By Natasha Vianna, SSH Correspondent
A few nights ago, I went to a club to meet friends. After a guy friend had a few drinks, he walked over to dance with me. I was happy to dance with him. It was fun, until he decided to slap my ass. Immediately, my heart sank and I turned to him in anger and that moment of fun was ruined. I was embarrassed, offended, and upset.
When I told him to keep his hands off me, he laughed and told me he was “just dancing”. Here I was, in a situation where I had to not only teach this guy to keep his hands to himself (something we learn in the first grade) but I also had to define for him what is dancing and that slapping me did not fall in that category.
Why? Why am I left with this responsibility?
Trying to explain how disrespected I felt is something I can’t put into words. If I want to shake my ass, if I want to wear a tight dress, if I want to wiggle around to my favorite music, I should be able to do so without worrying whether some guy will have enough self-control to respect my body. Unfortunately, I do have to worry. I have to worry that if I’m having too much fun, I’m sending some creep the nonexistent signal.
Once upon a time, I was eager to turn 21 so I could go to clubs, bars, and lounges. Having drinks with friends in cool places was something I looked forward to, and when I imagined having cocktails in my little black dress, I couldn’t wait for a giggly girls-night-out.
After I turned 21, I learned that a girls-night-out at a club was never really just that. While I started off planning what I would wear and what color lipstick to put on, when my first club experience included lots of tugging on the arm, boners on my back, and strange men giving me pet nicknames, I quickly realized there was much more planning involved in a night out that I ever imagined.
In the beginning, I assumed this was just how men behaved. Was this the norm? As a young woman, was this just how we were supposed to be approached?
From their behavior, I learned that whenever I decide to wear a dress and heels, I am instantly telling male strangers that:
- I am here for your visual pleasure.
- I want my arm tugged on until I turn my head.
- I need new pet nicknames.
- I enjoy stiff boners rubbing against my back.
Gosh. It’s sad that I now have to prepare how I will maneuver through crowds of men or plan witty responses for new nicknames or discover how to remove the erection from my spine.
I’ve been out to clubs many times in the past few years and I’ve learned what does and doesn’t work. Sadly, some men won’t take no as an answer and attempt to aggressively persuade you into giving them a chance. I’ve discovered that making them feel awkward without offending them is the safest method for me to remove myself from these situations. Yes, safest. So I resort to pretending I know them from long ago or I do strange things that make them lose interest.
If guys would respectfully approach women, accept “NO” when they hear it, and never put their hands on us unless we allowed it, I would be able to enjoy my nights without paranoia. Since this still isn’t a universal understanding amongst men, I decided to speak out and share my stories.
Natasha Vianna, a fearless activist and young feminist, is a freelance writer and blogger based out of Boston, MA. Follow her on twitter!
