So there’s a giant, growing, and extremely creepy megathread up on Reddit at the moment, and for once, the creepiness isn’t coming from inside the Reddit. Well, less of the creepiness is coming from Reddit than you might expect.
Yesterday, you see, a Redditor known as BA_Baracus posted a couple of simple questions to AskReddit: Women of Reddit, when did you first notice that men were looking at you in a sexual way? How old were you and how did it make you feel?
This wasn’t the first time he’d posted a question to his fellow Redditors; he’s posted a bunch, including “People of reddit with eyes that point in different directions, which one of them is usually looking at me?” and, er, “Recent rape victims of Reddit, how did it happen, and what the hell were you doing in India?” None of these questions got much of a response.
But this time, well, thousands of “women of Reddit” stepped forward to tell the horrifying yet in most cases completely unsurprising stories of the first time men started perving on them, in many cases before they were even teenagers.
Here’s a sampling of some of their stories. TRIGGER WARNING for extreme fucking creepiness.
Age 8, followed to a department store changing room
Age 8, molested by a landlord
Age 12, at a bus stop
11 or 12, walking to and from school
Age 12, waiting for carryout
Age 11, creepy step-grandfather
Age 12, creepy step-uncle
Age 10, wearing a Lion King backpack and light-up shoes
Age 12, creepy cell phone salesman
Age 11, walking home from the beach
Age 12, in Blockbuster (with bonus Reddit creepiness)
14, eating a lollipop
Age 12, eating a banana
Naturally, some Redditors decided to add to the creepiness:
And all this makes pretty clear just why we need age of consent laws:
Of course, many of these creepy guys are well aware that the targets of their creepiness are a long way away from being “legal.”
Check out the thread for countless more stories like this.
H/T — u/Iwillpixiecutyou on Reddit
I think I was 20 the first time I realized an adult woman was interested in me for anything other than study notes.
@sunnysombrera Yeah, two of them got me home once when I was out of my head drunk. All that happened was they gave me hell for a coupla weeks about drinking too much 🙂
They carried me when I couldn’t walk, and only bitched mildly when I vomited 😛
@gilshalos – I’m in the same boat. I’m a 35 year old cishet woman and I haven’t really been harassed or catcalled, either (even the unwanted touching I’ve gotten in places like clubs and shows has been pretty mild). I’ve been lucky in my friendships and even luckier in my circumstances.
The stuff that u/I_Dont_Own_A_Cat (David’s last featured commenter from the reddit thread) said above, though…that’s kind of making me rethink some interactions I had with men when I was in my twenties. I looked younger than my age for a long time since I had a baby face and was pretty slight of build. I also worked a job for a while with kind of odd hours, so I’d sometimes be at the movies or the store or walking my dog in the daytime. I got quite a few “no school today, huh?” comments – always from men – when I was out and about. These civic minded citizens always wander off after I explained that no, twenty-six year old women don’t normally have to worry about getting to gym class before the tardy bell rings. I didn’t really think anything of those guys, except that they were kind of nosy. Now I suspect more sinister motives from a few of them. Ugh. I hope they didn’t find any girls who really were skipping school.
@sunnysombrera, that’s what riles me up about douchecakes like C.H.Sommers and their ‘boys will be boys’ brand of reasoning. The evidence countering this is blindingly obvious – many men choose not to engage in behaviours and attitudes that would be considered typically or toxically masculine. They exist. I mean, there are a hell of a lot of them. To argue that toxic masculinity (aggression, domination) is endemic in all men, is largely a result of immutable biological differences, not only demonizes men, but enables a rape culture which depicts sexual assault, rape and harassment as uncontrollable urges which cannot be helped. The victim really should have known better.
For my own self-care I have banned myself from watching Sommers.
RE: the reddit thread – if anyone’s interested, the Everyday Sexism Project (http://everydaysexism.com/) is similar, documenting thousands and thousands of instances of routine harassment and prejudice faced by women across the globe. It was developed by Laura Bates in 2012 and became pretty big news. The book is also worth a read.
A good friend of mine was inappropriately hit on from the moment she turned 12 and her only crime was being way more polite to people than they deserved. I remember walking home from school with her and, at least once a week, someone would whistle at her or shout at her from passing cars. Thank god it never crossed the line into actual physical abuse.
In all my interactions with women I try to bear this in mind: if they were directly related to me, how would I want them to be treated? Seems like a pretty solid guideline to me.
I was 11, at a school field trip to a Mexican restaurant. We were learning Spanish and had to order our food in Spanish. I left to go to the bathroom, which was in the back near the kitchens, and when I came out, half the staff had surrounded me and were talking to me in rapid-fire Spanish. I just stood there, dumbfounded, when one of them finally asked if I understand. I said no and he went on to tell me how beautiful I was and what a good wife I would make. I just said no again, and ran past them back to my classmates. Later, those same guys were talking to my teacher and she said in front of everybody “He is saying you are muy bonita. That means very pretty.” Another worker was in the corner with his head in his hands, staring creepily at my blonde haired friends. He said “American girls are beautiful too.” We. Were. 11. Years. Old. These were middle aged men. It was horrifying.
I have been hit on by older men my whole life; it had always been sort of a sick running joke between me and my friends. Strangely enough, as soon as I turned of age, it all stopped, like magic. There are a TON of creepy, predatory men out there. People don’t even understand what we go through, way younger than we should ever have to put up with it.
Hmm. 13 or fourteen. Can’t remember whether it was when my stepdad patted my ass in our swimming pool (he later asked why I wasn’t “as hot as Britney Spears”, which is a strange question to get when you’re fourteen/fifteen, she’s sixteen, and he’s in his fifties and raised you since you were two) or when a guy in a pickup honked at me while I was walking with my grandma. The weirdest part of that second one was her response, which was to congratulate me on the compliment.
The point of the whole thing is that it happened more than once on the road up to the legal age, and at least twice it came from men old enough to be my grandfather. I still get hit on by men old enough to be my grandfather. It feels just as creepy as it did back then.
I remember walking home from school in 5-6 grade and there was often gardeners/yard workers at one house or another. They would whistle and hoot and holler all kinds of disgusting crap. I remember feeling such contempt, I thought shaking my head in disgust while continuing to walk would send the message that they were scum. All I wanted was for them to feel stupid and guilty and embarrassed like they should feel. I wish I had piped up and told them to fuck off, but who knows that could’ve pissed them off and want to come after me.
Once in my twenties I started screaming at this guy that just walked by and smacked my friends ass and said “now that’s a great ass!” I started berating him and he turned around with his entourage (this was at a club) and started coming after me. My friends and I shrieked and ran away. I don’t yell back anymore.
Jesus powersliding christ, there is not enough brain bleach in the world to erase my disgust!
(first time commenting!)
One of the interesting things I noticed about my experience — like many of the posters in the thread, I got a lot of creepy comments when I was really young. The one that sticks out the most was a friend’s father who made a pun on my name that was obviously a reference to, well, pubic hair (“garden of Eden” or something like that). Thankfully it was so innocuous that I was only confused, but looking back on it it’s fucking weird. But since about 17, it’s tapered off, and the last time I got harassed was when I was out with my girlfriend (which is definitely a different kind) – now that it’s more obvious that I’m an adult, men seem to have lost interest in harassing me — but my smaller friends (skinnier, smaller breasts, who dress more “cutely”) get chatted up often when they’re with me. So…. once you look like an adult woman, you’re much less harassable?
There were two things when I was about 4, dunno which was first. Only in retrospect could I judge the looks as sexually motivated (and one I’m still not sure of) but they struck me as creepy-looking even then.
One culminated in molestation by an uncle.
The other involved a male stranger following by car three little girls between the ages of 4 and 11 on a candy run to and from the corner store. He actually offered us candy that he said was in the back. (Apparently, yes, this really happens.) In retrospect, I figure he wanted to kidnap us, but I’ve no idea for what purposes. Then I just knew he was acting oddly and making my older cousins scared.
After that, I was probably twelve or so before men started going “mmm-mm” at me for no good reason and similar crap.
Does it have to be adult men? Why should pubescent boys get a pass? The first peer who creeped on me was the guy who sat next to me in 7th grade math (12-13yo). He kept trying to “accidentally” touch my breasts for months, only ending because it all came out in class when he complained about how I defended myself. (Spine of a folder to the hand/wrist/arm. Which I couldn’t have reached unless he was stretching where he oughtn’t.) Fortunately, the teacher was a woman and took this seriously. In addition to a good talking to both publicly and privately, his punishment involved sitting at a desk far from everyone else for a month and never sitting where he could touch another person in the class ever again.
How did it make me feel? Like I was an object rather than a person. It let me know there were adults I couldn’t trust. And peers as well.
I had to quit reading after 4-5 of them, these are just … ugh..
@because reasons – I really hope you are safe, and well, and onto better things. Jedi hugs, if you want them.
Staci Cakes – your story reminds me of a school trip to Cologne (I was 17), but on our way to a restaurant, we rode a tram which was full enough that a few of us had to stand, and the grey-moustached old man in the seat next to me gestured at me to sit on his lap.
I wish I had ever learned some cutting comebacks, but they don’t ever teach you “confrontational German” in school.
It’s quite depressing that of all forms of sexism documented at the Everyday Sexism Project, sexual harassment and assault seem to be by far the most prevalent. Especially against very young girls and women.
The patterns are always the same – The Coaxer is a calculating predator will never explicitly state his intentions, and relies on the naivety of his target will make her easier to manipulate. The Lech will use vulgar language or lewd behaviour to make his target ashamed of his attentions. The Drive-by just loves to indiscriminately remind others that they are not safe in public…
And I’m with Sunnysombrera and Misha – the fact that this deliberate, predatory behaviour goes un-checked, means that we just become so desensitized to it, it becomes so “normal” that the creeps hide in plain sight, sometimes about as convincingly as a fucking raptor in Groucho-Marx glasses, and yet someone will reliably find *some way* to blame the victim.
It seems more people are telling their stories now, and that can be a powerful force for changing the narrative… but there’s still a long way to go to chip away at rape culture.
Every time the MRA brigade trundle out their NotAllMen, let’s “err on the side of a 12-year-old having sex”, or various other sundry rape apologisms, this is the kind of nasty violence and intimidation they think it’s important to defend.
I need some brain-bleach, but I don’t think they make any strong enough.
@because reasons
Hugs to you, and Paradoxical, and everyone who has been abused by predators in their family. Although I was never sexually abused or molested I understand how things in your early years can really mess with your head for years to come. It’s an incredible battle I’ve faced for a long long time.
I remember being a small child and being quite isolated from my parents – Dad was always absent, or when he was home he did little but bark orders and criticise. He had no patience for mistakes, even kid mistakes like dropping things or tripping when running. There were a couple scarring occasions when he would completely rage at things that weren’t actually a big deal, causing me to believe, even now, that there is no way I can know if I’m doing something right and if I DO slip up the consequences will undoubtedly be extreme and terrible. Although there were good times with him the cold hearted times were more frequent. I just thought of him as the scary grumpy man who lived in our house and apparently was family. Mum had to give the line “He does love you but doesn’t know how to show it.” From all the criticism from both parents I wound up with the belief that I’m hopeless and a natural failure. And that I’ve every reason to fear people.
My mum was quite similar but not as bad – if and when she did play games with me she never actually engaged. She didn’t seem to want to be there. I didn’t realise it at the time but looking back I realise she just wasn’t that excited to do stuff with me. Which led me to believe, even now, that I’m just not a very loveable person. That I must be pretty unattractive to others if they don’t really enjoy my company.
Sorry for the random feels spill, I just thought I’d illustrate how I understand that early bad experiences really really affect you for years after. Also it’s kind of therapeutic to say this stuff to people who I know won’t dismiss it. 🙂
brb going to punch everything
@sunnysombrera I have close male friends as well and I’d trust them with anything (and my husband is happy that I have them). I’ve slept on their couches, watched movies with them, and hung out with them when feeling down about my husband being on one of his three month deployments.
It’s partially because I have these friends that I’m so strongly a feminist. Society’s gender narrative basically says that men are a bunch of sex-obsessed monsters and cannot be trusted with women. It says women can’t possibly trust a male friend. It says men can’t possibly care about women without wanting to have sex with them. That’s bull. I wish more men would realize that’s bull.
But the majority of the reason is because:
* creepers catcall me thinking I’m 16 and leer in a tone of voice that implies they want to corrupt me or some other gross thing like that (ha! I’m 25 and have been married for 3 years.)
*** completely ignoring them followed by a piercing glare as soon as you have an out works pretty well
* contractors in a completely unrelated industry to mine and not even working in the same area (in one instance a painter – I was doing stuff with computers in a room that was not being painted) will interrupt me when I’m very clearly working to try and make “friendly” conversation. It’s the societal entitlement that you just GET to talk to whatever woman you find pretty because you HAVE to have the chance to woo her. And the way they corner me into conversation feels pretty threatening, even if the conversation usually isn’t.
* all the other non-anecdotal reasons to be a feminist
Yup 😛
And yeah, it really makes me sad how some men pretend to be the kind of men I’m friends with – even for long periods of time – then turn around and assault women in the snap of a finger (using the same justification as the men who try to pull that crap right away). I’ve heard of that and have been lucky managing to avoid that type of guy.
I started noticing looks when I was 10/11 or so (I was already 5’6″+ with breasts), but things really ramped up when I was 12.
During the winter before my 12th birthday (in March), I grew *a lot*. By that summer I was 5’9″ with C cups (kept going to D/DD) – I still have very slightly silver stretch marks from how fast my hips and chest came in – and…yeah. I was gangly (“coltish” if you’D like to be kind) and obviously not yet fully cooked, but the attention I’d get from grown men…add to that my vaguely “not quite all white…asian?” facial features (there’s a bit of AmInd in my family) that probably just exacerbated things.
I very quickly became uncomfortable in anything remotely “feminine” or “reavealing” (like, you know, mid-thigh shorts and a fitted t-shirt) and developed a knee-length cargo shorts, baggy tees, chucks, and flannel style ;p (it was the early/mid 90s).
That curtailed – but didn’t completely stop – the comments and the stares. When I was an older teen, quite a few women became interested but they were at least nicer/not lechy about it and took it well when I’d explain that I didn’t swing towards women.
It’s taken a lot – and a very patient spouse – to begin to get comfortable/not dread my body and sexuality.
I remember when I was six or seven, I was walking with my mother, and someone said to her something along the lines of “who’s the daughter?” I was confused and I asked her what he meant by that, and she said that he was probably trying to compliment her by saying she looked young. It was confusing at the time, but now I understand it.
I think I was twelve or thirteen the first time I got catcalled. I can’t remember what they particularly said, but I remember how angry it made me feel. I could never get the strength to say something back, but I always wanted to yell about how old I was to embarrass them. When I was 16, I felt that I no longer had the ability to do this, since I thought they would laugh at me and it would be embarrassing for me to think that 16 years old was too young.
Hugs to everyone who has/had to deal with harrassment from creeps. It’s so horrible that this is what reality for girls/women looks like.
I can’t really remember the first time it happened to me. I just know that in my teenage years the cat calls and comments from strangers on the street were something that was just there – and it made me feel humiliated and angry but I didn’t really know what to say or how to react. It was the same with the occasional grabbing when going out. I knew that there was no satisfying way to react to this kind of thing because no matter what I’d do they would only laugh at my reaction. And this feeling powerless was the worst for me.
I think it came mostly from guys my age/a few years older though, I don’t remember any creepy middle aged guys.
The worst thing that happened to me in regard to those things was when I was 16 and my then-best-friend (who I didn’t even suspect wanted anything from me other than friendship) suddenly choked me and tried to rape me. In a purely instinctive reaction I kicked him where it hurts and managed to get away – physically unharmed but it took several years for me to heal from this emotionally and mentally. I trusted him completely before this happened. after this we ignored each other (he went to the same school). I actually tried to talk to him and restore the friendship because I felt I needed it but he acted like I had wronged him and wouldn’t even speak with me.
THIS. And what Ikeke said about it being part and parcel of all the body shaming/policing that women and girls get, too. It really makes you feel like there’s not a male person in the world you can trust, sometimes. And that goes double and triple for those who are actually relatives, too.
I think what nauseates me the most of all I’ve read in this thread so far is the stepfathers, who all apparently think that what they’re doing is okay because they’re not her “real” father, i.e. sperm donor biodaddy. Dude, if you’re married to or living with her mother, and you’re raising her as if she were your kid, you fucking are her father. Or the nearest equivalent to it. Fucking act the part and don’t assume that she’s a sexual accessory that came with her mom as a bonus for your dick. And don’t you DARE think that just because she’s in puberty means she’s fair game now. She sees you as her dad, and she trusts/relies upon you to protect her as a grownup in loco parentis should. Same goes for the teachers out there — you’re in a quasi-parental position of trust, you protect those kids from harassment and molestation. You don’t do it to them yourself. They are NOT your happy fucking hunting ground.
Hugs to everybody who wants/needs one right now. I’ll dig up some kitties for later.
I would like to offer internet hugs and cute baby animals to anyone who wants them.
This just takes my breath away and makes me want to vomit in my own mouth. For those of you who have shared their stories, I think you are all so very brave and strong. I really don’t have the strength to share mine still (most happened decades ago) because it brings up a whirlwind of feelings, but it is important to talk about it. How else will things change if no one says anything.
To add to what I put; its a little hard to put into words how it makes me feel. I know it sounds cliche, but “like a piece of meat” is the closest description. I become hyper aware of my breasts, butt, etc, and it makes me feel uncomfortable in my own body, like I’m a mishmash of parts. And I know its dramatic, but it makes me feel a little less than human.
I do bet that the guy who started the thread probably thought he’d get all these fun, sexy stories about young women in their late teens having sexual awakenings. Because of male privilege he didn’t realize how common it is for adult to men to creep on young women. It’s not fun and sexy it’s scary.