Excuse me for the short and undetailed account, I barely remember it, yet it is an eerily clear memory at the same time. I was prepubescent, a period when you barely know right from wrong. I was at my friend's place, watching TV while I waited for her to come out of the shower or finish her lesson or something along these lines. In the house were her grandparents and mom.
As I was in her room, her grandfather entered the room and proceeded to kiss me on my lips and grab my boob or whatever flesh is available at that age. I just remember hoping he would stop and acting as if he wasn't there, concentrating on the TV because I didn't understand what was happening. I tried to avoid going to my friend's house after that.
One fine day, to my dismay, she had her birthday party. While dancing with my friends I felt someone's hand graze my butt. I froze and looked back and saw him. The funny part is, I remember desperately hoping nobody saw it, scared of being embarrassed. I look back at it now with no emotion whatsoever.
The reason I've not given my name is because I don't want sympathy, especially not from strangers. My sole purpose is to let the readers know that no one should have to face this. Feminism is a word that evokes rage among so many men and women, but are we crediting it to the incidences and ideas it is actually intended for or are we discarding it, saying we don't need it because we personally haven't experienced the same thing?