I, Too, Deserve Protection

I’m almost 30 years old and can only count five occasions where I felt protected by the people in my life. Going through puberty really changed my perception of the world. I was forced into developing a womanhood mentality to protect myself from pedophiles, boys struggling with their newfound sexuality and the lack of protection of authorities around me.

It all started in 5th grade with my first cat call. My breast began developing and simultaneously the lewd comments from men, of all races, towards me started. I was sitting at a bus stop waiting for Bus 11 to head over to the local library to check out some books. You 90s babies remember those days where we were able to travel away from home alone without the fear of being abducted. Awe man, those were the days. A car of older Latin men made loud kissing noises while slowing down and lowering their car windows. If that wasn’t enough, they made a U-turn on a busy street to park on the grass next to the bus stop and attempt to come speak to me. Need I remind you, I was in the 5th grade, about 5’ 5” with a size A bra size.

The boys my age didn’t really help much either. They would touch my behind, breasts and even my vagina while walking down the school hallways between classes. One of my male classmates even stalked me. On two separate days, he attempted to trail me on my walk back home. To tire him out and to ensure he didn’t know where I lived, I walked over to the local library and then to the police station adding 90 minutes to my commute. Other things, which I will not name here, happened during middle school that added to my need to shield myself from male attention. So to further protect myself, I developed the tough, tomboy, sweet yet man-beater persona. My nickname became Killa Kim to the boys who I punched when they attempted to invade my privacy.

I made my middle school’s varsity volleyball team as a sixth grader and fell in love with the sport. I totally appreciated our uniforms. Our tops were loose jerseys and bottoms boy’s basketball-like shorts. When I entered high school, I tried out and made the varsity Volleyball team but quit once I saw the uniforms. They were extremely tight, barely covered my skin and revealed every single dip and curve in my body. I’ve been so traumatized by the attention and physical experiences that followed that I didn’t want my body, my thick thighs, pronounced vagina print and breast to be on display. I wanted to be safe during my high school years and made the decision to quit Volleyball altogether. My high school days were the best days of my life… I didn’t experience any further unwanted physical contact again until college.

By the time my freshmen year ended, I'd been invited to every Greek foam or pool party. I’ve never attended them because the men who invited me always made comments on my body being “a wonderful spectacle to behold”. So, I relegated all my college activities to Christian ones to further protect myself from male-attention. See, I didn’t get much protection from the men in my life. When I was 23, my older male cousin (who I will not name) told me I should consider becoming a video vixen. My brother and father were there but weren’t really involved in my life. We didn’t speak about anything deeper than the superficial and they were like strangers to me up until recently. Being around my cousins and going to their house parties didn’t help either. Older men, even when I was a teenager, were sexually suggestive towards me and their friends, my male and female relatives, did nothing.

So I am writing this account to share the history that contributed to the walls of protection I have built consciously and subconsciously to avoid further dehumanizing sexualization. I’m grateful for the respite I receive around a handful of men in my life now. Sometimes I want to let my guard down and live. But until I have a man in my life that will look out for me, the onus is all on me. I do look at my sister-friends of other races and am so happy they aren’t double burdened with this weight. But as a Black woman, society, my family and even the church has showed me that I have no choice but to be "wise" all the time and hypervigilant in ALL spaces to be considered a worthy innocent. I hope to work on removing these thick walls of protection more in the future. But before I or anyone can, we have to know why they were built in the first place. At this moment, my only place of rest is my home and that is why I DO NOT ALLOW JUST ANYONE TO ENTER IT.

In honor of Meg the Stallion, Breonna Taylor, Atatianna Jefferson, Recy Taylor, Cyntoia Brown, and too many other sisters and ancestors who weren't protected. Humanity has made our plight invisible.