Two years ago.
“Come here.” He said, as he pulled my body, toward him.
I resisted a little, strongly uncomfortable and a little in shock. My knees locked up, my heavy red coat seemed suffocating and my breath caught, lodged in my chest and I panicked as my bus driver, a public employee dragged my rigid form against his and started to kiss my neck.
There was a moment where my brain completely unwired. I thought, “RUN!” but my legs were locked. “Fight! Push away!” But I couldn’t breathe. I was so appalled – so utterly taken by surprise – so fucking shocked at the entirely unwelcome and unsolicited gropping that my brain quite simply – could not process the advance.
“Kiss me back.” He demanded.
I began shaking. Running over and over in my mind how I could have gotten to this point.
It started a month earlier when my jeep broke down and I took the bus to work across town, then home to change/eat/let the dog out, then back across town for school and home about midnight. Everyday at 4:05 pm I caught J’s bus home to get ready for school. By the time I got to the bus stop there was standing room only on the bus so I found myself holding the bar next to the bus driver as he drove me home. We chatted amicably about my schedule, where I lived, the fact that I was alone and what I was going to school for. All things I thought I was safe to talk about.
He would drop me off by my house and I would run home and snarf, let out Hercules, and change and run back to the bus stop as J’s loop around St. Johns completed and he would drive past me as I waited for the bus behind him. He’d usually wave.
One day as I was standing on the bus he said, “Your stop is my favorite, because when you get off and walk away, I get to watch your backside as you go. You have a very nice backside.”
I was sufficiently creeped out that for the next few days, I missed his bus on purpose and caught the next one. Something was wrong, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. It happened one night that I was in a terrible hurry to get home so I could gather extra props from around the house for my scene and I caught J’s route home and strangely it was mostly empty. I sat in the vacancy in the back to avoid chatting but he kept asking me to come up front over the speaker. So finally, I walked forward and stood next to him while he talked. It was dark, late autumn almost winter as most of the leaves were gone and when he dropped me off the rain had started again and I raced home to get my stuff together and raced back to the stop where I huddled in the alcove to stay dry.
I saw his bus coming so I expected him to wave but he pulled up under the street lamp and opened the door.
“Come in here where it’s dry.” He shouted.
“I don’t want to miss my bus!” I replied.
“You won’t miss your bus, he’ll be along shortly. I’ll flag him when he comes. You just come in here where it’s warm and dry.”
Something inside me screamed NOOOO!!! But my logic said, public employee, public bus, brightly lit interior, under a streetlamp and so on… so I stepped onto the bus only to realize – it was completely empty. I didn’t really have time to think before his hands were on my hips pulling me toward him.
“Kiss me back,” He demanded.
And my brain whirled. “No, thank you.” I said. Yes, I even said thank you.
“Kiss me back. It’s okay.”
“No.” my fight or flight instinct finally started to kick in, and I struggled a little, squirming a bit.
His grip tightened and he pulled me closer, splaying his hands up the side of my body and my back and crushing me against his chest and shoulders.
My heart raced and I thought I might burst into tears.
“It’s okay, Baby Girl. You can kiss me back.” But I knew it to be less of a coaxing entreaty and more of a threatening demand. And something about that sparked me back from the land of shock.
“I said NO!” I shimmied my hands up between us and shoved at his chest. “Fuck off.”
His grip loosened enough that I twisted away and ran for the open door leaping out into the rain under the streetlight. I landed poorly and my right knee hyper extended so I staggered before I could reach the nearby building panting.
He laughed from the doorway as I stared at the oncoming bus, my real bus and he yelled out to me, “What’s your sign?”
I couldn’t believe the absurdity of the question and before I could think about why – I hissed, “Leo.”
“Ahhh,” he said and gripped the silver knob on the door swing. “That explains everything.” He jerked the door closed and drove away as I stood there shivering and as soon as the next bus pulled up, I burst into tears and ran down the block to my house where I called Awesome and Adorabella.
Later, as I sat on their couch, I was certain Awesome intended to take a crowbar to the bus driver, but he’d have to pry it out of Adorabella’s enraged fist. I wasn’t sure which one of them would kill the bastard first.
The thing is, as I sat in replay trying to pull it apart. I felt responsible. Like I’d brought it on or asked for it in some way. So I begged them not to say anything that might cost a man his job, because what if I was at fault.
I now understand the error there. More on that in a bit.
I also kept repeating this phrase, “They’re not supposed to be interested in me. I wear baggy clothes and hide behind my hair and act frumpy and gain weight to keep attention away.” I repeated it several times out of confusion, bafflement.
Then Adorabella quite calmly said, “Girls who are frumpy, or wounded looking are the biggest targets for predators because they are the girls least likely to tell. There’s even the twisted logic in a predator that they think, the girl might even be desperate enough for the attention.”
I was floored. Absolutely- totally astonished. How could I have never thought of that before?
As the week progressed, I shredded every second up till the act in my mind. I picked apart every nuance, detail and feeling. What I arrived at was that ‘There must be a disconnect between the way I see myself, and the way others see me’.
So I decided to do a social experiment and discover a better idea about how I am perceived so that I could try to correlate it with how I actually feel as a woman.
I then bleached my hair, dressed up in my cherry dress, and knee high docs. I wore red lipstick and brought a bag with a disposable camera and my notebook. That Saturday I got on the bus in St. Johns in the morning and rode, walked, Maxed and strolled all over town for ten hours. I walked up to total strangers and started chatting, something random usually, then segued into, “I’m doing a social experiment. Would you mind taking a picture of me?”
Then whether they did or didn’t, whether they were chatty or shy or fearful of this blonde and bold woman – whether they stared at my boobs, or made a comment like, “Are you a movie star.” (which was my personal favorite) I wrote it all down in my notebook.
Interestingly, men in their 40’s were congenial. Men in their fifties and sixties were downright charming. Three black men in their thirties, in separate instances approached me first. And white men in their twenties wouldn’t so much as look me in the face. One guy, a heavy dude in his late thirties actually sat next to me on the bus when there were a dozen open seats.
I smiled when he said, “Are you Christina Agulara or something? Did your car break down somewhere?”
“No. But that’s very sweet.” I laughed. “Would you mind taking my picture? I’m doing a social experiment.”
“Sure, Baby. I’ll take all the pictures you want!” He took the camera and snapped a couple of pictures then went into a great conversation about how he thinks more blonde women need to ride the bus in St. Johns – purely, because then he could take them fishing with him down at the bridge.
A young guy in his mid twenties was sitting next to me at a coffee shop as I made notes. When he appeared to want to talk I asked him to take my picture and he hesitated, then balked then zipped up his jacket and said, “I’d rather not. I just want to read and be left alone.”
I smiled. “Thank you. You have had the most interesting response all day.”
He became curious and leaned forward, but I got up to leave. “What’s the social experiment about, if you don’t mind.”
“I can’t tell you that.”
I came to a couple of fairly astonishing conclusions about hitting the town with my chin up, my confidence shining (even if it felt fake while I tried it on for size), my clothes sexy and not baggy and my hair a bright golden hue.
Black men were 78% more likely to approach me than white men. Men in their twenties and early thirties were 60% more likely to stare at my breasts or my feet. While Men in their 30’s were 82% more likely to make lasting eye contact and ask lots of interesting questions, even try to crack a joke. Gentlemen in their 50’s or 60’s were 90% more likely to rush ahead to open a door, stand and let me have a seat on the MAX, insist I go first up the steps or ask me if I was alone. Funny enough not a single person asked me if I had a boyfriend.
I didn’t understand it. Perhaps it was because I hadn’t gone out with the intention of being unnoticed, because I usually did, my results felt skewed. But what amazed me was the approachability alone. I could quite easily go through a whole day talking only to people in my sphere of influence and make eye contact with maybe one or two strangers –accidentally. But suddenly, I was an object of attention. It was terrifying and exciting and although thrilling on some level – I also knew I was completely unschooled in how to handle it. I had no idea how to ground it, or be safe – and yet evidently, I was also a target when I was hiding.
So what were my options. Run. Hide. Learn. Or…. Get educated.
First step: Know my body, so I can learn to own it.
I got home that night, exhausted and in a little bit of overload. However, I wanted to see for myself – what it was that everyone had seen in me all day. I needed to understand what I looked like to other people, so I set up my video camera and made a naked video of myself. I wanted to capture what it was that strangers were approaching or looking away from, including or excluding. I wanted an objective observation.
I filmed roughly an hour and a half’s worth of nude video and complied it with music to Tori Amos’s ‘Leather’. And I watched it, again, and again and again. I watched it with fascination because I didn’t recognize myself as a blond yet and all I could think about was.
If that’s really me, then my hips are not as wide as I always think they are. If that is really me, then my belly is not as bad as I think it is. If that is really me, then my stretch marks are actually kind of pretty. If that is me…
Over the last two years I’ve watched that video every time I get down on myself about my body. Every time I think I’m fat or pudgy or pale… I watch it and remember and when it’s over I can remind myself it’s never as bad as I think it is. Over the last two years I have come to realize – “I did not ask for the bus driver’s attention. I did not want it and he was way over the fucking line. So far over in fact, that if I ever see the fucker again – I will probably have to use my one phone call for bail from KFK.”
Over the last two years I wanted to put into place, a firm foundation of confidence and strength and education, so I could then shed the rest of my hiding and come out into the light without fear of being a target.
Second Step: Become comfortable in my own skin. Become a confident woman.
So that I can open myself to the world without needing a baggy shirt or a floppy jacket.
Third Step: Get healthy about my body. Become a warrior.
This is the last and most important step which will begin soon. I now feel like I have the strength and comfort to begin dropping weight, toning and eating better. I now feel like I have the foundation and inner structure to support the quest to become on the outside, what I feel like on the inside. I now have the desire, to see how much stronger I can become, because I have a good network, a fabulous support system and I know I can push myself and it can only make me better.
I have no interest in being a scrawny ingénue. I have no desire to be thin or willowy or lithe. I have the urge, the want to be tone and strong and fast. I have the desire to be able to hold my own in a fight, to outrun or outmaneuver my lovers and to be able challenge myself. I want to be able to do pull ups without laughing at how pathetically weak my arms are.
I want to be able to run a mile without collapse, lift twice my bodyweight with my legs, pick up a 60lb child without grunting and still be able to wear a cocktail dress and spiked heels in the evening and have a woman’s body.
A woman’s body that I am proud of. A woman’s body that I can easily defend. A woman’s body that I can dance with, or choose a lover with, or go home alone with and not have felt like I went home alone because I was frumpy, or terrified.
I hereby, declare, that as my quest for bliss evolves into the realms of relationships – my physical comfort levels, and strength are paramount to a healthy co-partnership. I now challenge myself to begin putting this last piece in order, bringing the circle of health onto the physical aspect of my quest and reorganizing the baggage that I’ve allowed to hide in my bad health habits. Emotional. Mental. And Physical.
It’s time for a re-org.
So in the next couple of months, you will probably be hearing a lot about this. I know this was a ridiculously long post, but it’s been building up for a couple of years. My site will be changing soon as well to reflect this new adventure and the psychological shift that will likely take place as the journey continues. It’s now in writing – So be it.
23 Comments(+Add)
I hear some kind of trumpet-dominated music swelling in the background like in a movie when the coach makes that one inspiring speach before they go out to face the second half of the ‘big game’.
That said…go you! I love the goal. I’m heading that way myself…wanting to get in shape, be able to do more, etc.
As for discovering yourself, your body, etc…may I suggest some kind of dance class? More specifically bellydance? It’s…I have no words to describe how awesome the community is. If you find the right teacher/studio/whatever it can be pretty amazing. Women of all shapes and sizes, ages, races, what have you (and yes, some men) feeling comfortable and confident about themselves. Also…it’s flippin hard and works muscles you didn’t even know you had.
Pretty sure there are some good resources in Portland too for bellydance
A raw, intense post. I’m proud of you for coming out of your shell. I’m hoping your continued journey will continue to motivate me, as well.
Epiphany, I LOVE belly dancing. I did it many years ago and I will look into it again.
It’s a great suggestion.
Right now I’m jazzing myself to some theme music,
*hops around to ‘Eye of the Tiger’*
Let’s do this thing.
Hey, erraberra
Thank you.
Oh! And if you want to try martial artsy stuff, my recommendation would be to go to one or two places at least before you pick one…if you want to go to a studio or whatever, that is. It’s been my experience that two people teaching the exact same discipline can have varying approaches. The only other advice is…if you find someone who says “this is the only correct way to do it, everyone else is wrong”…run the other way. Fast
This post was difficult for me to read. Or I should say, difficult for me to begin reading.
Luckily the story continues past the dark fear, and exposes strength of will and determination to incorporate and finally rise above it all.
Just as I imagine you have, Athena…
I particularly like the middle section, where you’re applying some logic and analysis to what some would dismiss as a perception issue, to take yourself out of your normal point of view and try on a different one.
There’s so much in here that many could learn from. I’m happy to know that you exist – if you take my meaning?
Belly-dancing and martial arts are very outcome oriented sports, and would certainly help in shaping your body. For myself, I run. It’s more personal, a solo effort; I compete only against myself, and I can participate in organized races if I want the social aspect. But mainly, running is the basis for any other sport, and it just feels good to remind myself that my body is there, and it works. But any activity will work as long as you enjoy it.
Epiphany that’s great advice
Thank you
Thank you, Brian
I’m interested right now in cardio and weight training. But I suspect that I will also try to add things like belly dancing and some form of self defense.
I will be blogging about this all as I work on it and as I get a better idea of what I want for myself.
I think it’s important to repeat for readers that I’m not looking to get skinny – just healthy, strong and confident. I believe as I start out after these things, I will naturally become happier with my body and my body image.
Thank you for your comments, Brian, I always appreciate them
that was a rediculously long, rediculously awesome post! I loved it! I loved hearing about your expriment, hearing the first part though made me want to throw telo’s computer across the room (and I don’t think he’d like that) or tear someone’s face off, but I agree with Adorabella. And..if you’ll have me, I would love to take some sort of class with you (maybe capoiera or something between dance and martial art, or dancing of some sort) if you are interested. Anyhow. don’t worry about length, that was one of the best things I’ve read all year. I even had to read 3/4 of it outloud to bunny and telo.
Hey Meg,
Don’t throw Telo’s computer.
I would happily have you. Would you like to do some research with me about styles of defense and dance and such?
Thank you for your comment. I love you, beautiful
I have roughly 10,000 thoughts and reactions to what I just read. I’ll choose one for each act. Act I: Bus-Driving Satan represents everything I abhor about my gender. And Athena’s first-pass processing of the event (the “Is this my fault?” conjecture) I found equally disturbing. That’s all I’ll say on that matter. Act II: I commend your social experiment, and the very concept of an inquisitive social experiment, but I’m not sure what to make of the data. Act III: You already know what my reccommendation is as far as an ahtletic venue, so I’ll spare you the advertisement. Everyone talks about fitness and its value and its echo on the other dimensions of one’s being, but you don’t hear very much talk on the psychology behind fitness, and when you do, it’s either sophomorically articulated, or overintellectualized, but the concept is a painfully simple one. Take a comb to your vocabulary and everywhere the word “no” exists, pluck it by the roots like an invasive plant species and imprint a “yes.” Forget the tripe spouted about discipline, motivation and what not (I’m correct, and everyone else is wrong!!!), forget the calorie-counting daily-planners and the cardio intensity scales. Those are useful technical tools, but it’s all results oriented, and result-oriented thinking is a temporary condition. Your body asks you questions all day long, and most of them are subliminal. It’s always asking “Do I feel like going to to Event A? Do I have the energy to do B? Can I hold up?” Every time your instinct says no, alart yourself with a red flag to contradict that no, and over time you will restructure your instincts to crave those things that your logic tells you are positive, enriching pursuits. Don’t discipline yourself. Don’t find yourself a drill sargeant. Don’t lean on any friend to motivate you. Just be hungry and just say yes. And listen to the Rocky soundtrack at every moment that a cd player is available.
Sorry for the cheesy self-indulgent longwinded peptalk. I so rarely have an excuse to make that speech.
This is great.
I’m glad I met you when I was in Portland.
I don’t even know how to begin to talk about this post.
I love it.
You already know that what that bus driver did had nothing to do with you, and that’s good. A lot of people never make that realization.
I also think the social experiment was a great idea (did you actually calculate the percentage, or are you just guessing? I mean, either way it’s pretty damn impressive, but if you can do math AND be sexy in heels, you’re my role model).
The naked video thing is a very interesting idea. It sounds like something I should do, but I don’t know. It’s odd. I’m overweight, but not obese (I don’t think). Sometimes, I’ll look in the mirror and I won’t even think I’m chubby. I’ll be like, “Damn, I look good!” Other times, I feel like the cowiest cow who ever cowed.
I guess that’s just a mark of our gender (at least, I HOPE it isn’t just me).
And you are beautiful, and sexy. I’ve seen a picture of your boobs. Hot!
Also, on a completely unrelated topic, take a look at this: http://community.livejournal.com/puca_project/profile
Just scroll through some of the entries. It seems like something that would be fun to do in a city with a couple friends. I thought of you.
Have a good night, Go’geous!
Hey JB, I want to talk to you about this more when you have time. I also really apprecited the email you sent
Thank you.
XOXO
Thanks Logan
I’m glad we met too. I hope you’re coming back!
Way to go Athena! Woohoo!
I agree with JB. There’s lots of literature out there about different workouts and equipment and trainers and energy bars, but few people adequately address the area where most people fail: showing up. The first week of January, the gym is always packed. Three weeks later, it’s back to normal. I’m excited about your new quest. Let me know if I can help.
Nelli, you are beaauuuutttiiful!
I hope you know that. Plus, you just got back from Hawaii with a snazzy new tan!
I really recommend the naked video, or some artsy nudes – you will thank yourself later…. just trust me on this one
Love you, Cutie.
Thank you Harley,
You inspire me in so many ways. You’re comment a few weeks ago about the bus driver reminded me that I really should talk about the whole thing out loud.
Thank you.
You’re so awesome! I wil totally let you know
PS: How much longer before I get to be an Auntie?
Athena, oh my gosh that first part was so scary. Hopefully that guy quit and moved away, what a jerk. I am glad you are okay and didn’t get more hurt. You really did video tape yourself in the nude? I’d be so afraid to do something like that, to really see all my flaws. I won’t even look at myself in the mirror naked. Too depressing. You are beautiful though so… I think your new quest is a great idea I wish you all the luck in the world. I can see you as a belly dancer.
Thank you Jessie
I really did do a nude video. I’m actually okay with it. I think you’d be surprised it you did one too. Like I said to Nelli, I realy recommend a nude shoot or an artisticly nude photo session. You will look back and go, “I was such a Goddess! Why didn’t I see it at the time?” Then you will have a better respect and love for your body in the present.
I will send you an email shortly about housing stuff too. I’m so sorry that I’ve been so swamped. I’ll get right on it so you can get here and we can play.
See you soon!
Athena
Lady,
You are an amazon…love it and own it. The strength radiates, must be something in the water you Alaskans drink. Or the obstacles that get you to the faucet.
(If you are ever interested in yoga, running or cooking, you can always join me!)
muah!
Nathania!!!
So cool to see you here
Welcome to the BlissQuest!
Thank you! Thank you for such a great compliment.
I might just totally take you up on that
Muah, right back at ya!
Sweet, I was reminded of the busdriver with a couple of the more recent posts regarding tom-boyness and the whole how you perceive yourself business. I’m glad that came full circle, and it’s quite interesting to see the pattern of self-exploration on the Blissquest is so fully conscious, methodical yet intuitive! A beautiful work of art, is your brain Athena : )