Getting REAL personal - CONSENT

Today I felt a huge URGE to make a video. It would be my first YouTube video that isn't my usual vlogs. My motivation came from a post I saw on my friend's Instagram story. What was the post about? Consent. Right now, I am writing out the layout of how I want to go through my story and what I want to share on Youtube.

Consent is a very personal topic for me. An incident happened to me in the first year of university. Since then, I have been afraid to talk about it. I wouldn't even talk to my parents about it. I still won't. I will explain why later. I was so ashamed about what happened to me and for a while, I thought it was my fault. This shame brought fear. I was afraid of getting into trouble for that incident. It took me a long time to realize, that I was the victim and that it was NOT my fault.

In this blog, I want to talk about consent and why it has been so difficult for me to open up about it.

Here is a little (long, I apologize) background on what it is like for me growing up as a first-generation Canadian-Filipino...

I grew up in an Asian family. My parents do not raise their children the exact same way that their parents raised them. However, there was still a strong value of old school traditions and beliefs present in my upbringing. Even now, there are old traditions that I struggle to accept. I was raised Catholic and went through the Catholic school system. Growing up, there were a lot of topics that were difficult or taboo to talk about. Here is a list of taboo topics in my childhood and pre-secondary school years: inter-racial/inter-ethnic marriages, anything outside of the Church's beliefs, sex, and homosexuality (or anything associated with the LGBTQ+). This isn't an exhaustive list, but it provides an idea of what I was not exposed to or taught about growing up.

Now, I am the only girl out of my parents five children. I am also the oldest. I have a huge responsibility of being a role model for my brothers. I also have that discreet responsibility (or expectation) of being the "perfect" child. What was the definition of "perfect"? Think old school. Real old school. The smartest, most responsible, flawless, obedient, and almost submissive child. I am grateful that my mom is more lenient and modern, but my dad is definitely more traditional. I accepted that it was just my parents and I being born in different generations, and raised in different countries. I was exposed to a different society than the one my parents grew up in.

Relationships and boys were frightening topics to me because of my dad. Everyone knows the stereotype of Asian dads. The fear of getting into trouble for even liking a guy scared the hell out of me. Parties and clubbing were also pretty taboo growing up. My parents rather have me focus on school, family, and martial arts training. I didn't mind, I really didn't. I mean, I did have the fear of missing out. But I was really young back then. I had the mindset that I can go out partying and clubbing when I am older.

Do not get me wrong. My parents raised my brothers and me to the best of their ability. I understand that their priority is to provide their children with the best opportunities in life and to protect them from harm. I just want to provide context on why it was so difficult for me to open up about consent. Consent can be associated with being in a relationship, or going on dates; which were some of the things I am afraid of my parents finding out.

So what happened?

In my first year, there was a dance night happening for the off-campus kids and residence kids. I went with a close friend from high school. There was a guy who offered to dance with me. I met this guy from an off-campus event that happened prior to frosh week and he helped my friend get rid of a guy that was bugging her. So I said yes, I mean, he looked out for my friend after all. After dancing for a little bit, he tried to kiss me. Multiple times. He pushed his junk against me, making it obvious that he has an erection. I knew that it was time to leave and I tried to leave. But, this guy kept pulling me back to him and trying to kiss me.

Why not just say no?

Uh, yeah. That is exactly what I did. Multiple times. I probably said "No, I don't want to do that." or "I want to leave." at least 50 times. This guy would not let me go no matter what I said or did, and he kept pushing himself against me. Every time I pull away, or try to walk or run away, he grabs me. He pulled me back. He said he was having fun and asked, "Aren't you having fun though?" I felt wrong, disgusted, violated, and undignified. Finally, after PERSISTENTLY saying no, he let me go.

What happened afterwards?

I texted my high-school friend that I went with, and explained to her what happened with the guy. I will NEVER forget her response that night. The response that made me lose all respect and trust for her was, "You know he was drunk, right?". Then she texted me that she was going out with a guy that she met from frosh week. I have never felt more alone and betrayed. At night. I cried all the way to the student center.

I went to the student center and started crying to one of the off-campus student representatives. I knew her from that off-campus event that happened prior to frosh week. She was so kind and supportive. I didn't even ask her, but she gave me one of the extra frosh week t-shirts to change into. It was one of the most touching moments for me. Just changing out of the clothes I was wearing took a huge load off my shoulders. Then, she helped me contact a sexual assault hotline to talk about what happened. I felt like I couldn't talk to my parents, because I would get in trouble for putting myself in that situation. So it was so nice talking to an adult over the phone without being blamed for what happened.

Maybe it was just the clothes you were wearing.

Oh yeah. Definitely. You know, a t-shirt and a pair of jean shorts. Also, want to know what my body was like back before freshman 15 hit me? *cough* More like freshman 30 *cough* I weighed 95 lbs back then. I was skinny and also flat-chested. Still flat-chested. No mid-riff was showing that night either. There were other girls dressed like me in that gym. There were also other girls dressed in more revealing outfits but were having a good time. I was not. No shade. I am just saying that what I wore did not matter.

It is sad that the victims are often to blame. Just recently, when I was going on a trip, I was told by someone dear to me, "Be careful of what you girls wear. Be careful of how you girls behave." Again, that person was probably speaking out of good intentions. However, the statement emphasizes that it would be our fault for unintentionally attracting men with ulterior motives. That it does not matter what the assaulter or harasser does, because it is the victims' fault. The anger I felt inside could probably predispose me to chronic hypertension.

You mentioned you did martial arts, why didn't you just protect yourself?

Ah, probably one of the big reasons why I did not tell my parents. The answer is simple, for me at least... I was in shock. I blanked out. I have been doing martial arts in the gym my entire life, I never had to use it in real life. Think of it like nursing school, or any profession with hands-on application. You may master doing needle injections on a mannequin, but you become afraid and completely blank out when you are about to inject a patient in the hospital. That is what it was like for me.

In fact, the rep I went to said that she went through a similar experience. She also knew a form of martial arts and she blanked out. To know that I was not the only one feeling this way, and to have someone understand me, took away a lot of the shame I felt.

The takeaway cooking lesson (aka life lesson) from this experience...

Listen. I know, that in comparison to other traumatic situations that other people experienced, I am fortunate. I was able to get out of that situation, I was able to leave. Unfortunately, there are victims and survivors out there who were unable to escape. It is absolutely sad and heartbreaking that saying "no" is not enough. Knowing this, I know what happened to me. I was sexually assaulted or sexually harassed. Those feelings I felt are valid. They were real. They still are. That night could have gone in another direction, a worse one. For anyone else out there, going through what I went through, or had gone through what I went through, YOU ARE VALID. For anyone who has gone through worse than me, my heart aches for you. YOU ARE VALID.

I cannot stress enough how important consent is, and how important it is to say no. I never knew how difficult it can be for some people to say no. I have so many friends, both guys and girls, who are in uncomfortable dating situations. When it even comes to holding hands or being invited to someone's place, they go with it because they say they feel bad. That they do not want to hurt the other person's feelings. If something makes you feel uncomfortable, unsafe, wrong, violated, disgusting, or even dangerous, you can and should say no! Say no. Say no. Say no. You do not have to endure or struggle through something that you do not want to do. Never! In situations like this, it does not matter if saying no makes the other person feel bad, your safety and health come first. Because by allowing even small gestures that make you uncomfortable to happen, the situation develops into a direction that you do not want to go to.

I am scared of getting into trouble for posting this, but I want to share my story. I want to share what I learned and pass that on to other people who may be in my situation. I want young teens and adults who were raised in a similar upbringing to mine, to know that they are not alone. If any of you guys know someone who needs to read this, let them know that this potato here understands. The fear of getting into trouble is nothing compared to my desire to reach out to others who need someone or at least have someone understand them. That is why I am writing this blog and why I will share my story on YouTube.

Writing out the layout for my new YouTube video. I am more excited that I am doing something to reach out to others in my shoes, than being afraid of getting into trouble.

***DISCLAIMER***

I know that sexual harassment, sexual violence, and sexual assault have a variety of definitions. I realized this while I was trying to find a definition. In my YouTube video, I will be using the term "sexual assault" as a reference of unwanted or non-consented sexual acts, with or without penetration.

Here is a great link that to quickly learn and understand sexual violence:

https://www.ontario.ca/page/lets-stop-sexual-harassment-and-violence

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