Not All Men by Fallon Buchholz

I’m sure it started earlier, but my first memory of it was when I was 13 years old. The

boys in my class have started commenting on how flat my chest was in Spanish. I guess they

forgot I took Spanish too. Other boys in my class have started something called “Slap Ass

Friday” where they’d slap our asses whenever they get the chance. We all run from it, laughing,

because we’re supposed to like it. Not all men, but the boys in my class.

I’m 14 years old, my freshman year of high school when my first high school boyfriend

starts pressuring me to be intimate. I keep pushing his hands off of me, but they end up back in

those spots. I’m still 14 when he and one of his friends force themselves on me. I’m 14 when my

classmates are calling me a slut for being assaulted. Not all men, but my own boyfriend.

I’m 15 when I punch someone, the only person I’ve ever punched. He made up sexual

rumors about me and I suppose, I was feeling feisty that summer. I’m 15 when my best friend,

Margot, and I are walking around town on the 4th of July with her younger brother and some

adult men yell obscenities at us. Her younger brother yelled and cussed at them and my old,

Christian neighbors screamed at her brother as if his swearing was worse than the pedophilic

behavior from the men in the truck. I’m still 15 when my friend experiments with drugs and

someone takes advantage of her in that state. My friends and I constantly explain that short

skirts, being drunk or being friendly aren’t invitations to our bodies. The boys in high school with

me make up rumors about us, who we’ve slept with, what everything looks like despite never

having seen a naked woman. My own grandfather makes comments about my friend’s breasts.

Not all men, but my own grandpa.

I’m 17. I have a kind and sweet boyfriend, but the harassment doesn’t stop. The boys on

his football team want all the details of my body. His teammates talk about me in the locker

room. I’m working at a restaurant. Old men feel it’s okay to put their hands on my lower back.

Margot and I have started a petition at school to get rid of our sexist dress code. Some boys in

our class tell us it’s stupid. Not all men, but most of the football team.

I’m 18. I’m meeting new friends at work and college. We bond through our shared

trauma of being taken advantage of, even if we have nothing else in common. I’m 18 in my

spring semester of my freshman year of college when I start seeing this man. It’s casual at first,

but I develop feelings. It becomes more and more prevalent that he sees me as a toy to play

with, asking me if the week I’m on my period is “blowjob” week, as if his pleasure is a priority I

must fulfill. I’ve been out as bisexual for over a year and I’m not shy about it, but men love to

ask “Threesome?” when I mention it, as if my identity has anything to do with their sexual

desires. I’m 18 when my friends and I take a trip to New York City and we’re catcalled and

shortly followed as we are walking to the shops. I’m taking a women’s studies course. Rape

culture is a topic we discuss often. A classmate tells me about a cop taking advantage of her in

the backseat of the cop car. Not all men, but a cop.

I’m 19. I met a guy on Tinder. He seems great. We started dating pretty quickly. Moving

in together and everything, but suddenly not liking sexual assault jokes is using my experiences

against him. Suddenly, living my life the way I would before makes me a horrible person. I have

to give up friends, basketball, and so much more for him. I look back now and ask myself why

didn’t I leave then? Why didn’t I leave before he started calling me stupid and making me feel

bad for gaining a healthy amount of weight? Not all men, but my boyfriend..again.

I’m 20 on a break with that guy from the previous paragraphs. A high school friend of

mine offers to hang out and keep my mind off of it. Little did I know, his intentions were not pure.

He used to date my friend too, but that didn’t matter to him. He saw me vulnerable and tried to

sleep with me, I denied him. He lied to my friend and said we did sleep together, wrecking two

friendships in one fell swoop. Not all men, but my own friend.

I’m 21. I help my friend and her kids secretly move away from her abusive husband. It’s

late at night, and I drive them two hours away. I beg her to never go back, but she falls victim to

more men just like him. I’m 21. I left that guy from the previous paragraphs. A friend of mine

invites me out for a drink, I think what the hell. As I’m walking, looking for this bar I have never

been to before, I walk past two men who start yelling obscenities at me. I turn around and take

an even longer route to the bar to avoid them. I’m 21 when the pandemic started, and I’m single

for the first time in a while. I have few friends who are men, who are starting to admit they

wanted to sleep with me. Not a single one of my friendships with men was genuine. I’m 21 when

a cook at my work is commenting on my body and asking me to go home with him. It didn’t

matter if I reported it, that’s “just how it is” in the restaurant industry. I’m 21 when my friend and I

are walking her dog and men shout out the window at us, whistling and yelling something about

our asses. Not all men, but my coworker.

I’m 22, I finally have a genuine friendship with a man who wants nothing out of me, but it

turns out I was wrong about him. I learn he sexually assaulted someone recently. I immediately

cut him off. Not all men, but my best friend.

I’m 23. I’m listening to the way my friends’ boyfriends treat them. I tell them how much

more they deserve and how the behavior their boyfriends impose on them isn’t okay. I beg them

to leave them, if they can. I’m 23 on May 3, 2022 when I’m scrolling through my social media

when I realize Roe versus Wade may be overturned. Reproductive rights are at risk by the

opinion of a few men on the Supreme Court. Not all men, but our legislators.

But, not all men…..