Today someone asked if they could walk down the same shop aisle as me, someone else asked if they could pass me a receipt directly, someone asked if I would mind waiting. I was asked so many questions today by so many people, all opportunities to set my own boundaries and to consent to an interaction. Pre-covid my life was full of people overstepping boundaries, that man on the train who stands a little too close or the woman in the club bathroom who just has to feel how soft your top is. So I'm not saying the a deadly disease is a good thing. But it has it perks.
(Embracing my inner cactus)
Setting boundaries is something that has terrified me since I was younger. If you want to fit in and be liked you copy other people, if it's okay for them it's okay for me. For a while I could fool myself into believing that. Almost. There was always that swirl of sickness in my stomach, the hot flush that would fill me and the prick of tears in my eyes. I could hide it well, laugh, move on. Make it another wild story, an adventure because I'm oh so empowered and oh so fun. Make it a game, a competition with myself, like I'm winning, take a small prize as compensation for the piece of me that was just taken. Free drinks at the bar for a long time was the payment for so many drunken, fumbling, unwanted interactions. The drinks made it okay, they made me braver, or at least so blackout drunk that by the next morning that whole uncomfortable experience was a blur. With the occasional bruise or scratch or bite mark to show it ever happened. Friends telling you during a hangover breakfast that you'd kissed how many people. At least it was just a kiss. Or at least that's all they'd seen.
It's hard to see an unwanted hand slide up your skirt in a crowded club. Even harder to see, how much they'd pressed their crotch against you, or how tight their hand in your hair had been.
This isn't to say that every interaction in every club or every person was unwanted. I met incredible people and had amazing nights. But there was always that tainted moment in every good memory.
It also wasn't just limited to nights out and clubs. These kind of interactions start way before. I remember boys trying to see your bra through your school shirt. Being asked for a hug in a group of friends. Always feeling like someone else the power.
Whereas now, the power belongs to tiny virus. The fear that I could be carrying something in my breath or on my skin that could kill you. It's not the same as actually being respected enough as a human being to not have my consent or boundaries violated but it's like a holiday from all that unwanted contact. A time to build myself up get ready to spend the rest of my post Covid life making sure that I get the space I want. The space I deserve. I'm not expecting it to be easy, but if this whole crazy year has taught me anything, I can get through it.