I was raped by a woman (and I’m a woman, too!) 

Once I googled “woman raped by a woman”, hoping to find stories similar to mine. However, I found just a pair of articles, nothing more. That’s also the reason why I decided to share my experience with you. When I was 14 I had troubles accepting my bisexuality because I didn’t want to be a lesbian. The term “lesbian” was unacceptable for me. I associated it to pain and fear.

But… Why? Well, when I was 7 something really bad happened to me. The daughter of one of my father’s friends was always really sweet to me. I think she was 15 or 16. I remember we played video games together, we made drawings. She hugged me most of the times. I was happy. I believed I had a friend, I trusted her. But one day…something changed. The first thing I remember is that she kissed me. I didn’t know what sex was. I didn’t know what love was. But I remember that I told myself: “If you don’t like someone and this person kisses you, you gotta push them away. That’s what they do in movies.” And I did it. Once, twice, three times, but she didn’t stop. At the end I just decided to do what she asked me to do. I touched her where she told me to touch. I closed my eyes as she told me to do. “Don’t tell mum and dad. This is our secret.” I knew it was wrong what we were doing. I remember that I found it disgusting. I stopped many times to cough or because I felt like I was going to throw up. But nothing changed, it just went worse. What happened to me shocked me. This rape is part of me now. I’m the result of everything that happens to me and this rape is part of it, whether I want it or not. For many years I believed that she did what she did because she was lesbian. That was all. I believed all lesbians were evil. When I discovered to be bisexual I told myself that I didn’t want to be like her, that I couldn’t like women, that it was wrong. Then I understood. I will never be her, because I do like women, that’s true, but I’m not a pedophile.

What shocked me the most about this whole story were people’s reactions. Some of them told me I invented it, that it can’t be true. Others made fun of me. They told me “yeah, you wanna play the victim now”. But I’m not a victim, I never felt I was. I’m a warrior, I’m a surviver and I’m proud of myself! The most disappointing reaction came from my parents. I remember that I was in the bathroom, crying a lot. When they asked me what was wrong I replied: “She kissed me.” What could I say? I was scared to tell the whole truth. And how could I tell them if I didn’t even know it was sex? They just laughed. My dad said something like: “Oh, doesn’t she have a boyfriend?” and my mum’s words were even worse: “You know, we can’t tell anything. She’s the daughter of your father’s friend…”

I don’t care now. I don’t care if people tell me that I invented it. I don’t care if you believe it’s a lie just because it’s not what it’s normally associated to the word “rape”. I just want to share my story because I know that there are somewhere people who experienced something similar. You’re NOT alone. You’re strong and I believe in you. Don’t be scared to tell the truth. I’m sure your voices will be heard.

[ITALIAN – La testimonianza di ciò che è accaduto]

Non mi ricordo molto, avevo sette anni e mezzo. La storia breve è che lei era la figlia di un amico di mio padre e, quello che credevo io, ovviamente, era che mi volesse solo molto bene. Insomma, penso che qualunque bambina che vede una persona che la tratta con dolcezza, ci gioca insieme e cavoli vari allora è ovvio che ci si affeziona. E niente. Premetto che io ho un fratello più grande e comunque quando andavamo da lei, in realtà i miei genitori andavano ovviamente a trovare i loro amici e lasciavano me e mio fratello con lei. Noi giocavamo sempre alla PlayStation, finché un bel giorno questa stramaledetta PlayStation si rompe ed inizia l’incubo…mio fratello era interessato unicamente alla Play quindi eravamo sempre io e lei sole mentre lui stava con i miei, di sotto. E nulla, ho ovviamente i ricordi molto vaghi. Mi ricordo la prima volta che lei si è avvicinata e mi ha baciata. Io sono rimasta interdetta, l’ho solo spinta..non sapevo un cavolo di niente, per me era semplicemente un “faccio quello che ho visto nelle serie tv”, ovvero che quando qualcuno non ti interessa lo respingi. Ma comunque lei ha continuato e mano mano le cose sono sempre più peggiorate. La maggior parte delle volte voleva stare lei sopra di me, altre volte mi costringeva a toccarla e io non capivo bene ovviamente che stavo facendo. E niente, le cose più brutte di questa storia sono state le reazioni della gente. Ai miei genitori, quell’estate ho raccontato semplicemente una volta in lacrime che lei mi avesse baciata. La loro reazione? “E non ce l’ha un ragazzo?” e poi una solita solfa sul “non dover dire nulla, perché è la figlia di un caro amico di tuo padre”. Nessuna domanda su che fosse successo di preciso, nulla. La cosa è stata liquidata in pochi secondi. Mi ha fatto malissimo ed ancora oggi mi sento malissimo se ci penso. In futuro ho provato a raccontare questa cosa. C’è chi si è dispiaciuto per me, c’è chi invece mi ha detto di essermi inventata tutto per attirare attenzioni, perché giustamente secondo loro dovevo avere una storia dolorosa alle spalle per risultare “interessante”. Ancora oggi ho paura ad aprirmi con le persone e questa cosa non l’ho più raccontata a nessuno (a parte la mia ex) da quando mi è stato accusato di inventarmi tutto. Sono stanca di passare per la vittima. Io non sono una vittima! Sono stata forte e ho superato tutto da sola. Nessuno mi ha difesa, nessuno ha cercato di aiutarmi. Quando ho scoperto di essere bisessuale, ho avuto tante difficoltà ad accettarmi soprattutto per questa cosa che mi è successa da piccola. Perché fino a quel momento pensavo che le lesbiche fossero persone cattive e che facessero cose sbagliate. Ho dovuto scindere omosessualità/bisessualità da pedofilia, ho dovuto capire che sono così perché sono così e non per quello che ho subito. Insomma, tante cose. E io ci tengo comunque a raccontare quello che mi è successo, perché non me ne vergogno. Avrei voluto solo sapere perché, perché fare un gesto simile a una bambina di 7 anni. Io l’ho rivista, la rivedo ogni volta che vado a votare. Inutile dire che non mi guarda neanche in faccia. E’ lei quella che si vergogna, non io. Io cammino a testa alta. Altre volte l’ho sognata. Una volta in particolare ho sognato chiaramente che la abbracciavo e che le dicevo di averla perdonata. Perché sì, io l’ho perdonata comunque e soprattutto, ho perdonato me stessa, per essere bisessuale ed essere quella che sono.

There’s too much confusion about the word “feminism”

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According to OxfordDictionaries.com, feminism is “The advocacy of women’s rights on the ground of the equality of the sexes.”

In its definition feminism contains the term “equality.”

As I said in another post,  it was at high school when I heard the word feminism for the first time.

As an Italian native speaker,  things get even more complicated since there are two terms to refer to sexism:”maschilismo” and” sessismo”. “Maschilismo” probably derives from “maschio”, which is male in Italian. In Italian it is a synonym for “sessismo”, that’s all.

However, some people believe that, since feminism derives from the word “femmina” (female),  feminism would be “superiority of women over men”. This is completely wrong in my opinion.

Some people propose “antisexism” as a neutral term, but I think there’s nothing to change. You can even call it “apple”, what matters is what is it about: equality.

Thanks to feminism I learned to fully accept myself and to be more tolerant to minorities in general. I wish everyone could know the benefits of feminism!

When I heard the word “feminism” for the first time

[This post may contain mistakes, because English.is not my first language]

Maybe you were wondering where I have been such a long time.

Well, my life is always full of changes and unexpected facts, so you shouldn’t worry if I don’t post for some months. I’ve not forgotten this blog and certainly I won’t.

Today I want to talk about something autobiographic, but in some ways related to feminism.

When did I hear the term “feminism” for the first time?

I was at high school. It was my 4th or 5th year, if I am not mistaken. My philosophy teacher said:

I believe in the equality between men and women. I’m a feminist.

I remember that I didn’t question the word “feminism.” Even if it was the first time I heard it, it was clear to me that it had a positive meaning. What surprised me was that a male pronounced it. I guess this may be related to the fact that, whether we want it or not, we are all affected by patriarchy.

Patriarchy, directly or indirectly, controls our minds. It doesn’t matter if you consider yourself a feminist or not. It is really likely that you experience the violence and the injustice of patriarchy, because our society is grounded in it.

Now I think differently. It doesn’t surprise me anymore when a man tell me he is a feminist, because I’ve become a feminist myself.

But, to be honest, does it matter if a person is male, woman or non-binary?

We are all people, that’s what it matters, and we should all fight against patriarchy!

And you? When did you hear the word “feminism” for the first time?

Leave a comment, if you want.

P.s. I will talk about my teacher in other posts. I know it may be a little bit personal, but he really had a big influence on me!