like the seat so much” and I freeze. Fuck. Again? I move away and he gets up,towers above me,pushes me down,thrusts his hand into my top,squeezes my breast and forces his finger into me. I push him away and tell him should he ever touch me again,I will kill him. I don’t know if I mean it. I’m 11. But I’m all kinds of fucked up and..I just might.

He leaves the next day. Doesn’t visit for 2 years. I don’t need to see him. I forget.

A friend tells me her step dad tried to rape her. As she speaks,I get flash backs. I break down. We cry,in school,on a bench, unashamed. I make a promise to tell my mother that night. The ride home is Hell.

I am not ready,but I must. I walk into her room,sit,look away,try not to cry and ask “What would you say if I told you I’ve been molested.” The look on her face…she shatters. “Heeeh?” I repeat what I asked, begin to cry and tell her.. Then her face goes blank. “Well,wena what did you do?I told you about those shorts.” “But I was at home…” “But you were around men,didn’t you know?” I leave.My mother and I don’t speak for months but it’s evident that it’s something I shouldn’t discuss. It would shame the family.

I text my other cousin on one of the mornings when I’m high on pain killers and can’t go to school..He tells my other cousin,who calls and asks about it. Things get messy. They know now,so I deny it. I can’t deal with having to explain.

By now,anyone can tell. I was walking through a mall with a male friend and ran into him. We exchange greetings and I leave. As much as he’s someone I’ve loathed at some point,I am civil when I see him. As we walk away my friend asks “Who is that guy bruh?He was looking at you like he’s BEEN wanting to fuck. It was creepy.” My response? “That’s my cousin,and I know.”

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