Processing the feels

I am still reacting to this man who invaded my personal space and tried to touch me without my permission. Mainly with rage, because how dare he? How DARE he!

No unauthorised persons allowed beyond this point

And yet, the more I think about it, how sad.

How sad that this toxic society has created some men who will only ever touch a woman by forcing, grabbing, coercing, snatching.

Who will never know the feeling of being invited freely to share our personal space.

Who so thoroughly view us as objects they can never see the messy wonder of our humanity.

Who will only ever experience the sharpness of women who won’t take that treatment, or the brittle edges of the ones who break beneath their rough hands.

How sad, the connections they will never make, the friends they will never have, the possibilities they will never even know are possibilities.

I’m angry that I live in a society where women wonder when we will be violated again; there is no if. In fact, I’m raging.

And yet, I pity that man. I pity all men like him, for everything they will miss out on, precisely because they believe they are entitled to us.

How terribly sad.


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