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Then a middle-aged guy got out of the SUV parked next to me and walked over to my driver side window. I saw a few older guys getting out of their cars and walking around but I didn't seemed to draw their interest. On the way back I stopped and parked my car. I saw a few guys parked along the road as I nervously passed by. I drove over to the lake to a boat-ramp that I'd heard was a ‘hook up' place for gays. Today would be different, my wife was away for the day and I was off work. I had been thinking about it for months but the time was never right. I was trying to building up the nerve to actually meet someone and suck my first dick. Source: Source: I am now nineteen years old.I am now tired.This past summer during a few days off from work, I found myself home surfing through some cruising sites online. Source: Never mind you were six, never mind you were wearing pink pajamas.That I should be louder.But not too loud, a lady must be polite.That I should always ask for help.But stop overreacting, there’s a difference.That I should stay in at night, because it isn’t safe.You can’t get harassed in broad daylight.That I should always travel with no less than two boys with me.You need to be protected. Source: Source: Huffingtonpost At eighteen, I was told that sexism doesn’t exist in modern society.I was told that harassment couldn’t be as bad as us women make it out to be.That I should watch what I wear. Source: Source: When I was seventeen, I called for help as a drunken man tried to sexually harass me in a crowded street.The people around me seemed to walk by quicker. I was propositioned, called sexy, asked for nudes, and insulted. Curious, I opened it to find numerous messages from men I had never seen before. When I was sixteen, I discovered that Facebook had a section of inbox messages named ‘others’, which contained those mails received from strangers, automatically stored as spam. To him, my passiveness and silence were the reasons why things like this continue to happen. My soft protests of being afraid and alone were drowned out as he berated my inaction.
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It was with a heart full of shame that I confided in a friend, only to be met with his anger and disappointment that I had not shouted at the molester at the time when it happened. “It turns me on to see you so scared.” Source: Source : When I was fifteen, I was groped on a bus. He parked at the end of my road, and didn’t go away for an hour. I ignored his offer to give me a ride, and I panicked when he got out, only to buy me a box of chocolate that I refused. Source: Source : When I was fourteen, a young man in an expensive car followed me home as I walked back from an evening class. As he passed, he winked lasciviously.My friends and I shifted our gazes down, aghast. Source : Huffingtonpost When I was thirteen years old, I exited a restaurant only to see a man visibly masturbating as he walked towards me.
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She slapped him amidst the shouts of onlookers telling her to calm down.She didn’t calm down. Source: Source: When I was twelve years old, I watched as a man on the street touched my mother’s breast as he passed us. Source: Source: When I was eleven, my auto-man told me that we would only leave if I gave him a hug every day.He smelled like cheap soap and cigarettes. He was large and loud, and I proceeded to hide under my bed whenever I learnt that he was visiting.I was known as a rude child.
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Source: Source: When I was ten years old, a relative demanded that he get a kiss on the cheek every time we met. She was pretty and kind, and told me that I could only be her friend if I did what she said.I wanted to be her friend. Source: Source: When I was nine years old, an older girl on the school bus would ask me to lift my skirt up for her. He carried me on his shoulders, and called me pretty.“Teacher’s Pet!” my friends declared, the envy visible on their faces.They ignored me at lunch that day. Source: Source: When I was eight years old, I had an elderly teacher ask me to stay behind in class. He hugged me from behind, giggling all the while.I threw sand in his eyes, and was sent to the Principal. Source: Source: When I was seven years old, I watched a group of fellow second graders cheer as a boy in my class tried to kiss me. “Don’t you want to play?”It was too big, and I threw up on him.He said I’d do better the next time. When I was six years old, I gave my first blowjob.“It’s a game”, said He. This poem was submitted anonymously and first published on Glasnost.