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I Wish I Could Have Slapped All Those Molesters Who Dared To Touch Me

( words)
*For representational purpose only.
Why does every girl have to face this situation in her life at least once? Why can’t they be treated as normal human beings and not always be a “thing” for one’s pleasure? What’s wrong in this sentence? And why is it too much to ask for from a man? Also, why do I need a man, to protect me from another man that’s molesting me? Clearly, self-defense needs to be taught to us girls from a very young age, instead of expecting her to sit at home to stay safe from the outside world. Also, why can’t boys be taught, from a young age that they have to respect women’s bodies; that they aren’t allowed to harm us? Yes, I’m writing this because I’ve been molested in my life; multiple times, by a stranger, a shop-keeper, and my mother’s brother. I was so stupid that I didn’t stand up for myself because we have been taught that only a Man can take care of it and only a man can save you, else you just have to run.

I’m going to share every incident with you now; for multiple reasons. Firstly, because I need to get it out of my system and secondly because I need to share these incidents to teach women and men actually, that sometimes the threat is right around us, living with us and we need to be aware of our children and their behaviour.

I was 21 years old, on my way home, riding my bike. I was completely wrapped up, especially since it was sunny; I was wearing full-hand shrugs and a scarf. I kept getting calls from my mom so stopped on the side to tell her that I would reach in a few minutes. Just before I could start riding again, he came close on his bike and asked me for directions to a nearby location. I helped him out and just when I was preparing to leave, he blocked my bike with his and said that he wanted more. I was confused. In that time, he looked left, right, made sure the coast was clear and then reached out and grabbed my breasts and said, “This is nice.” I was shocked and it took me a second before I could start my bike and drive away.

I was shivering and scared. I didn’t even look behind until I reached a busy road, only then I stopped to look behind and that’s when I realized that I was angry at myself for being scared. Why didn’t I say anything? Why didn’t I slap him?

The second incident was when I was 17 years old. I had glasses for two years now and wanted to try on lenses. So I went with my father to the only shop in our area and I bought lenses from a shopkeeper who was in his mid 20’s. He asked me to come back four days later so he could show me how to wear it. I went, alone the next time, and he asked me to sit on a chair and asked me to hold my hair behind with one hand and keep my eye wide open with the other hand.

He said he was going to put the lens in with one hand and suddenly, his other hand was on my breast. At first, I thought it was a mistake, but then the next day, the same thing happened again. Only this time, he began pressing my breast with his elbow too.

Again, like a fool, I thought it was a mistake. The next day, he tried using his entire hand to feel my breast. I gave him an angry look and he apologized and stopped.

The last day, I took my dad along and for the last time, he showed me how to wear the lens and I did it, with my own hands and left, chapter closed. I still see him today, he’s in his mid-30’s and I’m angry at myself for behaving like a fool and didn’t kick him. The third and final incident was when I visited my grandparents when I was 14 years old. In fact, it was because of this one incident that I stopped visiting them completely.

My mother’s brother (cousin) was a funny and simple looking guy. We loved having him around us. My cousins and I used to have a great time with him, until one day, we realized what was happening. He got into this habit of touching us, in the wrong places, all the time.

We were humiliated, uncomfortable but just didn’t know how to address this. Then came the time when he was going to visit us. I was happy, but also very worried. One evening, after dinner, I went for a walk outside. We had a long balcony and it was nice to take a stroll there.

Suddenly, he came and put his hand on my shoulder. I was disgusted, as his hand went down further and tried to reach my breasts. And that’s when I said, “I’m going inside, I’m done walking,” and left. He smiled and said, “Okay.” Nothing else.

The next day, he took me out shopping, it was late by the time we got back when we were on my scooter, he suddenly just grabbed my breasts from behind. He asked me if I was okay and I replied, “Abso-f******-lutely!, remove your hand, right now.”

His response, he laughed. He told me that I’ve grown and that’s all we both should think about. I stopped talking to him immediately. I hate that I haven’t told my mom a word about this, not even now.

Thing is, my mother doesn’t have a real brother, and so, she cherishes her cousin a lot. After this happened, I found out that he had tried to do this to all the cousins and I realized that enough is enough, and told my mom. Heart-broken, she didn’t have anything to say to it. But now, I’ve stopped visiting them, completely.

I can’t forget everything that I’ve gone through. It was humiliating, scary and just about every adjective that one can use to describe how pathetic another human being can make you feel.

I sometimes ask myself, what satisfaction did they get out of doing this? What more could I have done? When will this memory fade? I don’t have the answers for any of it. There’s so much anger that sometimes, I really wish I could have slapped each and every one of them.

 

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