Here's the thing about Matriarchy:
Matriarchy, like Patriarchy, means that the Women are in charge, which means that when we talk about rape and misogyny and the way in which men exert their power wholly over women, Matriarchy means that women exert their power wholly over men on an individual level and as an entire population of the females of humanity.
So when I read things online with the tone, "Men need to start taking it upon themselves to teach other men how not-to rape women," I want to throw up.
Men will always rape Women.
Men are larger.
Men are stronger.
Men are stupider.
Men are cowards.
Men are vile.
Even the most-educated men among us are still men with penises that rule over them and everything they do, think about and pursue.
In Matriarchy, men are not our protectors.
In Matriarchy, as a group, we Women are more than capable of protecting each other.
In Matriarchy, Women, as a whole, work together to both sniff out and eject these fuckers who think that their penises make them both "better" than women and "entitled" to our pussies.
In feminism:
WOMEN ARE THE RULERS OF WOMEN'S BODIES, TOGETHER, COLLECTIVELY, AS A WHOLE.
In feminism:
ALL WOMEN ARE THE WOMAN OF HUMANITY.
So don't fucking come around here finger-wagging about how it's somehow the responsibility of men to eradicate sex-crimes against Women.
The stats read as such: 1 in 4 Women have been victims of sexual abuse.
I'd argue that 100% of Women have experienced sexual intimidation, like Kim K and the way she described how, while being robbed, she was mentally preparing herself to be raped. She wasn't raped by her robbers (not to say she's never survived rape), but she thought she would be. This is what I am arguing has happened to 100% of ALL WOMEN, because it's happened to me, and I didn't tell anyone about it, because I wasn't raped, but I was sexually intimidated by a man that I trusted for years.
I eventually told the bodybuddy/lifemate, not because I needed to get it off my chest, but because I realized that I'd never told anybody. It was certainly a traumatic moment, but I honestly didn't think it warranted a reaction to, like, destroy this man, but now, he absolutely acted against me in my worst interest, and now, I'm mulling whether or not to name him, explicitly.
I do not want to name him explicitly, because I have zero interest in ruining his life or anything, cause I do think that men are allowed to have less-than-savory thoughts, and since he didn't go through with it, I wasn't "harmed" so much as I learned a lot that day, for better and for worse.
Also, I don't want him to come after me, right? But ...
I absolutely want to name him explicitly, because I know how important it is to create a sort of "paper trail" about men who are terrible. If he made the move that he did against me, did he finally go through with it with another Woman? If he did, is it somehow my fault for not reporting him to the police? Are the police the people to whom I can report an event like this? Most police are men.
So, no, I wasn't robbed, and I have not survived sexual abuse.
I have, however, survived sexual intimidation, and yes, I feel 1,000% grateful that I have been surrounded by good men my whole life, and that yea, from my perspective, he's an outlier, but if every woman (half the world's human population) has experienced ONE OUTLIER, then he's not an outlier at all, he's rampant.
And here's what happened:
When I was nineteen, I was able to travel to Seoul for a foreign-language exchange program at a Korean university for international Korean adoptees. It was an amazing trip. I met a million people, and the entire program was sublime. And I met this guy, Mike, on this trip. He was mormon. He was a recruiter for Boeing. He traveled to college campuses all over the world to recruit for Boeing. I think that he was maybe in his mid-to-late twenties when we met. He was friendly to both me and a friend of mine and everyone around us. And we connected through fbook. He kept tabs on me, and over the course of the next few years, he'd message me to see if me and the friend were available cause he was going to be in Denver, Boulder, wherever I was at that time.
He, the friend and I all met up the first time in Denver together. He was in town visiting the University of Denver. We had a great time. He was respectful, fun, charming, you know, a classic, old-fashioned, blonde-haired, blue-eyed, all-american boy. The three of us met up a few times in the Denver area, cause he came through the area every year, cause well, Colorado has some really good science-focused schools, etc.
He messaged me another time when he was in Boulder, visiting the University of Colorado, and I was attending CU at the time. The friend was not available, cause she'd moved to Seoul by this point, and so I called my mom and asked her what she thought about me going out alone with this guy. My mom (the adopted one) was thrilled at the prospect that he was "mormon, blonde, and all-american," cause that meant that he was more conservative, a religious guy, which meant that, in my mom's mind, he was "good."
So I took him up on his offer to meet up for lunch. It wasn't a date in my mind. He was older. Just a friend. Some guy I met internationally. And that's really fucked up, Lady. I'd interacted with him about a dozen times in a public setting and about half a dozen times in more-private settings. I felt safe enough to grab lunch, in the middle of the day, in a town where people knew me, I was expected to show up places, my neighbors knew my car, etc., etc., &c.
I was safe.
We met at Whole Foods, cause I didn't want him to get the wrong impression by picking me up at my apartment, plus I lived alone, so I didn't really want anyone to know where I lived, in general. And that's all I remember until we were back in the Whole Foods parking lot, cause he was dropping me off after lunch.
I do not remember where we went to lunch.
I do not remember what we talked about.
I remember nothing about that day except what happened when he dropped me off.
I don't even remember driving/parking/waiting in the parking lot before we went to lunch, but I know that I must have driven there and parked, cause that's where the event happened.
We were sitting in his truck. He was driving. I was in the front seat.
He parked the truck.
He started to get kinda weepy or weird or something.
I couldn't put my finger on it.
He started wringing the steering wheel with his hands, and started saying stuff about how much he liked me.
I froze.
I felt like such an idiot for thinking that a man would want to spend time with me for any other reason than being with me, like all the way with me.
He started to look a little frustrated, so I made a move for the door to get out of the car.
He locked the door from his door.
I froze.
He started to pull out of the parking spot and drive away.
And all I remember thinking was, I'm going to die.
The next thing I remember was feeling the car stop at the stop sign at the end of the parking lot and hearing the door unlock, so I grabbed the handle as fast as I could, and I ran to my car.
I drove home, and told no one.
And that's all I remember.
I never even told the friend about him, because Women friends have been difficult for me to find. That friend of mine liked Mike. I've had negative opinions about guys that my friends are dating, and let's just say, it never goes over well. There's a 100% chance that that friend would have interpreted my telling on him as some sort of brag, that he like likes me, which means he doesn't like her, and there's a 100% chance that she would read this situation like a cunt instead of a Woman friend, cause I've known enough women to know that there are truly so few of us Women out there that these sexual predators keep getting away with shit, because Women do not believe each other.
When we (the bodybuddy/lifemate&i) were living in Longmont, Colorado, USA, we had moved there so that I could attend the Leadership Longmont program for entrepreneurs, etc., etc., etc. The program began in January 2020, so yea, it ended around the end of February, about three months early, lol. Anyway, during one of the first meetings, some idiot for a man was the opening speaker for the day, etc. He started off by setting up a metaphor about people's pain being stored in a file cabinet, that when you're younger, your file cabinet is empty, and as he did this, he pointed to the two high-school seniors, one young Woman, one boy (two of the best young minds in the area were invited to be part of this "adult" business thing), and used them as examples about how they don't have much in their file cabinets, cause they're young. The young woman's face contorted, as did mine, when this idiot of a man opened his mouth. I experienced my trauma at the age of three. My file cabinet was full to the brim before I even knew how to feed myself. So I raised my hand.
The idiot of a man was thrilled at my participation and called on me. I put my hand down and said, "You have no idea what sort of pain or trauma any person may have experienced, and it makes absolutely no sense that just because you're younger, you've experienced less trauma. Don't assume that they (motioning to the students) don't have as much pain as us just because they're young." He didn't know what to say, and he bumbled his way through the rest of his spiel, sweating, uncomfortable, unable to use the metaphor he'd so "brilliantly" crafted for his presentation, and it was hilarious.
At the end of the thing that day, the young woman high-school senior approached me. I was thrilled. She walked right up to me even though I could tell she was a bit shy and maybe a bit afraid. She looked at me teary eyed and said, "Thank you for sticking up for me." I smiled, put a hand on her shoulder and said, "I was sticking up for myself, but I'm so happy that my shield protected you, too," and I walked away. She never interacted with me again, directly, but we always smiled and nodded when we saw each other.
It doesn't matter to me if she never thinks of me again. What matters to me is that she was not alone that day in the eyes of that man. She had an ally, and that ally was me. Whether or not she looked weak in the eyes of that man no longer matters, because a Strong-Ass Woman is behind her. She is not alone in his eyes. He is not seeing her as one-to-one. He now knows that it is Two against his meager one. I wasn't standing up for her to see me. I was standing up for HIM to see me. And the message was clear, "BACK THE FUCK UP. She is not weak, and SHE IS NOT ALONE!"
And Elitist Cunts, like Anna Wintour, believe that only White women deserve Matriarchal protection, and some White women live to uphold the Patriarchy, like Ghislaine Maxwell, and they are the Enemy of Women, and so we also need to rid the world of these types of women.
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