the-spot.net

I was inspired by this post on reddit: http://www.reddit.com/r/AskReddit/comme ... tice_that/. What struck me is most of them were when the women were young and from severely inappropriate sources.

What is the first time you remember that someone noticed you sexually and how did it make you feel?

I can't say that I have an appropriate answer to the actual question - but I can say the first time I started to notice girls when hormones were involved was around Jr. High.

I had "girlfriends" from preschool (as early as I can remember) all up until Jr. High. I broke up with a girlfriend I got in sixth grade once we got half way through 7th. I never looked at her sexually, though. It wasn't until afterward that I started noticing some girls trying to flirt in a sexual way that it clicked. This was probably 8th grade or so, where they jokingly would flash a belly button or bra strap during their social commentary on how that was enough to get a fellow male student going.

As to how it made them feel, I don't know. All I remembered during all that time was that I wanted someone to hold hands and eat lunch with.

Typing on my phone while home sick yesterday made it hard to do a reply for this myself so it was delayed until today.

I'm notorious, even now, to when someone is observing me, however, a one major instance stands out to me:

I was at day camp run through the YMCA and so each day ended at the pool before we went home with our parents. The pool was shared between camp kids and open swim to the public. I was about 10 and I was alone for a moment when I came up from underwater to find myself cornered by two older boys (about 13-14 years old, I would guess). One asked if I wanted to go out with his friend, and I said no, before pushing past them to get out of the pool. I put my towel around me and headed for the changeroom. I was almost there when the same boy grabbed my arm and turned me around to demand to know why I said no. His friends (including my proposed "boyfriend to be") were behind me, blocking my access to the changeroom. I was smaller and alone. Terrified doesn't even begin to describe my feelings of panic enough. As they closed in, a life guard intervened, demanding that they take their hands off me and unblock my way. I thanked him profusely as I booked it into the changeroom, and the life guard (such an appropriate title) began to question the boys.

I had a few other minor ones, and one that is very fuzzy from when I was 4 about someone walking into my daycare and touching me in the bathroom, but we didn't discuss it as I was growing up for a variety of reasons so my memory of that experience is vague at best.

That took a turn for the worse there at the end...of both the proposition and your post. I was not expecting that.

I just remembered another example where I was in gr. 10, so I would have been around 14-15. I was sitting in my civics class which was down the hall from my third period English classroom. I saw my English teacher walking by and I called out to say good morning to him. Everyone liked him because he was a "cool" teacher. He would start classes with those word jumble puzzles where the letters were mixed up and then once you have the words sorted out you take some of the letters to solve the main puzzle question.

Anyways, on this occasion, I don't remember what was said initially but I had a high lighter in my hand and he made a comment about the fact I had something in my hand (that's the part I don't remember) and this happened:

• Me: "It's a high lighter!"
  Him: "Oh I couldn't see that"
  Me: "It's bright <yellow or orange, I can't remember>"
  Him: "Just like your panties!" and then he walked off down the hall.
  (which they weren't, because I was boring and only had bland, plain ones, not that ever saw them)

This conversation was had with him in the classroom doorway and me in the middle of the class at a desk, so it wasn't a quiet conversation as we half-shouted across a room. No one commented on it.

Another time in his class, one of the jumbles was about exotic dancing and tools of the trade. I was unlucky enough to have the answer first, which was often the case because I loved doing these puzzles at home.

• Me: The answer is "Bump and Grind"
  Him (in front of my whole class): "Of course, you'd know all about that." *smirk and a chuckle*

That's when I stopped answering the jumbles.

Neo wrote:That took a turn for the worse there at the end...of both the proposition and your post. I was not expecting that.

Well I made it out of the pool alright, thanks to the life guard. I was terrified though, for sure!

My parents were pissed about the daycare issue but my thought is that they reached some sort of agreement since I still attended daycare there for at least another year or maybe two. I think they figured I was too young to remember, or something, but I still can see it happening and wondering why it had. I did the right thing though and told an adult and my parents that someone touched my special place.

It sounds like you've been the victim of abuse and attempted abuse throughout your life. I don't know how a teacher could feel like that was an appropriate comment to make to an underage student...and how no other student would have called him on that.

Neo wrote:It sounds like you've been the victim of abuse and attempted abuse throughout your life. I don't know how a teacher could feel like that was an appropriate comment to make to an underage student...and how no other student would have called him on that.

He was the cool teacher, charismatic and cheerful, and he knew how to talk to us. It's a fine line in not treating your students as kids but also not treating them like equals/adults when they aren't, yet.

This whole thread just has me wondering about the children that we are hoping to foster/adopt and wonder what kinds of terrible things may have happened to them.

I took a moment to read through some of the comments on the Reddit page, and I guess I should have started there to get an understanding of where this was going. It's good that people are willing to share their experiences about it all - but it's terrible that there are so many experiences to share, and that they're all so similar.

Pam wrote:This whole thread just has me wondering about the children that we are hoping to foster/adopt and wonder what kinds of terrible things may have happened to them.

It's upsetting to be sure, but I think as parents, going in fully-informed about the possibilities will help with understanding the type of culture in which our children are being raised. It never helps to pretend it doesn't exist, as much as we wish it didn't. A couple of times, I saw people post to these threads as parents asking what they can do and I think a big part of it is making sure that children can speak to you about it. We say we're open for them to talk, but when you're suffering from trauma and mind games, it might seem next to impossible to open up to someone about that. For me, my father still does not know what I have gone through with my partners. My mother knows of only the first partner, but not the others, and only because she found medication given to me (that I never took) to treat my PTSD.

Neo wrote:I took a moment to read through some of the comments on the Reddit page, and I guess I should have started there to get an understanding of where this was going. It's good that people are willing to share their experiences about it all - but it's terrible that there are so many experiences to share, and that they're all so similar.

It's disappointingly terrible in the consistency of these stories. Notably, most happened around the pre-teen/early-teen stage which is disconcerting on so many levels. I was going for a short run yesterday along some major roads so I saw a significant amount of traffic pass me by as well as running past pedestrians and a few houses with people on their porches/patios. I recall distinctly getting catcalled and whistled at as I walked home from high school and elementary school, normally by males in cars driving by. I received not a single acknowledgement of that nature in the 45 minutes I was out in my form-fitting active wear. Part of me would like to think it's because we're getting better at not being sexist dicks. The reality-based me realizes that it's because I am "too old". I am not a pre-teen/early teen anymore. I have curves that belong to someone my age. I can't be mistaken for a pre-teen, pre-pubescent child.