This is not a story about street harassment.
This is a story about domestic violence.
When I was still an eight year old child,
My paternal grandfather used to touch me in a way that made me uncomfortable.
gender violence, sexual violence, child molestation, parents
They told me it was a game.
A game that everyone played.
They wanted to see who was the best one at it.
I was very naive.
Day after day, we’d go into the room and they’d choose one of us to “play” with.
Day after day, we explored each other through this game.
Day after day, I’d enter the apartment with excitement to start playing the game.
My mother made me spend the day with her one day because she was home alone.
While we were playing together, she suddenly took off all her clothes.
“Come here,” she said.
“Take off your clothes.”
sexual violence, child molestation, sexuality, masturbation
I was harassed more than once.
I think I was in fourth grade the first time it happened.
I was on my way home with my little sister.
I sat beside someone.
He had a strange vibe.
I didn’t want to sit next to him,
The first time I was molested,
Or the first time I realized that someone had molested me,
I was a 7 year old child.
He was an old man.
I was on the beach, and he took advantage of me being alone,
While my parents were away,
So he touched me.
gender violence, sexual violence, child molestation, parents, suicide
Then I told them I was going to the bathroom.
The bathroom was in a dark area,
So I told my cousin to come with me.
“I’ll come with you because it’s dark,” the relative said.
I was in third grade, and there was this little shop near school whose owner always called me "sweetheart" whenever I'd pass by.
My first story:
A 7-year-old girl.
She goes to the grocery store every day.
The grocer forces her to look at the scale behind the counter as he stands behind her and says,
“I can’t see very well.”
gender violence, sexual violence, child molestation
My stepfather was the first person to ever harass me.
I wasn’t even 10 years old yet.
I didn’t understand a thing.
He would sneak in at night while I was asleep.
When I’d wake up, he’d pretend to be asleep on the floor,
Or pretend to be checking on my brother.
I told my mother when I understood what was happening.
But she didn’t believe me.
gender violence, sexual violence, child molestation, parents