Updated: May 17, 2023
Originally Published: May 17, 2023
Trigger Warning: This content may be triggering for those who have experienced sexual harassment or abuse.
When I was just 11 years old, I remember that summer vividly. I was wearing a black one-piece swimsuit, my hair damp from a day spent at the lake with family. The heat scorched our feet as we hurriedly found our flip-flops and dashed into a nearby pizza place, eager for a cool respite. While I was busy eyeing the candy machines, I noticed some commotion outside. My uncles were in a heated discussion with a stranger. At that moment, all I could think about was pizza and candy.
Later, I learned that my uncles had witnessed a man making an inappropriate gesture while I was bent over. My cousins whispered about it, and I felt a wave of shame wash over me.
I was an early developer, standing out among my peers who still had childlike figures. While the other girls in my class had slender legs and flat chests, I was already curvy with prominent hips and thighs. This early maturation made me feel uncomfortable and exposed. Boys and girls alike made comments about my body, and even my family wasn’t exempt; my uncles labeled me “chubby,” while my cousins teased me for being the “biggest” among us. My mother, subconsciously fearful of my growing femininity, would often create an atmosphere heavy with anxiety. I got my first period at the age of 10, and my grandmother referred to me as a señorita, a title I didn’t feel I deserved. The attention I received from older men only added to my confusion and discomfort.
One day, I was sitting in the car with my almost 12-year-old daughter, Mia, sharing a chocolate bar. The heat forced us to enjoy the air conditioning before heading out again. I asked her to throw away the messy wrapper, and when she returned, her face was troubled.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, concerned.
“That man over there whistled at me and stared while I walked to the trash can. Mama, it made me feel so uncomfortable!” she exclaimed.
I turned to see a man in his forties, lounging in a work truck a few spaces away, with a smirk on his face.
“Are you sure? Was anyone else around?” My heart raced with anger.
“No, it was just me. He stared and whistled like this,” she replied, demonstrating the sound.
Without thinking, I threw the car in reverse and parked right in front of the man’s truck. His smirk vanished, and I could see Mia sink down in her seat, unsure of what I was doing.
I rolled down the window and confronted him. “Did you whistle at the little girl who just walked by? She’s only 11! You were staring at her and whistling?”
He feigned innocence, of course. I can’t recall everything I said, but I was furious. The sight of my daughter shrinking in her seat only fueled my anger. Why should she feel afraid? Why should she feel shame? She did absolutely nothing wrong.
What he said next nearly pushed me over the edge. “Excuse me, ma’am, but your daughter is lying to you,” he insisted, leaning forward to emphasize his point.
With trembling hands, I drove home, taking thirty minutes to calm down. We ended up grabbing fish tacos, hoping it would help me forget the encounter.
“Thank you for standing up for me, Mama,” Mia said, snuggling closer. In that moment, I felt like I had done right by her and the little girl I once was.
The following day, I spoke to a male friend about the incident. To my dismay, he downplayed the man’s actions.
“Maybe he was whistling at someone else. He probably had a friend nearby,” he suggested, shifting the blame onto me.
“You shouldn’t have parked in front of his truck. That was dangerous. Maybe you should’ve taken a picture or called for help,” he continued, implying I shouldn’t have let Mia walk alone.
I felt tears welling up—not from sadness, but from anger, frustration, disappointment, and rage over how society often shifts the blame onto women.
Despite the turmoil, I chose to hold onto one important lesson: I listened to my daughter. I didn’t question her or assign blame. I simply believed her. And she thanked me for it.
For more insights on navigating motherhood and advocating for your child, visit this blog post about home insemination, or check out Make A Mom for excellent resources on the subject. Additionally, Science Daily offers a wealth of information on pregnancy and fertility.
In summary, it is crucial for mothers to trust and defend their daughters. Listening to their experiences and believing them fosters a supportive environment where they can thrive.