Many of you already know my stance on FEMINISM but no one knows exactly why I am such an Anti-Feminist afterall.

My upbringing has got a lot to do with my mentality, yes! The way I have been treated since childhood was never biased in a way that this thought could have ever sprouted in my mind. I mean there were some obvious differences between me and my brother but I always felt a human no less than him. Infact there were ample instances where I was favored on the basis of my sex and age as I was never to be lifted a finger upon, leave alone beating me up, even in a brother-sister fight! I was very lean back then and that contributed to that biasness as well. Infact since I was so loved by the people around me that all I faced in the family was an abundance of all the good things and nothing else.

Another contributing factor was my father who has always reminded me of the beautiful differences both the sexes have and how it needs to be cherished instead of being complained about. It was the difference that cultivated uniqueness and how the combination of both works wonders by covering up for each other’s flaws. Both needs each other for their mutual existence and both are poles apart, not only in the way one looks physically but also in the way they both carries themselves and behaves in a particular situation.  

However, practical experience teaches us way more than words can ever do that. There were never just talks without instances supporting equality in humans irrespective of their gender. But beyond family, there were a lot of lessons that life taught me. One such instance is about MOLESTATION!

The first time that I was raped, I was around 5 years old. Nothing very fancy, it was the age-old bad neighbor experience who used to do what was done. Time and again I used to express how much I disliked going to my neighbor’s place but every afternoon I was sent there to play a game noone knew about. Our neighbors were a family of 7 people, 5 of which were females, the father of the house, the mother, 4 daughters and a son! The father would come home all drunk every other night wanting to sleep with his eldest daughter and the 2 bigger girls would always come to our place to seek shelter and safety, being with us. When the father would be denied of his commands for lust, he would turn to his wife and beat her up. We did not know this back then as we were way too young to understand any of this but years later I heard these stories from my mother. I knew she was speaking the truth as I remember that the aunty would have these pattis around her head or hand or some other place on her body very often and that beautiful didi used to come home and cry for some reason.

So, we were in daily contact with this family for years before they moved out of the house. I still feel the cold shiver as if it was all done yesterday. The first time that I was kissed, I was asked if it felt salty? The first time that my clothes were opened by someone for wrong reasons, I remember that heat was used as an excuse to make me naked and climate was blamed for the sweat that poured out. The first time that the TV remote was forced into my vagina, I was told to be a ‘Strong Girl’, it was sort of a game in which I was supposed to take everything that happens to me without a word from my mouth (apparently this was to make me a strong woman). Day after day I became stronger with no knowledge of what was being done to me. It wasn’t the age for me to know what sex and molestation was, so I learned it the hard and practical way. I was told to never mention it to anyone as it was some secret school project which needed to be finished during the summer holidays. So apparently, I became the ‘Guinea Pig’ in his ‘Lust Laboratory’!

I used to be in pain all the time, whether I went to my neighbor’s or not, but as instructed, I kept quiet.

You know why this is about feminism and not about molestation?

It’s because my neighbor who did this to me was a GIRL! She must be around 10-15 years elder to me and for my family, she was just a girl next door, but only I knew how much I didn’t want to knock that door. I was 5 and just try to imagine your niece, your sister, your daughter or simply a child of that age and ask how much would she know about it? How much Should she know about it?

They left the house when I was around 7 and those 2 years made me a terrible person. Even now, every night I blame myself for going there and keeping my mouth shut, because I know my parents and they would not have told me to adjust or compromise or tolerate like some of the people of this society. But it never reached their ears and therefore it never stopped. Since a very early age I knew that the size or glitz of my clothes doesn’t matter to those who are already imagining me naked. But I still used to wear the longest skirt in my school (influenced by the society) coupled with knee high socks which resulted in absolutely no skin show. Did that help me avoid any future rapes or molestations? NO!

Women are terrible as well, not just men! Gender doesn’t make anyone bad, character and intentions do. So before coloring that signboard with FEMINISM written on it and bashing the whole sex and punishing them for something some of them have never even done, THINK!

Rapists & Molesters are bad people, really bad ones. They change your life forever. They scar you for life in such a way that it haunts you every night. But if we start labelling men to be bad, we’ll start something we never intended on starting and the men would start behaving like they are anyways labelled to be….

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