How I "Get It"

(For a backstory on why I'm writing this, see here.)

I'm not small in stature. I stand around six foot two in my bare feet, and weigh nearly two hundred pounds in less clothes than I'd be comfortable describing. However, I think I have some idea of the concerns voiced by the women on several blogs that I frequently visit.

It started in elementary school. The combination of a small frame and a short height made me a target of those sought power over those weaker than them. It didn't help matters that I did very well in math and science, and wore glasses. During trips to the restroom I had a mental stopwatch that told me how long I had before someone else came in, if there was no one in the hallway before I entered. However, even in the classroom I wasn't safe if the teacher had to leave the room for some reason. I did have some I could depend on for protection, but if they weren't around I was a target.


This went on for years. To my recollection, I spent the better part of five years constantly aware of how vulnerable and weak I was compared to many others in my school.

My first two years of high school was a nightmare. The high school I attended held the eighth through twelfth grade students. At five feet tall, and not even a hundred pounds, I was considered a target from day one. I had to deal with, which primarily meant avoid, all of the stereotypical bullies. The first month of school was spent figuring out which ones I could trust, which ones would provide protection, and which ones to avoid at all cost.

However, in the late ninth and early tenth grades things started to change. I got taller. I was still thin, but a great deal of physical activity gave me enough muscle tone for it to be noticable. Things got easier. It didn't become a cakewalk, because I still had to be aware of the ratio of those who didn't like me compared to me. If only one came into the bathroom I no longer flinched and started trying to figure out how to get by them and to the door, though.

Eventually, I made it through high school, and went on to college. There I found a group of people who were more concerned with what education could do with their future than intimidating and bullying those weaker then them. Granted, even there I found one instance of someone bullying another. It's one of my proudest moments when I told the one doing the bullying to not do that... ever again, in no uncertain terms.

Even though that time of weakness and vulnerability was over twenty years ago, I can still vividly recall it. Constantly checking my surroudings to see if I have allies or failing that at least an absence of enemies, having to juggle the joy of learning with the dread of bullying, and most of all -and this is really important- knowing that no one other than those previously mentioned allies will help me.

I grew up in a small rural community, so the advice and help I got for dealing with it was, "Stand up to them." To my credit, I figured out avoidance was a much better way to deal with it, but only after getting my ass thoroughly kicked twice.

All of that still effects how I view the interactions of those around me, and perhaps that's how I "get it". Those experiences only make up an eighth of my life so far, but most women have to deal with that their entire lives. Even worse, the only threat I faced was being beaten. I didn't feel threatened with the violations that they have to be concerned about from the time they're made aware of it until they die.

So to all of the women who have pointed out how the actions of others have been wrong, I support you. More than that, I sympathize with you. I'll be the ally to you that I had during those years to give me those moments of peace. At least, until we get the jackasses that don't "get it" to come around.

I guess that means I'll be your ally for a very long time.

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