Where to even begin...
So some (if not many) of you are aware of the latest fandom dust up. If not there are several posts at metafandom that go through everything. Please be warned that these posts deal with issues of sexual coercion, consent, bullying and victim blaming and can definitely be termed as "Triggery" so proceed with caution.
I've gone round and round on whether I was going to make this post or not. I came slightly late to the party (as usual) and I tend not to make posts during fandom stuff because I always feel like I'm just standing there waving a flag that says "me too" when others have put things so much more eloquently than I could. I'm also unsure of my ability to articulate many things for reasons which will probably (hopefully) become clearer later in the post. So I apologize if I wander off in spots. It was also easier to write this in my head when I was still quite ragey. Now I'm at the emotionally numb and tired stage, so not so much with the easy.
So last night I was browsing through my flist and amireal had posted about the SPN Con ... I don't want to call it wank because it's so not. I guess it's more of a reaction and outrage. If you want the details see the link above to metafandom. I read the post that amireal linked to (and I want to be clear that she did warn and I clicked through anyway). I got ragey at the post (the linked one, not amireal's) which was essentially a giant stack of victim blaming couched in talk of personal responsibility. This is something that will always upset me. However, I expected to be upset, kind of move on and to continue reading posts throughout today.
See, I've always thought that I didn't have any triggers when it came to reading things. There were always things that would squick or I would hit the back button to save my blood pressure from, but none of these were to the level that I would define them as triggering. Unfortunately, as of today that's no longer the case.
When I left for work this morning I still had the whole post in my head and it was still somewhat upsetting. What pushed it into the 'trigger' category was what happened on the way to work. I take the bus, well two buses, to work. I've taken public transportation for many years. I know how to be aware of my surroundings and generally how to avoid interaction with people who set my alarms off. This morning those alarms didn't work.
I got on the first bus, which was relatively empty. I chose my normal seat near the back. Almost immediately after I sat down, a man plopped into the seat next to me. In fact, he initially sat on my purse because I hadn't picked it up yet. I was irritated because there were SEVERAL empty rows on the bus so there was no reason he had to sit next to me. Even though I was irritated, I didn't move. It was part stubbornness (I was there first) and part me not wanting to seem rude. I figured the bus would fill up at some point anyway, so it wouldn't really matter if it was that guy or someone else.
I should state that this particular bus isn't a full size city bus. It goes through Laurel Canyon which is quite windy and a bit narrow in parts so it has to be smaller. It also lacks shocks in a significant way. So as the bus makes its way through the Canyon it's quite bouncy. For those who haven't met me in person, now is also when I should mention that my boobs are not of an insignificant size. Essentially what happened was this guy tried to use the bouncing of the bus to 'subtly' move his arm/hand into my space and cop a feel. When I clicked to what he was doing, I'd like to say that I immediately pushed him off and told him to move somewhere else. Unfortunately, I flashed back to the post I'd read the night before and back to when I was 10 years old.
I have a vivid memory from when I was 10 that I've carried around with me. I was laying on the floor in my grandmother's living room. I was wearing a pair of jeans and my favorite pink t-shirt. My mom and grandmother started having a conversation over me (not with me) about how I was developing so early and that I was going to need a bra very soon because I couldn't be seen out in public in just a t-shirt anymore because 'boys could see everything'. What that set in my brain was that a) my breasts were something abnormal, b) that they were something boys would be interested in and c) that they were something to be covered and hidden away.
This foundation along with other things that happened when I was young - which I won't get into here at the moment - shaped my love/hate relationship with my body. It was also a contributing factor in why for much of my life I felt like I had no voice or tools to articulate when I was uncomfortable with someone's attention to my body. To me if someone was paying extra attention to me (my breasts or otherwise), then it was my fault. My responsibility because I hadn't covered it properly. It's only been the past few years that I've truly taken ownership of my body in the sense that I know it's *my* body and no-one else has the right to touch, objectify or whatever it without my consent.
Prior to that, in my head anything that happened was my fault because of how I looked or because that's just the way it was. Again, I didn't have the voice or the emotional tools to be able to state my discomfort. Verbalizing it also meant that I was responsible for making someone else unhappy or possibly even mad. (Which is totally tied into the other stuff that I'm not going to go into now.) Now that I'm more aware of this, I do have coping mechanisms, but I still feel strongly for those who don't or who are put in a position where these things aren't available.
I did eventually tell the five foot nothing guy that I'd blocked advances for guys far bigger and tougher than him and he moved for the final few minutes of the ride. I also spent the next half hour on the next bus hoping that nobody could tell that I was crying behind my sunglasses because I was so pissed. Not exactly a stellar day, but some self-discovery came out of it in the long run.
As a final note on this, if you feel that victim blaming is in any way shape or form acceptable, please find the unfriend option now. It's one of my absolute no-go's regardless of how long I've known someone.
I've gone round and round on whether I was going to make this post or not. I came slightly late to the party (as usual) and I tend not to make posts during fandom stuff because I always feel like I'm just standing there waving a flag that says "me too" when others have put things so much more eloquently than I could. I'm also unsure of my ability to articulate many things for reasons which will probably (hopefully) become clearer later in the post. So I apologize if I wander off in spots. It was also easier to write this in my head when I was still quite ragey. Now I'm at the emotionally numb and tired stage, so not so much with the easy.
So last night I was browsing through my flist and amireal had posted about the SPN Con ... I don't want to call it wank because it's so not. I guess it's more of a reaction and outrage. If you want the details see the link above to metafandom. I read the post that amireal linked to (and I want to be clear that she did warn and I clicked through anyway). I got ragey at the post (the linked one, not amireal's) which was essentially a giant stack of victim blaming couched in talk of personal responsibility. This is something that will always upset me. However, I expected to be upset, kind of move on and to continue reading posts throughout today.
See, I've always thought that I didn't have any triggers when it came to reading things. There were always things that would squick or I would hit the back button to save my blood pressure from, but none of these were to the level that I would define them as triggering. Unfortunately, as of today that's no longer the case.
When I left for work this morning I still had the whole post in my head and it was still somewhat upsetting. What pushed it into the 'trigger' category was what happened on the way to work. I take the bus, well two buses, to work. I've taken public transportation for many years. I know how to be aware of my surroundings and generally how to avoid interaction with people who set my alarms off. This morning those alarms didn't work.
I got on the first bus, which was relatively empty. I chose my normal seat near the back. Almost immediately after I sat down, a man plopped into the seat next to me. In fact, he initially sat on my purse because I hadn't picked it up yet. I was irritated because there were SEVERAL empty rows on the bus so there was no reason he had to sit next to me. Even though I was irritated, I didn't move. It was part stubbornness (I was there first) and part me not wanting to seem rude. I figured the bus would fill up at some point anyway, so it wouldn't really matter if it was that guy or someone else.
I should state that this particular bus isn't a full size city bus. It goes through Laurel Canyon which is quite windy and a bit narrow in parts so it has to be smaller. It also lacks shocks in a significant way. So as the bus makes its way through the Canyon it's quite bouncy. For those who haven't met me in person, now is also when I should mention that my boobs are not of an insignificant size. Essentially what happened was this guy tried to use the bouncing of the bus to 'subtly' move his arm/hand into my space and cop a feel. When I clicked to what he was doing, I'd like to say that I immediately pushed him off and told him to move somewhere else. Unfortunately, I flashed back to the post I'd read the night before and back to when I was 10 years old.
I have a vivid memory from when I was 10 that I've carried around with me. I was laying on the floor in my grandmother's living room. I was wearing a pair of jeans and my favorite pink t-shirt. My mom and grandmother started having a conversation over me (not with me) about how I was developing so early and that I was going to need a bra very soon because I couldn't be seen out in public in just a t-shirt anymore because 'boys could see everything'. What that set in my brain was that a) my breasts were something abnormal, b) that they were something boys would be interested in and c) that they were something to be covered and hidden away.
This foundation along with other things that happened when I was young - which I won't get into here at the moment - shaped my love/hate relationship with my body. It was also a contributing factor in why for much of my life I felt like I had no voice or tools to articulate when I was uncomfortable with someone's attention to my body. To me if someone was paying extra attention to me (my breasts or otherwise), then it was my fault. My responsibility because I hadn't covered it properly. It's only been the past few years that I've truly taken ownership of my body in the sense that I know it's *my* body and no-one else has the right to touch, objectify or whatever it without my consent.
Prior to that, in my head anything that happened was my fault because of how I looked or because that's just the way it was. Again, I didn't have the voice or the emotional tools to be able to state my discomfort. Verbalizing it also meant that I was responsible for making someone else unhappy or possibly even mad. (Which is totally tied into the other stuff that I'm not going to go into now.) Now that I'm more aware of this, I do have coping mechanisms, but I still feel strongly for those who don't or who are put in a position where these things aren't available.
I did eventually tell the five foot nothing guy that I'd blocked advances for guys far bigger and tougher than him and he moved for the final few minutes of the ride. I also spent the next half hour on the next bus hoping that nobody could tell that I was crying behind my sunglasses because I was so pissed. Not exactly a stellar day, but some self-discovery came out of it in the long run.
As a final note on this, if you feel that victim blaming is in any way shape or form acceptable, please find the unfriend option now. It's one of my absolute no-go's regardless of how long I've known someone.