What It's Like To Grow Up in A Man's World | The Odyssey Online
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Politics

What It's Like To Grow Up in A Man's World

Just a small town girl, living in a patriarchal world.

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What It's Like To Grow Up in A Man's World
Rosiesbandana

When I was a little girl, my mom told me I could be anything I wanted to be if I set my mind to it. She raised me to believe I could do anything that my brother and “the boys” could do. She raised me to be a strong woman. Unfortunately, even the strongest little girls are at a disadvantage in this patriarchal society.

One of the earliest feminist memories I have is the one of my mother telling me not to change in front of the window, and to always close the shades because there may be men watching from outside. We lived in a very nice neighborhood in a very nice suburb, but my mom still worried about the men. I was just a child, and I was already a target. I was just a child, and I was already taught that my body was a sexual thing. I was just a child, and I was already taught to hide my body for protection.

When I was about 7 years old, I went to the movies with my mom. It was part of a reading club, where if the kids read a certain number of books, they could see a movie for free. It was kids' day at the movie theatre, and I got a big blue slushy. We went to the bathroom before the show, and I set my drink down on the counter. That's the first time I was told I had to watch my drink, because someone might put something in it. I was 7 years old when I learned about roofies. That is rape culture.

A couple years later, I started selling girl scout cookies. I was allowed to go to certain neighbors by myself to sell them, but my mom insisted I only go to those houses. When we went to other houses, she would come with me. I remember her warnings of some of the men nearby. Some were alcoholics or had given my parents a reason to be careful, but others were just strangers. As a little girl, you were taught to be suspicious of just about all men.

In junior high, I had more freedom. I could walk downtown with my friends to the coffee shop, and we went all the time. But there were several memorable instances in which we had to stop at a gas station or the library on the way because there was a man in a car following us. We would change our route to lose them. At the time we would giggle at the thrill while running to safety. Looking back, it makes me sick to my stomach. We were 11 year old girls in a nice town being followed by sexual predators.

As I began to date, my dad insisted that older boys were only interested in “one thing”. I talked to several older boys, trying to prove that my dad was wrong. I had more to offer them, and they would like me for who I was. Over and over, boys proved my dad right. One boy was so mad when I refused to hook up with him that he just spread a rumor that he took my virginity. My reputation was hurt, his was improved.

Then came the dress code. We were still kids, but we were sexualized like we were adults. My shoulders became sexual. My legs became sexual. Everything was suddenly “too tight” or “too revealing”. I couldn't even wear yoga pants to school without them being sexualized. Unfortunately, it was rarely the students who were the problem. It was the teachers who complained. Teachers, who we were supposed to respect as our role models, were sexualizing us and punishing us for their own perspectives of us.

Now, as an adult, it's all over the news. 1 in 5 women are raped in college. Rapists aren't brought to justice. There is always a new scam to prey on women. “Don't stop if you see a baby on the side of the road; it's a trap.” “Lock your car doors if you get out, even for a second.” “This is how you signal for help from inside a trunk if you are kidnapped.” These are the things we've been told since we were just kids. We learned at a young age that we were a target. We weren't constantly in danger, but we had to constantly be on guard. I was 12 years old when I was told if you got raped you should yell “Fire” because people are more likely to help someone in a fire than someone being raped.

Talk to a woman in your life. Talk to a daughter, a friend, a mother, a sister–it doesn't matter. Ask them about their experiences with sexism, assault, or rape. I guarantee you every girl has a story that would bring chills to your spine.

Not all men have assaulted women, and I don't mean to imply that by any means. But all women have been harassed, assaulted, preyed on. All women have been sexualized. All women have suffered. All little girls had to grow up too fast. All little girls had to learn self defense techniques from a young age. All little girls grew up with fear in the back of their minds. And now all human beings need to work together to change this. Teach your little girls to be strong. Teach your little boys to respect girls, even when they are weak.

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