Many female sex bloggers are writing about their experiences with sexual harassment this week. The men they are encountering assume that just because they review sex toys, write erotica and participate in a sex positive community that they are promiscuous. They seem to think that they are owed nude photos, cyber sex, real sexual favors or for a woman to preform sex acts on video simple because they graced them with some attention or ‘complimented’ them. I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting these types of perverts yet, but I imagine the more popular I become as a sex blogger that they’ll start coming out of the woodwork eventually. What I do have to talk about is the real life and online experiences I have had just for being a woman.

Warning: The rest of this post may be triggering for some women. If you are sensitive to frank discussions about molestation or harassment you should stop reading now.

Experience #1: “You developed breasts and hips at 11/12 years old so you’re obviously lusting to have the cock of a thirty year old man shoved between your thighs”

My mother met and married my step-father around the time I turned twelve. I’m very close to my step-dad and consider him my father, so no, this story isn’t about him. When he married my mom we all moved to his house in a small town. A lot of my relatives live in this town and they all live on the property my grandparents owned and split up amongst their children. Because of the land being owned by family, my brother and I were permitted to wander around and do as we pleased. There is a pond about a mile behind my parents house that we frequently spent our summers splashing around in. Usually one of my uncles was there fishing with us and grilling the fish he caught so we’d have something to eat while we played. One day my uncle wasn’t around, and instead my thirty-something year old cousin came out to swim with us. It wasn’t long after he climbed into the water that he found his way behind me and slipped his arms around my waist. He had pulled his erect penis out of his swimsuit and was rubbing it between my thighs. At this age I had no idea what a penis looked or felt like, but I knew something was wrong. I got away from his as quickly as I could and climbed out of the water. I hollered for my brother and told him we needed to go.

My cousin said “You didn’t like that?” with the most disgusting grin on his face. I said “No. I didn’t.” and then I walked straight home with my brother and told my mom what I thought had happened. I remember telling her it felt like he put a stick between my legs but it didn’t feel like a tree stick. Needless to say, she was livid. She demanded that my dad go confront this asshole, and he did, and my cousin denied the whole thing. My parents believed me, but there wasn’t a whole lot we could do about it. I was too young to even know what was going on, but because I had developed hips and breasts already he apparently thought that I would be thrilled to have his penis touching me. Just because I was starting to look like a woman.

Experience #2: “The girls my age don’t want anything to do with me, and you’re the most developed so you should let me touch your boob.”

I remember this event a bit more clearly than the previous. I was fourteen. I had just tried out for the flag team at the high school I would be attending the following year. I was so excited because we were allowed to take flags home to practice with until he final try out. There were a few girls in my church youth group who were seniors on their flag teams and they had promised to help me and my friend practice after our bible study. During the class, one of the senior boys had taken my flag and hidden it in one of the classrooms. Afterward he told me he had hidden it and that I had to come with him to get it back. I had a crush on him so I followed him. He took me into one of the empty rooms with the lights off and sat me on his lap. He started telling me that he liked me and asking me to kiss him or let him touch my boob. I was scared and I was giggling to try to lighten the mood, but still batting his hands away and telling him no. I had never really kissed a boy before. I was scared and nervous. He told me that if I would just kiss him or let him touch my boob that he would give me my flag back. I could feel his heart racing and hear his voice shaking. He finally gave up and decided to let me have my flag back, but only if I promised not to tell anyone. I promised not to tell, and I fully intended not to, but he drove past me as he was leaving church and told me again to not tell anyone. My friend was asking me what he was talking about and I waited until she and I were alone to tell her what happened. We probably should have gone to the adults, but I was scared.

Experience #3: “You don’t really mean no, I’m your friend.”

There was a guy who was my age that I was very close to in middle and high school. He liked me, a lot, and he was always hoping I would date him. I knew he liked me, but I wasn’t ever really interested in him like that. I confided in him about guys I dated and when they would hurt me he was there to talk to. There were a few times that he convinced me that we should be boyfriend/girlfriend because he was such a good friend and the other guys were assholes. I would agree and we’d date for a week before I came to my senses and broke up with him. We were still friends though, and I would always go to his house after church on Sundays. His parents would make a big dinner and we’d spend the afternoon playing video games, walking and talking. One Sunday his parents were out of town for some reason and we still went to his house to hang out. I can’t remember if we were dating at this time or not, but this guy knew I had done things with boys before because I told him everything. He wrestled me down to his living room floor and crawled on top of me and held me down as he tried to kiss me. I tried telling him no, and he kept saying ‘come on, I’m your friend.’ and ‘you should just kiss me.’

I felt weird around him for a while, but I still stayed friends with him. I don’t know why he thought that was okay or why I didn’t tell anyone or stop talking to him. He, like the other guy from church, was one of the good kids. No one would have believed me if I told them. Especially since they knew my mom had me when she was eighteen and had been married four times. My mom liked sex, so she probably passed some of that type of behavior down to me, so I was probably asking for it, right?

Experience #4: “With a body like that, you must want to be gawked at and have people talk about it all the time.You need stalkers.”

I had a big ass in high school. My body was curvy and sexy, and I knew it. There were times I enjoyed the cat calls and comments, but there were times when it crossed the line. It didn’t piss me off when I would walk past a guy and hear him say “DAYUM!” or “Wow!”, but sometimes the things they said were uncalled for. Sometimes the things they did were uncalled for. Guys would see photos of me in my friends memory books and ask about me. Once they had my name they would inevitably look up my number in the phone book. My family was one of few with my maiden name so it wasn’t hard to figure out which number to call. They would call and ask to talk to me, and when I got on the phone they would start in with the questions about my measurements, if I liked sex, what kinds of sex I liked and if I was dating anyone. If not, they wanted to know if I would fuck them. Some of they guys were ballsy enough to come up to me at school and ask, and some were scary enough to find my house and drive by. I actually have had two guys call and talk to me on the phone as they were driving past my house and then brag about how they saw me standing outside on the phone with them. They assumed that they would be able to pick me up and take me somewhere for sex.

Experience #5: “I took you to dinner so you owe me.”

I met a guy online when I moved to start college. He asked to take me out. I agreed and we went to eat. On the way home he drove me all over the place. I didn’t really know the city well so I was a little nervous. I told him I had a curfew and he headed to where I had parked to drop me off at my car. When I was getting ready to get out of his truck he kissed me and tried to grab my boob. I pushed him off and left. He asked me to go on another date with him, and I stupidly agreed. This time, instead of driving all over town after our date he took me on a bunch of back roads and eventually we wound up parked in the middle of a cornfield. He started in again on trying to grope me and trying to get me out of my dress. When I told him no he said ‘but I love you.’ and I gave him this look that said ‘you have got to be kidding, right?’. He climbed out of his truck and went to his tailgate. I got out to ask him what the fuck he was doing because I was ready to go home when he said “I was just wishing on this shooting star that I hadn’t messed things up for us.”

Experience #6: “You’re a girl and you own a computer so that must mean you own a webcam/want to cyber”

Yahoo Messenger chat rooms and World of Warcraft seem to be a breeding ground for horny, lonely guys. If there was even the slightest hint that I was a female then I would start getting private messages asking me how old I was, where I was from and those would progress into attempts to get me to send nude pictures, get on my webcam or have cyber sex with them. There was no politely declining these requests because internet anonymity gave these guys balls the size of watermelons and they were persistent. I had to block them or endure their constant requests. If I continued to decline they would start to make comments about how I must be ugly and fat if I didn’t want them to see me on camera.

I’m absolutely sick and tired of this male sense of entitlement. Just because I have breasts and a vulva does not mean that I am required to show them to you. It does not mean that I am a bitch or a prude if I refuse to comply with your requests. It does not mean that I think I’m ugly if I refuse to send you pictures and I don’t need your opinion to boost my confidence in the way I look naked.