My previous thirty years

It’s been almost 5 years since I’ve been reviewing the life that I lived in the previous thirty years and what happened in my life, how systemic those events were, and how much they affected and continue to affect my current life. In general, the topic of sexual violence occupies a very important place in the revision process, because it is a more closed topic, the society keeps its existence by being silent about it, hiding it, that’s why I consider it important that the things that happened to me, even if only to me, are raised. I feel that they encourage others to open up as well, besides, every time they happen in my life, they create patterned, stressful situations, which are renewed again and again and have a negative effect on my life. When I tell them, every time they come out of me, and are relieved because we are taught from a young age that we should be quiet, not live hard, take things easy, or not react sharply. For example, when something happens and we want to cry, everyone starts to calm us down, to reassure us to stop crying, but actually crying or even laughing is one of the ways to relieve them, and when that opportunity is taken away from us, we don’t have the chance. to relive the past and put it aside. I can say the same about what happened to me, since I was not given the opportunity to relive them, now I constantly talk about them, telling stories, creating an opportunity for myself in different ways, so to speak, to pour out that accumulated charge from me, that it won’t be harmful to me either.

It is very important to note that I am thirty-six years old, and over the years, these incidents have happened constantly at different ages and we have often shared it with my friends. I have understood that this happens regularly, especially with all girls.

There was an old man who rented us a house, and he used to walk in the yard of his own house in short shorts, where we also lived, and once he came and sat on the bench under our window, near which I was playing, and when I looked up, I noticed, that his penis came out from under his shorts and he started touching his penis and called me to sit on his lap, but I felt that this is not something that people usually do, and I had a gut feeling that something shouldn’t be happening, but I also couldn’t tell about it. At that moment I ran home and was restless and lost. I understood inside that that person did something that he shouldn’t have done, that people usually don’t do such things, but I also didn’t understand what it was, why he was doing it, what it was for, what it was aimed at, and I also didn’t have words to talk about it and I didn’t understand how I can tell about it now, with what words I should present it, and will I be understood what I want to say?
I didn’t tell anyone about it, I just tried to avoid that person after that, even though we lived in the same yard.

It’s not that I’ve put myself under restrictions, I just have a feeling of incompetence at some point and I’m thinking, what should we all do so that these cases don’t happen, so that girls don’t go through this…