I'm not afraid to tell real stories. "I'm not afraid to say" - frankly about the violence experienced. What can be called trauma in the general sense
The flash mob #I'm Not Afraid to Say is actively discussed on social networks, which prompted many women to speak for the first time about the sexual harassment they experienced in different ages. All of them share their stories of helplessness and shame in order to stand up to sexual abuse and support other girls who cannot seek help, withdrawing into themselves after a nightmare.
When we read articles about rapists and their victims, we involuntarily twitch with horror and disgust, and the compassionate thought “what a horror” flashes through our heads. After all, everyone is well aware that it is extremely difficult to get rid of the physical and moral injury caused by sexual violence, and even more difficult to admit it to other people. But have we thought about the fact that every woman, alas, at least once was a victim of sexual harassment, which humiliated her and made her feel "dirty" and "wrong"? Unfortunately, this is not a controversial issue, but a statement of the fact that girls, starting from a very young age, experience unhealthy attention from the opposite sex.
And this is not about innocent flirting, dating or natural sexual attraction. And about the fact that without the permission of a person they make him a sexual object and allow themselves to be touched and grossly harassed. Moreover, this happens due to the fact that a woman of any age, often also a minor, for many is just a moving object that provokes the thought of sex.
The fact that this is wrong should not only be said, but also shouted to the whole world. Therefore, a Ukrainian flash mob appeared on social networks with the hashtag #I'm Not Afraid to Tell, in which women write frank posts with confessions about what kind of sexual harassment they have experienced in their lives. Such a bold and important movement against violence was started by Anastasia Melnichenko, who told several stories from her life. She was the first to admit that the girl has been experiencing dirty and unpleasant actions in her direction since the age of 6. And at a conscious age, she can become the object of blackmail, which rests on shame.
“I'm not afraid to say. And I don't feel guilty.
I am 6-12 years old. A relative is visiting us. He loves to put me on my knees. At some point, when I was already a teenager, he wants to kiss me on the lips. I get angry and run. They call me "ignoramus".
I am 13 years old. I walk along Khreshchatyk, carrying home a bag of groceries in each hand. I pass the segment from the KSCA to the Central Department Store. Soon my home. Suddenly, my uncle, who is walking towards me, abruptly changes the trajectory of movement and grabs me between my legs with acceleration. He grabs so hard he lifts me up on his arm. I'm so shocked I just don't know how to react. Uncle releases me and walks quietly on.
I'm 21. I broke up with a psychopath (real, clinical), but I forgot my grandfather's embroidered shirt at his house, which I called out to him. I go to his house. He twists me, undresses me by force and ties me to the bed. No, it doesn't rape. "Just" hurts physically. I feel powerless from the fact that I can not influence the situation in any way. He takes pictures of me naked and threatens to post pictures on the Internet.
For a long time I am afraid to talk about what he did to me, because I am afraid of photos on the Internet. And I'm afraid because I'm very shy of my body (it's funny to remember now)."
We publish a few more stories shared by girls on the web. All of them did not do this anonymously, but out of respect we will not write names and post their photos:
#I'm Not AfraidTo say, although I'm actually afraid, but that's enough. I don't know what's next, but in the end I never know.
I am 8. I am returning home from school, I call the elevator, at the last moment a boy, perhaps 25 years old, enters the elevator. Under the pretext of some kind of imaginary check that was supposed to take place at school, he takes me in the elevator to the top floor of the house, where we lived, then dragged to the attic and raped there.
Physics teacher, 10th grade. Basement (he also taught labor lessons there). He called to retake the laboratory ... When I was about to leave, I began to make jokes, such as “it’s a pity that I was born much earlier, otherwise we could ...”, and suddenly this - and we can now ... I fell into a stupor, could not move from horror. He started talking about “I would help you with physics” and reached for the fastener on my clothes. And here, in horror, I came out of a stupor, rushed out of the basement. She ran away, he did not catch up. I told about it to everyone I could - classmates, class teacher. But in the villages they do not like to raise a scandal. Then they just sympathized with me and said that I was not the first.
Neighbor showing off his dick, and I'm 4 years old, and I climbed on the window and, out of fear, closed the curtains to hide.
A man who ran into the entrance after me, a second grader, and grabbed between my legs, endless exhibitionist demonstrators in the entrances, a surgeon who was supposed to examine the injured coccyx, but apparently decided to play gynecologist and examined vaginally, with hands without gloves, without a nurse, 15 minutes ... An old moron who tried to rape me all night in a train compartment, another compartment neighbor who climbed onto my shelf at night and tried to climb into all places, a friend whom I knew for many years and with whom I completely trustingly stayed overnight after the party and who decided that this was an excuse to have friendly sex, numerous attempts to impose virtual sex, etc.
I am 10. Village, stove. Grandma's neighbor came in on some business. He sat next to him, stroking his knee and above. I have a stupor, I don't know what to do.
I am 13. The same village. I spent the evening on the dam with guys I've known for years. They didn't do anything special. We sat and chatted. I'm sorry, I'm going home. I understand that some of the guys are following me.
Next picture: I'm in the nearest bushes, they are trying to pull off my underpants. I actively fight back. This is where it ended. They didn’t succeed, and then everything was brought into the game. And all relatively children were 13-16. And I pretended it was nothing to worry about.
I am 12 or 13, my parents and my brother are at a recreation center either near Odessa or near Berdyansk. wooden houses and showers at the corners of the base. Even before lunch after the beach, I went to the shower to wash off the sand and water. For some reason, Mom didn’t go, but what could happen in the shower room 200 meters from the house, in the middle of the day in a crowded base.
But there was no one in the shower. I undressed and began to wash in the booth farthest from the door. And a naked man walked into the women's shower room. He squeezed me in a corner and began to touch all the places. Lucky - after a couple of minutes, a gang of aunts collapsed. The freak quickly ran out. Then my dad searched for him for a long time at the base and neighboring ones. So I didn't find it.
I thought for a long time whether to write or not. There are events in my life that no more than five people know about. Not because I hide it, it's just that this topic is not raised. And at what point is it worth entrusting a person with a story about experienced violence? And is it worth it?
When I was eight years old, I was first sexually abused by a close relative. Sometimes I feel like I've worked it out. But now my hands are shaking and it's hard to breathe.
Facebook has burst with a huge number of monstrous stories. And the most monstrous thing about them is that they real life. In my life, too, there was a similar story and I never told anyone about it.
Why? Why are millions of girls silent? Because they are brought up with the thought: "If something happens to you, I will kill you!" They are hammered in the blame for everything from childhood! And with this guilt for all we live.
Just read, go to Facebook and type the tag The flash mob started in the Ukrainian network, so there are even more stories by the tag.
And think. If something happens to your daughter, does she know that you will help her? Or does she understand that for you she is always to blame for everything herself?
Yes, it happened to me too. In broad daylight, when I was walking from school, I didn’t look at anyone invitingly (I was always in my thoughts) and dressed anti-provocatively for a teenager.
Therefore, all the cries of "self-discipline" is a hypocritical attempt to hide from reality. A reality in which there is a considerable number of men who believe that if they are big and strong, then they can do anything.
I was lucky because one of the neighbors knocked on the door and I managed to break free and run away.
And now I'm reading the stories of girls who didn't have a chance. Who went through this not once or twice. Because the rapist was a stepfather or a father. I read the stories of girls whose mothers turned a blind eye to this. And it's monstrous.
And I understand that now at this very moment this is happening to some girl and no one will come to her aid and the rapist will continue to live peacefully, as if nothing had happened. Or maybe even consider yourself a tough guy.
Saved
Facebook has burst with a huge number of monstrous stories. And the most monstrous thing about them is that this is real life. In my life, too, there was a similar story and I never told anyone about it. Why? Why are millions of girls silent? Because they are in...
"/>The flash mob #I'm not afraid to say is gaining momentum on social networks. The action prompted many women to speak up for the first time sexual abuse. Through social media one can look again at the experience that is simply ignored by many in the post-Soviet space.
We all know that rape is a highly traumatic experience for both women and men. It is extremely difficult to go after it, and even when society begins to escalate with the phrases “it’s your own fault”, “there is nothing to endure quarrels in public”, “be patient, be proud”, then it becomes even more difficult to return to normal life. It may seem to many of us that rape of women is an extremely rare case: 145 cases of rape were registered in the Ministry of Internal Affairs of Belarus in 2015. In neighboring Russia, official government statistics are looked at rather critically, as they do not reflect the scale of the problem - according to the results of surveys by the National Independent Commission of the Russian Federation on Women's Rights and Violence Against Women in general, about 22% of the entire female population of Russia has been subjected to at least one rape (with only 8% of them applied).
Unfortunately, it was not possible to find the results of such studies for Belarus, but the closeness of the cultural and sociological problems of both countries does not cast doubt on the fact that Belarus is not far removed from Russia. The scale of the problem in human society can be catastrophic - in 1998-2000, South Africa ranked first in rape in the world: 500,000 cases of rape per year, 25% of men in surveys stated that they had raped someone at least once (sic! )
Given all of the above, the #I'm not afraid to say is an extremely important red flag for the societies of the former Soviet Union The problem of rape exists and we need something with this case.
Here are some of the stories the media chose from #I'm not afraid to say:
“I'm not afraid to say. And I don't feel guilty.
I am 6-12 years old. A relative is visiting us. He loves to put me on my knees. At some point, when I was already a teenager, he wants to kiss me on the lips. I get angry and run. They call me "ignoramus".
I am 13 years old. I walk along Khreshchatyk, carrying home a bag of groceries in each hand. I pass the segment from the KSCA to the Central Department Store. Soon my home. Suddenly, my uncle, who is walking towards me, abruptly changes the trajectory of movement and grabs me between my legs with acceleration. He grabs so hard he lifts me up on his arm. I'm so shocked I just don't know how to react. Uncle releases me and walks quietly on.
I'm 21. I broke up with a psychopath (real, clinical), but I forgot my grandfather's embroidered shirt at his house, which I called out to him. I go to his house. He twists me, undresses me by force and ties me to the bed. No, it doesn't rape. "Just" hurts physically. I feel powerless from the fact that I can not influence the situation in any way. He takes pictures of me naked and threatens to post pictures on the Internet. For a long time I am afraid to talk about what he did to me, because I am afraid of photos on the Internet. And I’m afraid because I’m very shy about my body (it’s funny to remember now) ”
“I am 10. Village, stove. Grandma's neighbor came in on some business. He sat next to him, stroking his knee and above. I have a stupor, I don't know what to do.
I am 13. The same village. I spent the evening on the dam with guys I've known for years. They didn't do anything special. We sat and chatted. I'm sorry, I'm going home. I understand that some of the guys are following me.
Next picture: I'm in the nearest bushes, they are trying to pull off my underpants. I actively fight back. This is where it ended. They didn’t succeed, and then everything was brought into the game. And all relatively children were 13-16. And I pretended it was nothing to worry about.”
“I’m 12 or 13, my parents and brother and I are at a recreation center either near Odessa, or near Berdyansk. Wooden houses and showers in the corners of the base. Even before lunch after the beach, I went to the shower to wash off the sand and water. For some reason, Mom didn’t go, but what could happen in the shower room 200 meters from the house, in the middle of the day in a crowded base.
But there was no one in the shower. I undressed and began to wash in the booth farthest from the door. And a naked man walked into the women's shower room. He squeezed me in a corner and began to touch all the places. Lucky - after a couple of minutes, a gang of aunts collapsed. The freak quickly ran out. Then my dad searched for him for a long time at the base and neighboring ones. I didn't find it."
And I am in a state of akhtung. For those who don’t know: a couple of days ago, under this hashtag, women began to post their stories of violence that they didn’t tell anyone - because they were ashamed or scared or because they didn’t think it was important.
Something terrible has never happened to me - pah-pah-pah - but I have several stories of harassment behind my back, which I did not talk about, because nothing terrible happened.
I'm 12, I'm riding a full trolley bus home from school. I am standing in front of a seat with a young couple, a man is standing close to my right. I feel that something strange begins to rest against me, I look down and do not understand what I see, but I guess that “this is what it looks like, it turns out.” A young couple sees all this, but pretends not to see anything. It’s inconvenient for me to move away, because “what will others think”, but after two minutes I still push myself to the other end of the trolleybus.
About a year later, I'm leaving school again. The bus is half empty, a man is sitting in front of me and strangely, intently and for a long time - 10 minutes - looks at me. I get up and pretend that I'm going to get off at the bus stop. He gets up too. The bus stops and the doors open. He comes out, I hide behind the seats. The doors are closing, he looks around at the bus stop, sees me in the departing bus and sees me off with the same strange and intent look.
After about a couple of months, I go to the store through the forest, where there are usually always a lot of people, because it is quite safe. There were about a hundred meters left before going out into the street, I overtook some man. I can’t explain why a second “before” I felt in my back that I should start yelling - and I was right, because he knocked me to the ground when I was already screaming. He just got up and left. Back from the store, I went the other way.
I'm 18, someone finally asked me out on a date. At the end of the meeting, he asked me “well, to my house?”. I refused. The first date was the last.
I'm 27, I have a strange admirer. After two weeks of communication, I told him that we were clearly not a couple, so I suggested that we stop communicating. For the next six months, I didn’t know where to go, because I was accused of trying to ruin his life, because he did it to me, because he is so good, and I’m obviously hiding something if I don’t want to be with him. He disappeared only when I changed all the phones and even the country of residence. Last summer, from some leftist Facebook account, he again asked me to explain to him why I refused to build a relationship with him five years ago. I didn't answer, so a few months later he wrote to my husband and asked him to ask me to answer him. The husband politely but harshly replied to go through the forest and not return.
Mom once told me how some dude approached her on the subway and said right to her face that he wanted her. Mom was a person from the eighteenth century commercials, so she ran out of the car in tears out of shame. The sister also had a strange (to put it mildly) admirer who still haunts her. Without going into details, the father raised his hand to both of them - extremely rarely, but nonetheless. This fate of family violence - and this family violence - spared me, but I remember that when I pulled him away from his mother and said that he had no right to raise a hand against a weak woman, he answered me that if some loser once on marries me, then let me read morals to him.
None of us ever went to the police or openly discussed these stories. I never thought that they had any meaning, because nothing terrible happened. Well, there were assholes on my way, so what to do, with whom it doesn’t happen. It turns out that it happens to almost everyone and the scale of this problem is off scale. And this is the worst thing - in this insane number of stories, when it seems like nothing terrible happened, but this should not happen in principle. But it will happen as long as we remain silent, because if something is not massively and loudly condemned, then it seems to be possible. This is scary.
And it’s even scarier to read the comments of some “people” to these stories, who say that women themselves are to blame - you need to dress more modestly, you need to behave differently, that you seem to agree that if you really didn’t want to, then you would fight back etc.
There is this schizophrenic point of view in society that if a man starts harassing a woman, it is because she is wearing a skirt / wearing makeup / looking in his direction / acting as if she doesn’t mind / and so on. That is, of course, he is wrong, but there is a share of my guilt, because I kind of provoke. But if I start grabbing men by the balls in the subway car, then I’m definitely wrong and crazy, because he definitely didn’t provoke me with his suit and tie.
We all needed this hashtag #I'm not afraid to say, because it's high time to remove the taboo label from the topic of harassment and violence against women. There is some kind of unspoken agreement in society that a man supposedly has some kind of patriarchal superiority, so it’s not only possible for him, but often it’s kind of forgivable to climb under a woman’s skirt or raise his hand to them. In Europe, this is a little better than in Russia, but here, too, there is this stigma of “itself to blame”.
And while this unspoken consent exists, every girl can face harassment and violence - and we must do everything to prevent this. I definitely don't want my niece or my girlfriends' daughters to have to deal with my stories, even if, I repeat, nothing terrible happened in them. I don't want some pervert to poke their 12-year-olds into a causal place, not to mention something more. I want them to live in a safe world where no one thinks it's okay to harass or hit them just because they're women. And I want this for all the girls and women of the world.
I won't explain why because it's obvious, but no means no. And if someone could not keep a penis in his pants or a hand in his pocket, then he is to blame, not the woman. Dot. And it's time for all of us to agree with this.
What is the reason for the popularity of flash mobs with stories about depression and experienced violence, do they help to cope with psychological trauma, how do flash mobs trigger the mechanism of false memories and why do participants face bullying?
"Paper" talked to the candidate psychological sciences Ekaterina Burina, lecturer at St. Petersburg State University.
- Why are flash mobs like "I'm not afraid to say", Me Too and Face of Depression on social networks becoming more and more popular?
This may be due in general to the increase in the number of people who use social networks. And this is a certain trend - to take out your experiences outside. Many use social networks to share something of their own: post the music they listen to, sign photos, write posts. It seems to me that the popularity of flash mobs is due precisely to time.
In such flash mobs, people tell personal stories, often making very traumatic experiences public. Sometimes not anonymous. Is this the kind of frankness with which people tell everything about themselves to fellow travelers on the train?
I don't think there is any single mechanism here. Everyone does it for their own reasons. Some people use their social media pages as their own. The Diary. It is important for someone to show: “I am different, not like everyone else, I post something complicated, let them see what my life is like,” it makes him feel better. Someone wants to find conditionally associates and people who are also experiencing some [similar] events. Some people are just curious.
Compared to the 2000s, when LiveJournal had already appeared, can we say that, compared to that time, people have become more open and there are fewer taboo topics for them?
I guess yes. Taboos are gradually disappearing. Of course, there are topics that we are still not very actively discussing, but many people, on the contrary, “catch the wave” and say that there should be no taboo, everything should be discussed, everything should be open. In the 90s and later, this was also the case, but not so massively. The form is changing a little, and the number [of people willing to give up the taboo] has increased.
How does participation in flash mobs affect the reliving of trauma? And if you read the stories of the flash mob participants, and if you tell your own story.
It seems to me that some people (and I know some) participating in flash mobs have not fully coped with the experience of trauma and, accordingly, are pulling out the story again. It's painful, but they help themselves: they speak out the trauma again, experience it, and it somehow "fits" after. Especially if everything goes well while telling a story to a group.
- That is, if Feedback positive for history?
Yes, if there was support and there was no bullying. But there are people who don't want to talk about trauma or bump into certain topics. Maybe because they are still too keenly worried, maybe something happened in life that reminded them of this.
If we talk about people who have not fully survived their trauma, is it safe for them to participate in such flash mobs?
Here the question is: who is the audience to which I take out my story? If these are people who are prepared and positively disposed ... After all, some do not even want to act in spite or ask some questions and cause harm, but an ill-conceived question or remark can do harm. Things can turn out really great and safe, but there can be a person asking questions that the author of the story is not ready for.
And again, at first this can be perceived as something negative, and then, worrying and thinking, the author of the story can thank this person, because perhaps the question is correct, just the author was not ready.
Sometimes participants write "I did not attach any importance to this, but I read the stories and realized that it was a traumatic experience." Is it possible to say that a person projects the experience of other people onto his own?
For example, there was a person who thought: “what happened, happened,” and then read [stories], looked and realized that it was a traumatic situation, and decided that now he has become different, because he perceives himself differently. And, probably, if it were not for the story he read, he would not even think about it.
On the other hand, something else could lead to this [re-awareness]. Because, perhaps, the experience was really traumatic, and the person “put it down” with the help of psychological defenses and thought that everything was fine.
There are also false memories that are built into the memory. And we remember things that didn't really happen. And maybe, after reading some story, we will come up with something similar [from our experience], we will strengthen it, we will experience some emotions for this, we will think that it really happened to us. We will begin to have some worries about this, although in reality everything could not be quite so.
- Tell us how the mechanism of false memories works.
Let's take our childhood. We hardly remember everything. We often remember only the brightest events, and mostly the stories of other people: parents and peers. Or remember something from a photograph. Or remember some story related to photography. And we tend to think that these are our memories. There are studies that a person can be implanted with false memories, to impose a memory of events that did not happen in his life.
- What can be called a trauma in a general sense?
Some kind of event of a negative nature that affects a person, makes him feel pain, sometimes physical. But this is a very different concept. There are a lot of things called trauma these days. Killed in front of a man is a trauma. Participated in hostilities - also an injury. But they are categorically different, and we also experience them differently, although there are similar moments.
You said that people often start to feel like a victim. Flash mobs such as "I'm not afraid to say", Me Too and Face of Depression have been criticized for the fact that people involved in them begin to insist on the status of a victim. Is it true? And why is this happening?
There is such a personality trait, and perhaps someone benefits from it: attention, support, lack of judgment. Flashmobs are indeed criticized for this. On the other hand, this has never been discussed before.
In America and Europe, the trend for flash mobs started earlier, and it came to us some time ago [in this form]: now we will talk about it (injuries - approx. "Paper") speak, show such people. Now it is even hypertrophied. It seems to me that over time [interest] will subside. And now [it happens like this]: "Let's talk about everything, let's recognize all minorities."
What is this excitement about? With the fact that there is simply a new trend or with our mentality and the fact that certain topics have not been discussed with us for a long time?
I think it's both. If it was a new trend, people would follow it and then leave. However, he has not yet reached his peak.
- What are the pros and cons?
On the one hand, the removal of taboos is a plus. It's great when you can talk about everything and everyone accepts everything. But the level of acceptance is different for everyone. The destruction of some stereotypes and, in principle, the opportunity to simply say what you are, what happened to you. Plus support: you can always find a group of people who will help you cope with the experience.
The disadvantages are that it sometimes catches people who do not want to take part in this and know about it. For people who have not experienced [trauma], it is often only a minus. I now consult, and many of my clients are trying to hide, leave social networks, want to be in themselves, to experience everything alone, and not with society.
Some participants in flash mobs may experience bullying. Has the bullying mechanism changed in any way with social media?
Bullying used to happen in a small community. The same class, somewhere at work. With cyberbullying, the scale grows. Now people are included in more groups, communities, and in each of them a situation of bullying can occur.
Often this happens in writing. And people [in this case] know no boundaries. When I talk to a person, it can even go to hand-to-hand combat, but still there is a line, you can cool down. And when a person writes, he can write to one, second, third, thus showing his aggression, but not working through it to the end. He poisons people, although he does not know them, but he concluded only from their comment or photo.
- Can we say that bullying has become tougher? For example, by distributing some kind of intimate photos?
Yes. There is more leverage, simply because there is more information about a person in social networks. There are more ways to do harm. You can find friends [of the victim], somehow influence through them.
What are the negative reactions to flash mobs? Why can they cause irritation, hostility and disgust among observers?
This may be due to the fact that there are too many such stories and a person in the news feed accidentally stumbled upon something similar. And he thought: “Why spread such negativity again.” And wrote [answer, comment]. Or there is some kind of trauma or some current event that touches, and therefore the person reacts so sharply.
- Can participation in flash mobs replace psychotherapy?
I think it can - and successfully. What happens here is what is considered to be a coming out: I didn’t tell anyone about something, but now I’m talking. And it doesn’t matter what kind of information it is, but if I report it for the first time, then I am vulnerable and see how the society that reads or listens to me reacts to what I have said. And it’s easier for me, because I said everything and I don’t keep this uniqueness a secret.
Someone has a similar story, and then I understand that I'm not alone. And this is the most important thing that works at the group level: I see people who are similar to me, who are doing well, living well, everything is fine with them. And then I also have a conditional belief that everything can be fine with me too, and I can also cope with it.
This works very well as a delayed effect. Maybe then I will sit and remember the stories of other people or some of their words of support, and at some difficult moments they will pull me out. It's therapeutic.
A similar effect can be achieved with group therapy or personal counseling. Then it will be easier for me to talk about it and write about it. It’s not that the mechanism of working through the trauma starts from the moment of the story, but a new round will begin. And I will start processing what hurts in a different way.