Like many others, I’ve been glued to the screen reading #YesAllWomen stories, for it gives validity to the daily fear we all experience. The aim of the hashtag was to let our male counterparts understand the culture of harassment, so they can do their part to stop it. I hope that is happening.
We, as women, can do our part as well. But more on that in a moment. Here are two of my #YesAllWomen stories:
As I stood up on the semi-crowded subway a few moments before we entered the station where I was to make a transfer, a man cornered me. He stood just inches away, trapping me between himself and the door. For the longest minute and half of my life, he went into graphic detail about the fantasy he was going to have about me when he went home, rolled a joint, and jerked off. He leaned his head forward as he whispered how he was going to be looking into my green eyes while he rubbed his dick. I looked away and realized no one on the train even noticed it was happening. The doors finally opened and I ran to the other train. Not even the one I needed, just the first one with open doors. I quickly ran down three other cars to be as far away as I could. I didn’t hear him exit behind me, but when I looked out the window of the new train car I was on, HIS FACE WAS RIGHT OUTSIDE THE WINDOW, smirking at me. It was like a fucking horror film.
I went on a few dates with a guy. I enjoyed his company but I could tell by date 3 that I didn’t want an intimate relationship with him. After a couple drinks one night I told him this. I was very kind, informing him that though he is very attractive I just don’t think we had that kind of chemistry, and I hoped we’d continue a good platonic friendship. He kept touching me the whole time, which was weird but I let it go. When I was finished, he sighed “Ok, fine. We can be friends. But will you do 2 things for me?” “Ok, sure.” “First, set me up with your hot actress girlsfriends.” I just stared at him and groaned on the inside. “I’ll see what I can do.” “Second thing, so I’ve got this fantasy. We’re moving to a new office and our current office has this room that only I have the key to and I really wanna have sex in there. Will you fuck me there one night after everyone else has left?” Beat. “WHAT THE HELL DID I JUST TELL YOU? I don’t want to have sex with you.” “C'mon, just one time! Not even ONE TIME?” I’ve never felt combination of rage and confusion I was experiencing in this moment. He grabbed his drink and sneered, angry. I still don’t not know if he’s an asshole or an idiot. A blend of both, perhaps. I felt so insulted, I handed my drink back to the bartender, stormed out, then kicked over my nightstand when I got home. I called my friends, some male friends, asking “Do I give the impression I’m some kind of woman for hire? That I give sex as favors? I don’t understand what just happened to me.” They all insisted I cannot blame myself for this. And it took awhile before I believed them.
So those are two very different expressions of male entitlement. Both spring from the culture of men believing that if they want us, they get to have us. Sometimes it’s just uncomfortable, sometimes it’s dangerous, and last week it became deadly.
Even though women have done nothing to deserve the kind of treatment we’ve all been posting about, and to put a stop to it men must stand in our corner and tell their friends and brothers and sons that this behavior is not ok, there is also something women need to do as well: we need to talk about female entitlement.
The type of male entitlement seen in American culture stems from our storytelling. In films, tv, literature and video games. That the boy will one day get his princess. I see a non-abusive expression of this mindset in several of my male artist friends: adult men who’ve never been in a real relationship because they believe that Amy Adams is going come pirouetting through their window with sparklers on her tits and tray full of brownies, give him a blowjob, and live happily ever after. I’ll admit this immaturity at times makes me angry and frustrated. But, for every one of these men, there is a female who believes Michael Fassbender is going to leap through her door with an erection and a sword, kill a spider, build her some shelves, listen to her talk about feelings for 4 hours and live happily ever after. Because storytelling has made women feel entitled as well: that if we just do x, y, and z, “that guy” will appear. And he’ll be perfect. Obviously, it’s not going to happen like that.
Both the men and women who walk around with this mindset, navigating the dating world with an iron-clad armor of entitlement are causing resentment and anger from the other side, creating a war-like atmosphere that has given rise to “seduction websites” and books like “the game.” I don’t want to sound like I’m throwing my gender under the bus, but ladies, I think we have played a part in this. Only because some of us have bought into the Prince Charming narrative, and will stand for nothing less than a story-book romance no man can live up to.
I hope I don’t get lambasted for this. Again, I’m not suggesting that women have deserved harassment, or that we are at fault for last weeks murder spree. I’m only positing that perhaps we take a look at our own, fairly complex, entitlement issues. It could make everyone a bit more real, a bit more human, and give way to a bit less anger. Assholes like the ones I described above are not created by us women, but by a culture we may be inadvertently supporting.
(I’m fully aware I may be talking out of my ass here. I’m just trying, like everyone else, to make sense of it all.)
