The Audacity

My partner and I pretty much talk about everything. Or, I should say, I talk about everything and he listens and makes comments here and there. The other day we were talking about male culture and historically, the role of the patriarchy. We started telling stories and I had this epiphany.

Growing up I was very close to my brother and there weren’t many girls in my neighbourhood, save one (love you, Lacy!). So, I grew up around boys. I played with the boys in the neighbourhood and gravitated towards boys at school. In high school my two best friends were boys and I was pretty much treated like “one of the boys” until I graduated from high school.

At 18, I moved to Iceland and quickly fell into club culture. My friends and I would go out and I loved every minute of it. I grew up very sheltered and going dancing and being flirted with was new for me. The boys I grew up with, for the most part, were respectful of my personal space and also knew I had no issues with setting a boundary. The men in Iceland, for the most part, kept their distance. They (not to generalize too much) stayed away unless a few beers were in their system.

About 6 months into my year in Iceland some other exchange students and I went out to a club in downtown Reykjavik. I really shouldn’t say club, more like a bar with a small dance floor. There was about three or four of us dancing together enjoying the music and a slight buzz. Two young men were standing very close watching us move around the dance floor. One of them moved closer and slapped my ass. I stopped dancing and looked at him with a “please stop” look. I moved away and he came closer and did it again. This time I said, “stop” very politely and moved away. The third time he came very close, grabbed my ass, and started laughing along with his friend while holding my body.

I turned around and not only punched him in the balls, but with my open hand took a handful of his crotch and squeezed as tight as I could. “I SAID STOP! STOP TOUCHING ME!” I said, wiping the smile off his face. My friends mouths dropped to the floor and the man looked at me surprised, while his friend took a step back. I let go after a second, turned around, and walked back to my friends on the dance floor. “I can’t believe you just did that,” one of the girls shouted. “He deserved it,” another one said. We didn’t stay much longer in the bar, but the men left us alone and thankfully didn’t follow us as we moved on to the next place.

I WAS 18! As I told my husband this story he was only a little surprised. He, of course, agreed the man got what he deserved. But, where did I get the audacity? I could have just smiled and walked away, which is what we normally did. A humiliated man is a dangerous one, especially back then. The fact those men didn’t get angry, well, I was lucky. That wasn’t the last time I had no problem protecting/setting a boundary with scary men. Unfortunately, I didn't always get away so easily.

Growing up I had no problem playing rough with the boys, so maybe I knew I could take a hit? Maybe at the time I unconsciously understood my privilege as a tall white female and thought I could just get away with it? I was raised by many opinionated, strong, and no bullshit women, so maybe that’s it? It’s everything. It’s all those things and more because nobody is just one element of their surroundings.

This conversation about men and their attitudes towards women has been a constant conversation between my husband and I for the past several years. With the abortion bans, disparities in pay, women taking the brunt of the burden of the pandemic and war, and now the protests in Iran, it’s a conversation everyone needs to have. I tear up with pride seeing those women fight for their rights (with the threat of losing their lives), for their ability to live freely without any constraints over their bodies and their freedoms. It’s what I want for my son and daughter! Unafraid to stand up against men and women who think women are property, inhuman, without choice.

All the times I’ve set boundaries, have fought for my place in the world, I have no regrets. I’ve heard all the things men have to say. I’ve experienced the fragility of men over and over again. There was a time when I used to enable it, but now it’s just sad. It’s not my or any woman’s responsibility to caudal or protect the patriarchy. We’re seeing a revolution that has been brewing for years. A REVOLUTION! Those of us who are lucky enough to be safe have this opportunity to lift up the voices of others. It’s more than time to encourage the boys and men in our lives to take a stand against a system that serves them.

Above all, I want little girls and boys to see they are amazing all on their own! I want them to know it’s okay to be strong/fragile without the threat of someone breaking them down. I could have listened to them, the men and women who wanted me to be weak and silent. Teased for being weird, the girl with muscles, the scary one. When I was little I hated it. In high school all I wanted was a boyfriend. But eventually I grew to appreciate and love myself. I found men that appreciated my strength and my need to be independent. I found men who appreciated my body and its strength. I found men who appreciated my constant need to speak about everything on my mind. I never let them strip me of my intelligence and strength. I was fortunate to live in a country where I was free to be me.

I stand with all the women in the world who have the audacity! I stand with the women in Iran, Ukraine, Russia, Syria, Yemen, Mexico, and all the women who are fighting for their lives and the lives of their families due to men and their pissing contests.

Now’s not the time to be indifferent.

Now’s not the time to hide behind social media.

It’s time to do everything, because more badness is on it’s way and strength is all we have!

Be strong!