Imagine if everywhere you went, your whole life, there were always ants. Your job, the gym, the grocery store, just walking down the street, fucking ants, all the gd time. Sometimes just a few, a mere annoyance, one in your food, another crawling on your neck. Sometimes though, there're a lot of ants, thick layers of them, like black rivers, clogging up your world, affecting the places you go and the choices you make. Sometimes you're even a little afraid of the ants, bc there's so GD MANY and their little bites add up until you're covered in tiny, painful welts that never quite have time to heal before the next ant bites you. And it happens so much, you start to think like maybe YOU caused this, maybe the ants are your fault. Other people don't get bitten by so many ants all the time. You feel humiliated, embarrassed, and so you don't talk about it. But it starts to make you a little crazy, ALL THESE GD ANTS, THEY'RE RELENTLESS, and you decide to start telling people about the ants, and when you do, they're like, OMG ME TOO, THESE ANTS ARE KILLING ME and you feel so much better. So you keep talking about it, choosing to be really public about it, even though it's kind of a vulnerable thing.
And then I come in, a person who has never had an ant infestation, who hasn't had a lifetime to learn how to operate in an ant's world with grace and dignity, and I think I need to offer YOU advice on not letting the situation "control your emotions" bc "life is too short.". I tell you to maybe try smiling and being really polite to the ants. I talk over you and tell you about the one time a beetle touched my butt in a club in a very nonconsensual way, and try to equate my singular experience to living with a lifetime of never quite feeling safe or entirely autonomous in one's own space.
Well, that would make a real cunt, wouldn't it? And I would owe you an apology and probably a Starbucks giftcard for assuming I'm smarter or more reasonable than you, and have any right to say anything other than "That sucks, I'm sorry." This "pussy grabber" business has a lot of women very upset. It's a reminder of the thousand thousand dehumanizing remarks and behaviors we've endured since we were children, in ways large and small. It's re-traumatizing and tiring, and I can say, at least for me, makes me want to punch a hole through a party bus. So, be a kind to the women in your life. Listen to their pain without making it about you. Examine your attitudes and behavior and accept that you're probably part of the system what raised ya. Work to be a better than a bug. (Be an aardvark, maybe. Those are dope.)