*This post may be very confronting to some people, it is confronting for ME to write and read it; please be aware of that. Also I know that some of you have your daughters reading, perhaps read it first yourself.*
occasionally I have been accused of being a ‘feminazi.’ People look at me weird sometimes when I say something negative about men, I ALWAYS take the side of the woman in ANY case and I even sometimes say snide things to Glen when I’m feeling hurt, not by him but by the general population of men.
I think men are pigs. I think they are far more in touch with their natural primitive instincts when they want to be, I think THEY think they are entitled to be ‘looked after’ by women and I think they think they can have anything they want. And that they can take it in any way they want. I think they are possessive creatures who fear rejection especially by women. I honestly think they are the weaker sex and the ones who can’t handle that fact, lash out in many ways. Mostly toward women.
I am very passionate about my views. It won’t take much for my stomach to turn over certain things a man may say or do and I get so fiery I probably could spit venom.
I have 4 daughters I want to protect from the world, and one son I’d like to be an individual outside my opinions of men in general.
- At a young age, 5 or 6 I was molested. I did tell my mother about 4 years ago. She laughed it off saying it was ‘experimenting’ as the male responsible was in his early teens. She’s not the one who has flash backs of him touching her and trying to remove her underwear. Feeling so afraid and not know why or what. I was brave back then. I dug my nails into his hands so hard he stopped. I try not to think of what would have been capable if he’d succeeded.
- At 14 I was date raped. I was a drinker back then as I was out of home and doing whatever I wanted. Easy target. A man who was a regular invite to these parties as he’d buy alcohol was there. He gave me 2 drinks. I began to go in and out of consciousness. I remember my ‘friends’ laughing at me thinking I was faking drunkness. I could handle more than 2 drinks. I was confused. I was sitting one minute, closed my eyes. When I opened them I was in the kitchen staring down at vomit. Most likely mine. Closed eyes. Opened eyes I was out on the verandah hanging over the rail with him asking if I was ok. He said he’d take me to go lay down. Eyes closed. Eyes open. Light glaring in my eyes my dress removed, standing there in the middle of the room. ‘no’ I said. eyes closed. I won’t say more. I don’t need to. I remember it clear as day the things he said when I came to. The things he was doing when I opened my eyes. It was like I’d blink, yet long moments would have passed with each fall of my eyelids. I had no control over my arms or legs, I could only mumble. This man was married with 3 kids all in their 20’s, he was in his late 50’s, owned his own home and business. The old saying ‘don’t trust anyone?’ Its damn true. I finally went to my school counsellor and told him, which escalated quickly, I had police officers from Coffs Harbour come to my school and talk to me, I was prepared to stand up and put this man away as it was only the weekend before, he’d done the same thing to my friend. l never wanted another girl to go through that. I wish I had of said something looking back when she was the one sick and ‘drunk’ and stumbling off into the room with him. I remember thinking ‘what the hell is she doing?’ I knew she’d only had a couple of drinks, I let her be. I try not to think about that. It was about a month later when he turned up. I was living in a caravan park on my own with another girl my age. He turned up and walked in. I was petrified. He told me I was going to ruin his life. His family, his business. He told me I was a liar and why I would do this to him. I freaked out. Paranoid, I didn’t know he knew where I lived. I didn’t ever want to see him. I called the police and told them I wouldn’t be saying a word. They checked in with me every 12 months for a few years to make sure as it wasn’t too late. I said ‘I was sure.’ I feel so much worse for not saying anything than for what happened. I was alone and scared, I couldn’t protect myself as much as my young arrogant mind thought I could. I saw him, 2 years ago. He’s pushing trolleys in Woolworth’s. He has lost his family and lost his business. I walked past him with my head held high. He didn’t even know who I was. His face is going to be with ME forever.
- My mother’s violent boyfriend. After my mum and dad split up, mum with through a whole team of men. For some reason she attached herself to the worst possible kind. He practically moved in the night they met. At first I thought he was great, treated her like a princess and I even said so. It wasn’t until she found out she was pregnant with Riley -I was nearly 4 months pregnant with Bella- that he began to show his true colours. He was violent. I remember mum turning up at my place with bruises around her throat, she could barely speak he’d squeezed her so tight. One day in particular she turned up to a friend’s place where I was staying the night. Her nose broken, black eyes beginning to appear, bruises everywhere. She was 7 months pregnant. He’d even kicked her in the lower back once she’d fallen to the floor. She went to the hospital to have it documented. She came back half hour later saying she didn’t want to wait so long she ‘wasn’t going to worry about it.’ Later when we returned to her house, I saw blood splattered on the walls and even on the roof, I saw the knife he held at her throat. She wasn’t going to worry about that?! Looking back it frustrates me how she kept going back for more. I moved in with mum for a while after I had Bella and she’d had Riley, I feel so very close to my little brother. I felt like I had 2 babies not just one, what I did for Bella I would do for Riley. He’s so special to me. I remember one night I had to huddle up with Bella and Riley and sing and play loudly to distract them from mum and her bf who were physically fighting in the kitchen. It was a tearing moment. Firstly I wondered what I was doing having my own daughter here. Secondly I wondered what would happen to Riley if I wasn’t and thirdly should I help my mum? Instead I made those babies giggle and smile. ‘Shes a big girl’ I kept telling myself. On another occasion he put my own father in hospital. Where my mum lived was where we’d lived as a family on a property, the adjoining property was land my grandmother owned and my dad had cattle on it. Mum and I had Bella and Riley in their prams out in the afternoon breeze while we fed the chooks, the kids loved to watch them. We saw dads car drive up the paddock which was half a football field away, mum’s bf happened to be on his horse at the time. We watched as the car and the horse met at the fence…’What the hell?’ mum said. Later we found out that bf had called my dad from his mobile and said he wanted to talk to him. Next thing we know, bf jumped the fence head butt my dad which instantly dropped him to the ground, he was sitting on his chest slamming his fists into his face. I screamed grabbed my phone and ran as fast as I could to help my dad, I’d dialed the police and said…I can’t remember what I said…I do know that by the time I’d reached them the phone became a weapon and I threw it at bf’s head. I picked up a huge rock and told him if he didn’t get off my dad I’d kill him. I would have. I kept screaming ‘that’s my dad!’ Finally mum and I pulled him off, I still held my rock, he jumped the fence and stood there covered in blood spatters. My dad was barely with it. His eyes, his face…messed up, blood head to toe. I told him to get in his car and leave. He did, so slowly. I don’t know how, I thought he was out of it. Mum and I then panicked. He was in his ‘mood’ and we were there alone with our babies, we looked at each other and bolted for our babies, while bf stalked us in the adjoining paddock. We got them and ran to the neighbours driveway and toward the road to wait for police. suddenly we heard him running up behind us. He tried to tackle mum and take Riley, he was about 9 months. ‘If you drop him you will kill him!’ I screamed at him. I saw police coming up over the hill. He let us go and ran back to the house. Police took him to jail for 6 hours. Enough time to get dad into an ambulance and to the hospital to fix his broken cheek bone and nose. Enough time for mum and I to grab what we needed from the house and flee. That was my dads birthday. I learnt a lot about men the night he came after me. I was tired of him treating my mum the way he did, I was so mad and empowered by the thought that I could have smashed that rock into his head that night. I could be an animal just like you I thought. I can’t remember the reasons why he did it, but he got mad at me. He smashed the beer bottle he had in his hand over the back of a chair and held it to my face. He was so close to me his spit was spraying all over my face. I didn’t move. I was past fear with this idiot. I was mad. I screamed back in his face. Told him to hit me if it made him feel tough. Knock me out if he wanted to shut me up. He stopped stood back used his finger to swipe at my face. He walked away. This is the man my mother gave my sister and brother to.
- Another guy decided to bash my dad the year previous to this, on his birthday strangely enough, it was the almost 20 something year old son of my dad’s girlfriend. He was making inappropriate comments about my little sister who was 13 at the time. Dad said something and next thing we know he’s jumped onto dad trying to punch him, my dad didn’t retaliate, he just laid on him to try to stop him and restrain him. He, the son was ripping at my dads eyes, it was horrific to see. His mother then ran out with a baseball bat?! I screamed at her, and told her not to hit him, he wasn’t hurting him. Finally it ended and we got them apart. I had to drive home that night as dad couldn’t see, blood pouring down his face. I sobbed all the way home and couldn’t sleep. It was the last time I ever felt close to my dad as he ended up cuddling up with me and stroking my forehead like he had when I was small, until I fell asleep. I was 6 months pregnant with Bella.
- Father of my children. I think he was the worst. Not only did he interfere with me, but my children. And that’s plain wrong in my eyes. I don’t even want to go there right now, refer to Violet’s story for a little insight.
- My own dad. He has nothing to do with me now, never really has. I am terrible at blaming my mum for everything and how we grew up but he was our parent too and sometimes I let him off far too lightly. I guess I’ve never seen the role a ‘real’ dad has in the upbringing of children so it is easier to say it was all mum. It wasn’t just mum, it was dad just as much. And still, I love them both.
- There’s more but that’s enough from me, I’m done.
I just want to say that writing this post has been a bit draining. I’ve always known I’d get it all out, didn’t know when or why. But for some reason now felt right and I went with it.
“What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger”
Everyone lives their own hell and I don’t ever think I have it bad, I know there are women and girls who are going through by far much worse every day of their lives. I wish I could hug them. I do have to make myself NOT think about some of these things sometimes.
It is sad that the worst memories last forever, clear as day and yet the happiest slip away so easily. Like I always say, the bad makes the good radiate, makes it shine and glow and there is this overwhelming appreciation for all that really IS good in our world.
Without bad, there is no good.
I think having so many daughters, I hope and pray that they will never go through some of the things I have. I hope that some day they can read this and learn from my experience. I’m protective and sometimes have to force myself to let them have a little slack. Bella doesn’t have sleep overs unless I know the family myself closely, she did have a friend stay over here last night however. I don’t like that she walks the 5 minutes to school alone, but I let her. I try not to let my own experiences hinder her childhood. I don’t like having ‘just anyone’ watch my kids, it MUST be family and VERY close family. It’s sad to say but there are bad people out there. If the bad people looked ‘bad’ they’d never have the opportunity to BE bad. I couldn’t live with myself if anything ever happened and I was the one to put them into that vulnerable position.
I think this may have been a part of why I was worried to have a son. I don’t like men. I don’t trust them. I do not mean the individuals outside of being ‘men’ there should be a new name for the men who are outside of this general pool of ‘bad’ men. Perhaps gentlemen. My son will be a gentleman just like his father, grandfather and great-grandfather before him. Not a brute of a man who thinks he can do and say and take what he wants from anyone. I’ve been through and stood by with other women, watched, heard and seen some terrible examples of men’s behaviour. I have learnt so much about their patterns and arrogant ways. They do literally remind me of animals. I can’t bring myself to watch certain movies. Anything that depicts sexual assault, makes me want to vomit. Any man physically abusing a woman? I stand and leave. I physically, mentally and emotionally cannot handle it.
Sometimes people don’t realise that things like these are invisible scars, they are there but hidden on the inside. It doesn’t hinder my life, it has made me stronger, wary , it has helped me hone in on my people ‘radar’ I’m a very good judge of character and it is part of the reason I feel I can do anything. Life is too short, life throws us some very big tests to see, and to prove to us who we are. Life is for living, each day forward is another day further away from the bad. It can stay in the past, never forgotten but a big part of me that taught me many lessons.
Let’s protect our kids, especially our girls. 1 in 3 girls report rape, molestation or any other kind of sexual abuse. 1 in 3 REPORTS…..?! Is it just something girls must deal with? We’re not objects to be taken, abused and treated like nothing.
We’re not processions, or pieces of meat.
We are WOMEN! We are brave, we are stong and NEVER EVER let anyone make you feel like your not the goddess of the world!
If what I’ve written here today makes me a ‘feminazi’ so be it.