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A friend of mine was harassed today while out walking. It wasn't the first time she has been subjected to cat-calling, but today it upset her enough to post about it. It made her feel vulnerable, despite the presumed “compliment” (on the part of the men doing the hollering).
Many of the women on my flist have been posting in response to this. The talk about how they feel, about what it’s like to feel threatened when there’s a man behind you in a hallway or following you into the bathroom at a club.![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
twistedcat makes some great points here: http://twistedcat.livejournal.com/1080747.html.
I want to speak to my experience, not with strangers, but with friends. My friends work faire. They are sexual beings (and proud to be so). We are very cuddly. At parties the women dress in revealing and sexy costumes. And there is a prevailing air that that freedom doesn’t come with a price, but it does.
I at one point had myself trained to swing around ready to clobber someone when my butt was touched. Now, if I’m in a familiar environment I peak over my shoulder to see who it is. If it’s not someone to whom I’d allow the liberty I scowl and tell them to back off. But the fact that they took that liberty pisses me off. Am I in such a permissive group that people can touch me without asking? I mean really.
Recently I was hanging out with a friend, watching movies. We were snuggly. We’ve kissed at the occasional party, but really we aren’t sexual. At some point in the evening, as a joke (if I recall correctly) he put his hand on my breast. No! Not allowed! And I told him that. But what the fuck made him think it was OK?
At one party this year I was wearing a thong under a translucent skirt, much more revealing that I normally wear. What happened? Everyone told me I had a nice ass. I was embarrassed both by the compliment itself and the fact that I liked being complimented even while the language made me uncomfortable. I had one friend though that couldn’t keep his eyes off me and couldn’t stop commenting about what a great ass I had. It made me angry. I didn’t dress that way for him. I dressed that way for me. It was part of my costume. Sure he was drunk, but that doesn’t make it OK. He didn’t have the right to make me feel like a thing. I ended up spending all my time seated, or with my back against the wall because I didn’t want to be just *ass*.
This kind of thing happens all the time. I hear girls in our group bitch about it. Some guy says he admires us all for our minds and then after that disclaimer goes on about what great a great –insert body part here- so and so has. Well it’s fucking time to say something to the rest of you. Stop it! Cut that shit out.
Yes, you can compliment a woman. Tell her she’s pretty or she’s hot. But for my part, the moment I start hearing that I or anyone else in the room is “fuckable”, or even jokingly, “I’d like of piece of that” it makes me angry. I feel objectified. Suddenly I’m not a person. I’m not your friend. I’m a sexual toy. I’m a thing to be used. Think about that.
I’ll even admit that I’m guilty of using the same kind of language in regards to my friends. I resisted for a really long time, but eventually slid into it, partially because I don’t like to be perceived as a stick-in-the-mud and I want everyone to like me. But also, it’s what happens when you spend time with people.
You pick up their language and behaviors. Think about it. Where did you pick up that habit of referring to things as “gay”? I bet those guys told you it was all in fun and they don’t mean anything by it. You know they don’t mean anything by it ‘cause you certainly don’t. But does that make it OK?
So when we are outraged at the insensitivity of men and the fact that they don’t seem to understand what it is like to live in vigilance, perhaps we need to look to our own and make sure that we all see where those behaviors start. I’m not saying to bite someone’s head off every time there’s a joke or a comment about someone’s body part, but we should at least think about telling our friends when it’s not OK.
Many of the women on my flist have been posting in response to this. The talk about how they feel, about what it’s like to feel threatened when there’s a man behind you in a hallway or following you into the bathroom at a club.
twistedcat makes some great points here: http://twistedcat.livejournal.com/1080747.html.I want to speak to my experience, not with strangers, but with friends. My friends work faire. They are sexual beings (and proud to be so). We are very cuddly. At parties the women dress in revealing and sexy costumes. And there is a prevailing air that that freedom doesn’t come with a price, but it does.
I at one point had myself trained to swing around ready to clobber someone when my butt was touched. Now, if I’m in a familiar environment I peak over my shoulder to see who it is. If it’s not someone to whom I’d allow the liberty I scowl and tell them to back off. But the fact that they took that liberty pisses me off. Am I in such a permissive group that people can touch me without asking? I mean really.
Recently I was hanging out with a friend, watching movies. We were snuggly. We’ve kissed at the occasional party, but really we aren’t sexual. At some point in the evening, as a joke (if I recall correctly) he put his hand on my breast. No! Not allowed! And I told him that. But what the fuck made him think it was OK?
At one party this year I was wearing a thong under a translucent skirt, much more revealing that I normally wear. What happened? Everyone told me I had a nice ass. I was embarrassed both by the compliment itself and the fact that I liked being complimented even while the language made me uncomfortable. I had one friend though that couldn’t keep his eyes off me and couldn’t stop commenting about what a great ass I had. It made me angry. I didn’t dress that way for him. I dressed that way for me. It was part of my costume. Sure he was drunk, but that doesn’t make it OK. He didn’t have the right to make me feel like a thing. I ended up spending all my time seated, or with my back against the wall because I didn’t want to be just *ass*.
This kind of thing happens all the time. I hear girls in our group bitch about it. Some guy says he admires us all for our minds and then after that disclaimer goes on about what great a great –insert body part here- so and so has. Well it’s fucking time to say something to the rest of you. Stop it! Cut that shit out.
Yes, you can compliment a woman. Tell her she’s pretty or she’s hot. But for my part, the moment I start hearing that I or anyone else in the room is “fuckable”, or even jokingly, “I’d like of piece of that” it makes me angry. I feel objectified. Suddenly I’m not a person. I’m not your friend. I’m a sexual toy. I’m a thing to be used. Think about that.
I’ll even admit that I’m guilty of using the same kind of language in regards to my friends. I resisted for a really long time, but eventually slid into it, partially because I don’t like to be perceived as a stick-in-the-mud and I want everyone to like me. But also, it’s what happens when you spend time with people.
You pick up their language and behaviors. Think about it. Where did you pick up that habit of referring to things as “gay”? I bet those guys told you it was all in fun and they don’t mean anything by it. You know they don’t mean anything by it ‘cause you certainly don’t. But does that make it OK?
So when we are outraged at the insensitivity of men and the fact that they don’t seem to understand what it is like to live in vigilance, perhaps we need to look to our own and make sure that we all see where those behaviors start. I’m not saying to bite someone’s head off every time there’s a joke or a comment about someone’s body part, but we should at least think about telling our friends when it’s not OK.
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