(Trigger warning: this is about the idea of assault in all forms, especially sexual. Please read with caution, dears.)
I bought a knife today.
It's not the first time I've had to buy an item specifically for protection, but it's the first time I've considered having to fight for my dignity.
Plenty of other lifesaving tools lay around my apartment. For example, there's a chain lock you can put on your door that makes it challenging to get in. I shipped in a door-jammer thing not too long ago that is used for hotels and traveling. There are sprays and alarms and whistles that I have been gifted year after year.
But I've never bought a knife.
I guess when you buy tools that are meant to stop a problem before it begins, you forget just how deplorable the act of attacking someone for your own sexual satisfaction is.
I guess it doesn't always have to be sexual, huh? It could be for any number of reasons, but every time I've been beaten, it's always turned sexual.
And since I haven't found a way to reduce the size of my sex appeal, I assume it always will be.
I don't want to imagine what I may need that heavy knife for. My mind can't help make up terrifying scenarios though.
Will it be when I'm walking through my campus parking lot after an evening lecture?
Maybe when I have my hands full of groceries from a trip to the local store?
How about at a trusted friend's house when I take a quick nap during a study session?
In any case, why do I need to physically hurt someone to convince them to not use my body? Why do I need to rely on someone else to come to my rescue when I've been forced to the ground?
Why can't it be understood that I don't want to bleed for you to feel better?
I want to be able to enjoy the idea of sex. I don't want the first thing that comes to mind when I think about sex be a weapon or a forced nightmare.
Let me enjoy bliss as bliss rather than greed and stench.
Let me sleep in peace. Let me walk in peace. Let me smoke in peace. Let me work in peace. Let me spend money on things I actually want. And please...
Oh, heavens, please...
don't you dare put the blame on me.
