keesley-cheese

srsly tho this is absolutely a thing that dudes do all the f***ing time

like where if he knows a girl doesn’t necessarily want to give him a hug, he will trap her in this position in front of witnesses where she has 2 options- both of which are undesirable for her, while simultaneously desirable for him

if she doesn’t want to hug him, whatever she does, it will suck for her.

she can 1. say nah and be the fucking asshole in front of other ppl or 2. forsake her corporeal boundaries and allow unwanted intimate contact

So I was on the transit bus alone one time. This was my first time riding, and so already I was PETRIFIED. I sit down, pull out my ipod, and begin to play some games. This guy sits down next to me, and begins trying to have a conversation. I don’t really respond, I don’t even look at him, just give half-hearted “mhm”s and “oh”s, as I don’t want to be rude if he was just striking up a friendly conversation. He then asks me on a date.

Now, as I stated before, I already was absolutely petrified. My heart stopped and I didn’t know how to answer. So I just didn’t. He didn’t let up and I could feel his eyes on me. I quietly stammer out a “no thanks” and my stop HAPPENS to be coming up, so I pull the string thing to let the driver know I want to stop there, and once we stop and the doors open I get up and he asks me, “Well, can I at least have a hug before you go if you won’t go on a date with me?” 

This makes me break. There are now people staring, as we are the only people standing up and not getting off… So I just start crying. Hell, I am bawling almost instantly. He looks so fucking freaked out and people are now getting up to come over and comfort me/question him. I don’t stop crying, and he keeps trying to comfort me by touching me, and people are yelling at him for that. 

AND THEN. AND. FUCKING. THEN. THE GOD DAMN BUS DRIVER. A VERY EASILY 6 FOOT BURLY MAN. COMES OVER TO US. PULLS THE GUY AWAY. AND KNEELS DOWN. HE THEN ASKS, IN THE MOST CALM VOICE, “Did you request the stop?” I very slowly and shakily nod, as I am still crying my eyes out. He then asks, “Do you want to get off?” I give a quiet “mhm” and nod once again, and he offers me his hand. I take it, he stands up, and he escorts me off the bus. He asks me questions such as where I was going next, if I was going to meet someone shortly, if I was going to transfer buses from there. He was very polite and waited for me to answer the entire time, and my friend (who I was going to be meeting there) showed up. He asked me if this was someone I knew, I said yes, and he said alright, have a good day. He then told me- and this is something stuck in my mind forever, so it is word for word-

“If some guy EVER starts harassing you like that again, do exactly what you did there. Cry. Cry and scream and have a temper tantrum. Not only will it throw him off, but it will get others to notice. They might not interfere, they might, but you will have gotten their attention and if you happen to go missing the next day the search for you will be a hell of a lot easier because everyone in that location will have seen you screaming and crying with a guy now very awkward with his actions. They will know. That is what my daughter did, and three days after she went missing she was back in my arms. I pray for you and every other person like you who has this done. You stay safe now, okay?” And after I began blubbering again, I nodded and he left.

It: 1. Gives them a sense of urgency in the situation, as the eye contact is a way to make them feel as though you are personally asking for their help and it is now their obligation to help. 2. Contains words so that if you’re in a public place but people aren’t necessarily watching, then they (as natural evesdroppers) can overhear the attention-grabbing words and then notice the situation. Note, this does NOT mean that they will come for help, but you might be able to look someone in the eye (as previously mentioned) or just get some people’s attention. 3. It shows that you have fight in you. As with rapists, those who are physically aggressive (ie. these huggers) choose women they see as an easy target. The moment you show them you are going/willing to fight them, they are less likely to continue. Sadly, this is not always the case, but every little bit helps.

So I used to be hot when I was young. I mean, model hot, because I actually used to model. Even now, I’ve let myself go on purpose because I was tired of the harassment. But I fit a UK size 6 with a pert ass from volleyball and a cup c breast. As you can imagine, I couldn’t wear anything or go ANYWHERE without being harassed. I sometimes even happened in church.

Anyway, I’m not a shrinking lily, and when I get angry enough I can do some crazy shit. So here are some of my coping mechanisms:

1) find a matronly looking lady, run up to her with ‘aunt may! I haven’t seen you in ages! ’ then whisper ‘please help he’s harassing me!’. 99.9 times out of 100, she will be scandalised and help you anyway even if she’s annoyed or in a hurry. If no older lady is available, find a younger one, or a nun, or a trans lady. We of the sisterhood know what it is to be harnessed, and I guarantee if you look frightened enough, they will help.

2) If you are out alone at night, and someone is following you, spot a house or apartment where the lights are on and knock, asking ‘mum’ or ‘dad’ or ‘john’ to let you in. Even if the people inside are annoyed, odds are they won’t turn you away, and you can phone someone to pick you up, or phone the police from a safe space

3) Make noise. Cry and scream loudly, call them out ‘i don’t know you and you are terrifying me! Please get away from me!’ if there are people around. Even if they don’t help directly for fear of their own safety, someone around you is calling security or 911.

4) speak a foreign language. If you know it, speak the language to them fast and incessantly, like you have just met someone you knew and you’re just giving the best performance rant of why your OTP is the best OTP. Make yourself ANNOYING. Think about what would be awkward and annoying to you and make it what you do to them. If you make them think YOU are something to get away from they will leave you in peace.

Now beware, the following ones are the CRAZY ones and may not always work. But they are a valid last resort:

5) stare at them. Stare at them like you’re hungry and they are a hapless deer you’re going to tear to pieces. Like yours the girl from the ring emerging from the TV to kill them. Don’t smile, don’t change your expression. DON’T BLINK. Hold their state like you’re Wednesday Adams about to do unspeakable things to a spider, and they are the spider. Even the most courageous of stalkers balk at this, but if they don’t…

6) Use the Hannibal Lector. After staring at them for and extended period of time (imagine all the things that have made you scared, imagine you could get revenge on them for putting you here, that’s the thought you need to have), if they are getting closer to you, whisper something like ‘i would fry your liver in garlic’. Even the hardiest ones will be taken aback, but keep it up while making sure you don’t let the others hear you. Things like, occult star readings requiring blood, wondering whether he is the offering the spirits sent. If you’re on this site you’ve read some weird shit at least once. Tell him that. Tell him you would like him to meet your lord, Vlad the Impaler, who requires much blood to be appeased. Be a stereotypical ‘crazy bitch’ like they see in the movies. Believe it or not, this has worked for me twice.

Above all, banish the notion that you have to be polite.

They were impolite by approaching you. If you can, ignore them. If you are not alone, pointedly put headphones in your ear, and don’t make eye contact, wait for them to realise that ‘youre a bitch anyway’ and move away. If you are alone, evade and find places and ways to fix that as soon as POSSIBLE.

Never underestimate the power of a good “EXCUSE me????”

Legit. It makes people STOP IN THEIR TRACKS. This is the one I whip out when people start swearing at me over the headset and always, without fail, they stop what they’re saying, shocked.

Go for offended, and go for loud. Not yelling loud, but giving-your-best-presentation loud. “EXCUSE me??? You approached me two minutes ago, I don’t even know your name, and you want WHAT? Creep.”

For one, the presentation will shock them. For another, that indignant tone? EVERYONE AROUND YOU IS GOING TO WANT TO LISTEN TO THIS JUICY SHIT.

Now the second key here is, DON’T LET HIM JADE (justify, argue, defend, explain). He smiles and goes “I just wanted–” FUCKING INTERRUPT HIM. Firmly. Irritably. “I heard what you wanted, and I’ve already declined once. Maybe you should go back to kindergarten where they teach you no means no.” Run right over the fucker. He’s not respecting your words, you don’t need to respect his.

when i was 5 years old my best friend was a boy named kyle who didn’t know how to knock on doors so he made dinosaur noises outside my window to wake me up in the summer until i demonstrated how to ball his fists and slam them against my doors.  we collected caterpillars in my trailer park and built them houses while we traded pokemon cards.  he wasn’t the only one.  there was ben, and mitch, and noah—but kyle’s the only one who hurt me, because when he tried to kiss me and i asked him why, he told me “because you’re a girl and i’m a boy, shouldn’t we like each other?”

i missed him so much and i wondered why he couldn’t just be my friend like he always was

in the first grade there was rich and joseph and i got sent to detention with them almost every day with a smile on my face.  we built block towers and sang to my teacher’s lion king soundtracks when she’d turn the lights off during lunch time.  one day they got in a fist fight over me at recess, and i wondered why they felt they needed to share my friendship, like it was something they owned.

in the second grade zach and i played yu gi oh under our desks during free time and i got moved for talking to him constantly.  everyone in the class would tease him and i for talking, asking when we were going to date already, asking him if he’d kissed me, and he stopped being my friend.

when i was 11 i met a chubby boy with the name of a colour who wore puffy vests and unwashed t-shirts, with greasy hair and bright blue eyes and a smile that hid hurt behind it.  people didn’t like him because he was silly, but i liked him, because i was also silly.  he became my friend the day he bought me 5 giant roses and asked me to be his girlfriend, and i politely declined but promised him i’d be his best friend because i’d always wanted a best guy friend that stuck around. we burnt our feet on the concrete during the summer and walked home with the sunset silhouetting us.  he talked often about how he loved me, but never blamed me for being me, even though he refused to move on. that boy dyed his hair jet black and sat on the end of my bed playing songs to me on guitar, and all that pent up rage from before didn’t show until the first time he slapped me across the face and called me a dumb cunt.

in the 7th grade there was a boy named ryan who sat next to me on the bus and talked to me about manga.  he’d ask me personal invasive questions but i didn’t mind because it was attention and i liked attention.  i was dating another guitarist with curly brown hair, one who was much more kind-tempered than the other, and ryan mentioned how much of an asshole he was every day.  i wondered, why, why does he think the love of my life is an asshole?  but whenever i asked him, he just told me, “girls only date assholes.  there’s no room for nice guys like me.”

i wondered, if he was so nice, why did he say such mean things?

he never stopped with me, taking me to movies, hanging out with me, you know.  being friendly.  i thought we were friends.  but then, how many times had i thought that before?

how many times had i bonded with a boy, thought they got me, only for them to ask me if i wanted to make out?

how come when i told ryan i was coming out as a lesbian, he stopped being my friend, and said “damnit, the one girl i really want to pound into a mattress, and she’s only interested in chicks!”

there was a boy my junior year who stayed up all night with me until the sun rose, talking about life, past loves, hopes, dreams.  beneath a million twinkling stars spanning forever, he brushed long brown hair out of his eyes and listened to me talk about the history that made me. then he asked me if i’d ever consider dating a guy, and complained about how he’d never get laid.

when i told him no a couple hundred times, he found new girls to listen to.

i would sit on the couch and play zelda with dakota, and he’d talk about all my favourite games with me.  he was the closest thing to support i had, and the letters and poems he wrote me were always so kind and friendly.  but he’d put his arms around me on the couch, and no matter how many times i told him i was uncomfortable, he’d still come over every day and do it.

“don’t you know how it feels to love someone and not have them love you back?  don’t you know what it feels like to be friendzoned?”

when i meet guys who talk about the friendzone, who talk about the girls who don’t give “nice guys” like them i chance, i always want to just say

when i was 10 years old i met a girl whose brown hair fell across her shoulders and whos eyes sparkled when the sunlight hit them, whose voice was like velvet and whose scent was like mountain smoke, who made me dizzier than a fly climbing a sugar hill.  and i’m 18 years old, and i still love her, and she knows, and she doesn’t love me.

but my first thoughts upon hearing her rejection were not “what a bitch,” were not “she just wants a douchebag and not a nice girl like me!” were not “im going to keep pushing her until she dates me,”

they were

“she is the best friend i have ever had, and i am the best she’s ever had, and i would hate to take that away from her.”

so before you play the victim, mr. Nice Guy, before you angrily throw your fedora on the ground and blame the girl you claim to adore so much:

put yourself in the shoes of a girl who thought she made a wonderful friend, only to find out that he just wanted her for sex.  that he just wanted her for a relationship.  a girl who was just an object to win, a prize.  a girl who’s trust you’ve just shattered.

you deserve to eat

you need to eat

food is not the enemy

calories give you the energy to smile

you are worthy

you are loved

i am proud of you for fighting, you can do this!!

5 seconds of insane courage, it’s all you need

your struggles are real, so is your bravery

you are good enough

you are not a mistake

you are one of a kind