That theme, which I decided to pick up today, not a pleasant one. Yes, it will be ugly. A sort of a bitter pill, which tries to swallow. Sixteen plus, as they write in the newspapers.

That tells you a man in the face (virtually there, really there), that, well, forget you, my dear, it is – to be a woman. The emancipation of all the brains to powder, and about the female essence and zapyamyatovali. Behaves like a man, I’m sorry, Lord!

And I say that we will never allow to forget about what we have sex, race and tribe. We regularly remind us that we are different from men, and sometimes even insist that we “do not always want to, but we can always.” I’m talking about violence, physical and psychological. And so he would not be subject to, have to pretend to be a man …?

In a blog I read this quote. I quote it word for word, spelling and punctuation preserved.

“I also know what it is. My friends know what it is. Violence – physical and sexual – a very common phenomenon in our Palestine. Violence – an adult uncle, father of the family that covers you, schoolgirl, in the office and starts to stick, and you’re just nemeesh tsepeneesh and horror, you’re just a kid, which was taught to obey their elders, that is, to be obedient. It’s hard, unbearably hard to beat briefcase between human legs, which is always called by my name.

Violence – a man’s palm in transport, greedy and merciless to your dvenadtsatiletiya. This driver is a public bus, who promised your mother to look after you and to land in the village with my grandmother, but instead grinning: “Will you go with me to the end.” This is your run, your rabbit fear, your frantic heartbeat, your dread of adults incomprehensible world.

Violence – a boy, Igor, in which you love and which first invites to a slow dance, and then, having withdrawn a little away from the entrance to the club, a slap in the face in response to your frightened “Do not …”

It tears Tanya, who not only raped but also stripped in the park, not to run away, – the gentleman went for another. This taxi driver who does not let you out of the car. It’s a familiar your boyfriend, who first called to take you home, but lucky in the end to itself, and you’re on the go jump out of the car, not trying to figure out how to run the risk. It is the voice of Julia in the handset: “Just … Near the house … Some in the header. I pretended that I like, that he did not kill me. Just do not tell anyone. ”

These are the words of your friend Dima how a grown man waylaid him, the boy, the garage … It’s a nice intelligent man, who is one of helplessness and anger: “Ah, you do not want” – begins to strangle you. This chief, who faces dismissal if not give in. This drunken policeman, who, after receiving the resignation, comes to the birth of day light and aiming a pistol at her: “I have decided to throw?”

This tens, hundreds, men, youth arrogant hands fists, threats, slaps, kicks, poking, bumps that accompany your youth and youth of your friends. And do not tell me that it does not exist. Not. Dare. To me. It. Speak. From all fear dries the mouth, you know that? You know how girls are afraid that even that summer were just children, and this summer already are objects of sexual assault?

They are not taught to defend themselves, they only called silent when speaking seniors. And all their experience, all their skill – it’s so quiet.

The reason is that most women know – exactly what happens. We are silent. None of the raped, I knew, I never went to the police. I do not say anything to parents. Mask the bruises and abrasions. To pretend that everything is all right. To Now any fool in LiveJournal could say with confidence: “Yes, you come up with.”

What is the reason for this silence? It is not only self-flagellation, not only in the fact that the crime victim does not trust the professionalism of investigators. The victim just knows – the people most likely to be blamed not the true culprit, and her. Somehow, it’s easier. Even the relatives tend to think in a way: “It’s probably my fault. I would think so, otherwise I will explode the brain. ”

American Alice Sebold is described in the autobiographical novel: “It was about a rapist weapons. Maybe, I’ll mention that the police found my glasses and his knife is almost in the same place, near the paved brick walkway.

“You mean in the tunnel when it did not have a knife?” – Surprised father. “Well” – I confirmed. “I do not understand … how he managed to rape you if he did not have a knife?” Well, if the father can not figure out what was happening, and practically accuse you, if you yourself would like – “Yes, yes, make me sick!” – to be beaten and raped, then what to speak of others? Understanding not wait. Wait sidelong glances, whispers behind his back: “This is it, the one … Did you hear what happened to her?” – And even bullying.

“Raped” – a label. You’re not the one, you’re lost, spoiled, leper. Have you ever lived in a dorm? You know that there are rape? Often. Lonely provincial, small and frightened, to whom it could complain? It just continues to live there, where the walls are painted obscene pictures depicting her with her legs spread wide, and the next – all of the male figures. And the inscription: “Lenka gives everything.” And while the public would react that way, violence will not be less. We just do not want to know about it. And all who encountered him, the shame and stigma. It hurts. With great enthusiasm. “
No, it’s not about me. In six years, I have saved my brother … Some good uncle called me for garages, offering candy to eat, and my nine year old brother told her uncle that my mother will approach now, and uncle, fearing left.

And when I was eight, we escaped with a girlfriend from a strange uncle glasses … By the time the parents have already spent with us explanatory conversations on killers who love to kill children, luring them into the gateway offers pet kitten or taste the cake. That man, turning to us, said: “Girls, you want ice cream?” – And we turned around and gave dёru his legs.

This mysterious topic and caused us malyshni, a storm of emotions, the veil of secrecy and the desire to somehow clarify something. The innocent child, my brother and I stripped and studied each other, and even touched … Such are the children’s entertainment. Now it somehow ashamed to remember.

And in the interest of the school to the secondary sexual characters are not weakened. The boys all the time trying to somehow “cuddle” or pinch, so I went with a heavy smenkoy in hand and beat without talking. Company teenagers could come and ask in the face “girl, and if we iznasiluem you?”.

In ten years time I ran in eleven escaped from strong hands, and at age 12, in a camp, I walked once at the fence, and the fence for the man drew. I look and see that from his “sausage” sticking out of his pants. “Girl, you want to, come, touch …” I turned and ran to the police station. It seemed to me that I screamed with all his might, but I was later told that I ran in silence.

In 14 I cried at the funeral of beheaded maniac friend …

In 15 of the torn me all eyes on the caretaker cottage Sedat. Long I tried to talk about how to make love pygmies. Thank God, in the presence of my mother glued hesitated.

How many times had to lie, dodge, run away, jump out of the bus … I was very happy that not too beautiful, so avoided another disaster – I’ve never tried to “remove” the lads on tinted cars. But all the same, had to constantly be on the alert.

At sixteen, he wore a pocket knife. Just in case. In the seventeen years I had to take the gun. I thank my guardian angel, which has managed to do in this area of criminal to live to adulthood.

In field practice once in our local house-girl drunk broke down the door and rushed with knives at the girls. Those – run to our boys, was “Mahach”. I slept almost all the incident, woke up by the end. But the gun under the pillow continued to squeeze.

Coming of Age in the arsenal of means of self-defense have been a knife, gun and pepper spray.

I am trying to “walk” with the guys, but becoming disgusting. Through sex education, I know that sex with a casual partner inexperienced “in the bush” does not bring any pleasure, but problems can add very much.

However, because of what happened in those days churching I even did not consider such options for communicating with the opposite sex. Therefore, the first relationship ended quickly enough – I was not able to overcome themselves and to “give” to it. And this is correct it was not necessary. What for?

Offers different levels abominations regularly, especially when it became more or less decently dressed. Taxi drivers, colleagues, “national minorities” and Tatars, especially the older ones, are constantly treated with indecent requests. I went to the market for food, so there’s face old butcher suggested: “You will be my mistress?” Yes, mistress called often, but marriage – never. No “inchurched” or secular.

Raped schoolmates … girls from school, engaging in prostitution, fifteen teenagers who “live” with a grown man … None of my classmates lost his virginity with their peers.

I had long been disgusting even to think about “it.”

At the age of reason I have decided to go to karate. Sport I always worked, but then it became an elementary scary for themselves. Since then, by the way, we have become much less likely to stick. Perhaps no longer look like a victim in the eyes of the character became readable.

I noticed that since then no longer give yourself hurt. Nobody. Although, of course, more stuff happens.

Though I taught life and still get in a situation where the arm strength and quickness of feet and eyes, which can kill, can save health and even life. But some of my friends have not learned this wisdom. Therefore, sometimes it is necessary to comfort: “I Armenians lured-raped,” “How could he do this to me, I thought he was from a good family,” “I think he likes me, but he only sex like … I struggled, and he me in the face … ”

Yes, it’s tempting to catch myself thinking that “all men – the goats.” After all, among the “faithful” found footage in which refraining from the roof goes, and they at the sight of women lose all ability to control themselves, and immediately offer to take action, because it can no longer “walking by the handle.”

I had to learn artless science “dynamo”, masterly learn to refuse. I firmly decided that “without love, with mutual, nothing will.” Sorry for the details. But it’s all true, so that’s life.

You read sometimes sweet romance and realize how far they are from reality … Too many of them are not capable of tenderness, relating to women wary, as a predator who just need the money. And marriage – a trap into which they lured the females.

I have many friends among the men who treat me like a woman-friend, excluding relationship. You know, as if there is they have such a switch, that a woman can be a man-or a friend, or sexual object. They did not seem to know how to be both friends and lovers.

I look around and it seems that any sexual relations or something neurotically painted. The reasons are many, and one of them – this is especially educating boys. We are feminized!

Women, too, as a society gone mad. With twenty-two years I have started to set up, it is possible “to have a baby for themselves” outside of marriage. Around me the number of single mothers is through the roof! Someone accidentally “flown”, but did not have an abortion, someone with despair fathered a child from a loved one who was not going to marry someone simply have given up on the idea of marriage, and this yielded the same persuasion.

So, dear man, we never cease to remember that we – real women. And even if we want to forget, we remind.

And I am sure that all women are frigid, frightened women, who fear intimacy, indifferent to men women snow queens that discourage too cold behavior side of you on the streets and constantly afraid, afraid, afraid, do not come from nowhere. This, incidentally, is your fault!

Not for nothing on zabugornyh dating sites write that Russian woman is like frozen strawberries. To get a taste, it is first necessary to “warm up”.

This sad diary has a joyful ending: I still have a normal man. But that’s another story …