(These are excerpts from a post I wrote in April.)
I came across the following post through a WordPress plugin which brings up supposedly similar blog posts to link to in your own posts:
She writes of her sexual abuse and harassment by a youth leader in her church, but prefaces this with how she was bullied as a kid. I saw similarities with my own experiences, but her comments are turned off (probably because people get mean), so I’m writing this blog response instead.
She, like me, was rejected as a girlfriend, but was a target of sexual harassment by her male peers. This put all sorts of negative opinions of herself into her head. She
couldn’t understand why ninety percent of boys found me repulsive and the remaining ten percent felt this strange need to expose themselves to me in some sexual way.
Same thing with me. My first memory of sexual harassment was from Kindergarten. I loved to wear dresses. Every day I wore a dress, preferred them to pants. Then one day on the way home from school, a couple of boys, smaller than I was, cornered me and kept lifting up my skirt and laughing.
My mother never understood why, all of a sudden, I insisted on wearing pants instead of dresses, because I never told her.
All first semester he’d been harassing me for being a Christian and having conservative values, even though I don’t recall saying a whole lot about them in class or much of anything, really, unless spoken to.
Other kids in Photography class joined in on the religious harassment, including a witch who told me her coven killed my cat (all I said was he went missing on Halloween and never came back), and one day started yelling at me that maybe God is the liar and the Devil is telling the truth–until a Jewish girl told her to quit it and leave me alone.
The one who used me, ripped me apart constantly, then criticized me for being too “negative” and reserved. How could I feel more confident and open when he kept essentially telling me I was unloveable?
And yes, you internalize this. I felt much as Lauren did. I didn’t have a boyfriend at 15 like she did, so there was no sexual activity back then, but I do know how this makes you feel like you’re just a weirdo who no one will actually love, and ugly. My mom got upset with me for not thinking I was pretty, but how could I think so when this is how I got treated? I felt ugly…..
Read more here.