I began a relationship with someone that didn’t turn out the way it should have. I didn’t write this story to be another #metoo statistic. I’m quite aware of the dangers that women have faced in their lives. Not all women, but a lot of women. My experience and how I handled it was due to a backdrop I don’t wish to exploit. I do however, want for people to understand that things are circumstantial. Everyone has their own experiences and history and mine is my own.

I don’t like being told how to feel or why I do the things I do. I am who I am. All the things I’ve experienced in my life have made me who I’ve become today. I was dealing with a lot when I was growing up and the way I handled things was not necessarily passive, but also not necessarily strong. Mr. Scarcore was my experience and one I never saw myself ever being in.

I have a strong belief that men and women are different. We were built that way. I don’t want to be a man. I like it when guys treat me to dinner or open the door for me. I never feared what men could do, I always knew they could do it. I had men in my life that were good people, who took care of me, who protected me and who fought for me and I’ve had women in my life treat me like I was scum of the earth, who called me names, who wanted to fight me, and who betrayed me easily. I’ve had men say inappropriate things to me and I’ve put them in their place. I’ve woken up in a drunken stir to find my boyfriend pulling my underwear down. I’ve been privy to uncles molesting nieces, a step-father’s private peep show from a secret kitchen hole to a showering step-daughter, mothers having sex with sons’ skating buddies, and boyfriends stalking girls at work. People in general are disgusting. I don’t have a lot of faith in humanity and I’m not one of those people who have to voice every single incident I encounter.

For me, I stayed in an abusive relationship because I had a psychological need to be filled. Nobody can tell me what that experience was like except for me. I think with everything going on in current times, and I commend those who want to come forward and tell their story, but what really just confuses me is that this is not a new issue. This issue has been since the beginning of time. You cannot expect a man to not want to touch you if your boobs are in his face. We are at the very core animals, intelligent ones, but animals nonetheless. Do some of you plan on reworking the entire gender assignment?

I’m conflicted in a lot of ways on this issue because I believe these things are situational. I’m with you ladies, I get the whole movement, but I question some of these accusations. Do I think Aziz Ansari deserved what he got. Do I think my safety is more important than finding a new job. Do I think there’s a political agenda being forced down all of our throats. Do I think the media is the devil. Do I think there’s propaganda being shown on both sides through social media. Do I think the whole “non-verbal” cues is sufficient communication for what one may or may not want. Do I think i would ever be “forced” to watch anyone masterbate (mabye if there was a gun to my head). Should I tell you guys about the time I let my boss come to my house so I could have sex with him. I know women who think it’s ok to post sexually suggestive photos of their bodies and expect to be treated with respect and I know guys who have sent dick pics to their potential girlfriends to show them how much they want them. Do I think the way we view sex and relationships has evolved throughout the years, absofuckinglutely. The point being, do you really care what I think or do you care more about what you have to say?

Blurred lines are not to be ignored and telling people how to think and feel is not helping. I’m all about the good fight, but I also do it in my own way. My job is to share my experiences with my audience and if it helps someone overcome their trials then I’ve done a good job. It took me a long time to deal with what happened to me in that particular relationship. I had become quite co-dependent after that (ask boyfriends 1994-1996). I get triggered by certain tones and actions with men (this whole choking thing you all love so much, WTF). I was in a loving relationship that turned into an abusive one and partially with the help of the people I loved and trusted, men and women. It’s not an easy thing to overcome especially when you blame yourself for enduring it all. I’m not a hashtag. I’m not a victim. I’m not a generalization for my sex. Just because I’m not standing with a crowd of women wearing a pink hat doesn’t mean I don’t stand for something. Just because I think there are things men do really well and there are others women exceed at, does not make me a non-feminist. And just because I was taught very early in life that it is better to be the femme fatale than the real life version of Barbie, doesn’t make me weaker or stronger in any way.

All you have to do as the human race is to open your ears and listen. Be willing to have a discussion and also willing to accept the fact that we aren’t going to agree on everything. I shouldn’t have to be embarrassed by going against the grain sometimes. It’s like smoking in front of a daycare to have an opinion that doesn’t match everyone else’s these days. We don’t live in Facebook, we live in the world, the one where we are the most insignificant blips of the universe. So, yes this happened to me and yes, I overcame it. In fact, I’m stronger for it. I see women, friends, who are in abusive relationships. I let them know they don’t have to stay, that they have support. I share my story with them and I always get, “But I love him so much and how can I just leave them?” and I always answer, “Yeah, but how much do you love yourself and don’t you think you’re worth more?”

Things are complicated and emotions are high. I’ve always believed in being a strong woman and I’ve admired those who do the same. The Kavanaugh’s and Trump’s of the world will always exist, it’s up to us to change the system. I stand with my fellow sisters. I empathize with those who have been violated. We can teach our sons to respect women. We can teach our daughters to love and respect themselves. We can turn off the trash and the noise that we so very much like to justify. We can stop treating each other like dicks all the time and get the fuck off our phones for a minute to actually talk to someone. We can intervene when we see something wrong. We can be compassionate and kind instead of righteous and preachy. We can reach understanding. We can go beyond what we are fed and we can use our words to express ourselves.