Editor's note: Tara Weaver posted this essay on her personal Facebook page after the second presidential debate, when Donald Trump said that his talk of sexual assault was merely locker room banter. More than 4, people shared this story, and hundreds commented with their own devastating stories in the comments. Listen Listening He lifted me up by my armpits, sat me on the kitchen counter, leaned over me and slid his tongue into my mouth.
Let me tell you an everyday story about one of the many things that can happen when girls are taught to hate themselves. When I was 13, a man took me up to his apartment while his wife was out, gave me Pernod to drink and tried to manipulate me into giving him physical affection. I worked for this man in the shop he ran below the apartment, and I had agreed to go upstairs with him after weeks of what can only have been careful grooming on his part, following a sustained effort on my part to achieve what I thought was the ideal body size. I actually felt flattered and grateful that he thought I was attractive.
The young man looked her over, amusement tugging at his lips. Indeed, he was only twice her age. He bent over, resting his palms on his knees to bring himself to her eye level. From then on she came every day, shy to knock on the door but with eagerness dancing in her eyes. They soon had a ritual of sorts between them.
Here's something I don't talk about very often; I'm a survivor of some pretty fucked up cyber sexual relations. The story? I was 14 when I bought my first laptop with my own money.