Mammals.

Quoting from Nick Hornby's novel About A Boy, reading through the passage that shared the same sentiments like I had meant that I was not the only one being a morbid mortal - this perspective is shared from a heterosexual main character, a guy: "He wanted to cut off his own penis with a kitchen knife". (p36, 1998)

Certainly, let me help you with that. Especially men who call themselves fathers and force themselves to their children; boys destroying another girl, and so on - treacherous, atrocious, disasterous stories of society that leaves you lifeless, no faith is restored in this type of mammal.

Boys to men, don't be sorry for me. I'm only one of the countless victims of your kind. Look, I don't even work in the entertainment industry - oh wait, I do - but I'm not the star everyone wants to pounce on - or the director to please. I work behind the scenes. So I clean up the mess the next day instead with a smile. Heheh. #DirtyLaundry

As simple as a flick of my sports bra the other night from my bro, is forgivable. In my head, I only roll my eyes and say, "Ah boys being just boys really" but as a matter of fact for my value as a female, it has reduced my own value as one female. It felt condescending. Degrading. But, a that's what a heterosexual boy do during adolescent years, pulling mini sets or bra straps from behind as our white uniform shows its creases and lines of it.

#MeToo. Have you not?
Don't go further on this read if you don't want me to crush your K-pop dreams and promises of faithful marriages.


Consider yourself absolutely lucky, girl. Really.
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"Really, you like singer 'R.K.'? OMG he's just so weird. He's really weird you know, he's a friend's friend and he's just..."

"Sly?" I continued.

"... Not sure of the word but technically he ridiculed my friend and chiding childishly have you done it before? No way, you haven't done it? How could you not? manner. And my friend, as he should know is a more conservative Christian so that was rude."

"Ah I can imagine, he has that funny sleazy face he makes which I can imagine he uses that particular face. Your friend is a guy, girl?"

"A girl."

There goes my other dreams, shattered by public image thinking he was a genuinely funny artist - not a pop star, an artist. "Guys, afterall, will do so. But now we know he really is just another lame normal guy, not that guy that can earn our respect."

That was last week. One man down again on the list of the seemingly respectable public figures.

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I consciously, alarmingly remember about my afterschool lessons of art and drawing. It was a Bobo (magazine) kids center near my house. I don't remember which grade exactly, perhaps 2nd or 3rd grade. The art lessons was taught by Mr. M. (Holy smokes I suddenly remembered his first name as I was writing this, I never thought I'd remembered).

For a slightly young age person like me to understand how men are like predators to the opposite sex must've been a disturbing fact back in the day. Today, is a different story - everyone is just sexually active from youth. Can't hide it.

His hand was on my shoulders. Slowly circling, feeling the straps of my undergarments. Sometimes he strokes my back saying "Great job, keep it up. When you're famous you should remember who taught you for the first time, Mr. M" which I know it isn't those friendly strokes; his fingers searched.

At every class I would smartly position myself to then take a table at the inner side so he wouldn't hover to my table and did the same disgusting thing. I manage to minimise further damage. I cringed. But I didn't say to anybody - who's going to listen to me, a little girl about this? I have no proof at all and I was probably too young to realise a sexual awakening or perhaps, if he was a secret paedophile. Dunno.

I was clearly aware of my position. I was ugly, I was forgettable, I wasn't a goddess oozing of incredible beauty and prowess but what I didn't forget is that I was still a female - same for all men, they're a partner to waste their semens into. Their dreams.

Oh, wait - what's this hand on my left mammary gland?

Cue in about 12 years old when I enrolled to Taekwondo class. I was never a gymnastics kid and I felt like I've found my place in a martial arts class. I was the only girl amongst 5 boys there. I loved being in a martial arts class.

I train Mondays and Thursdays for about 2-3 hours. There were their little brothers and these big brothers who were about my age, where we were all spurting of puberty. But, as I was the only person with long braids or ponytails, I was easily bullied by them - ironic wasn't it, to be bullied at a martial arts ground?

Still loved it though. Boys will be boys, I thought. Hetero ones, are probably something to be thankful of in this time of era that phew, he's straight. We have enough gay BFFs around sorry, because we need someone to procreate after all, ha ha ha

Well, back to the story, my sentiments are like bah, boys. Kids. Let me practice you evil asses.

The bullying continued. It was mild for me; I knew that boys always do that to girls. I was ugly, I was forgettable, I wasn't a goddess oozing of incredible beauty and prowess but what I didn't forget is that I was still a female - same for all men, they're a partner to waste their semens into. Their curiosities.

Which the highest streak was for this slit-eyed boy, the slimmer one (there was a bigger built one, I can't remember whether it was his brother or just his neighboring friend) was probably coerced by his friends to say "hey let's bully her, you should touch her boobs", in which he bravely enough he did.

I recalled correctly that song-saeng carried him out and tipped him over the balcony towards the pool (our dojo was the 2nd floor) but he only tipped him. That's it.

I continued my class as usual. Boys will be boys, I thought.

The only reason I quitted? My scores in history class (IPS) flunked in school, so my mum had to get me out of the Taekwondo class saying that it took a lot of time from me. I earned my first belt there. I still miss that class regardless. So don't worry, it wasn't because of the boys.

Echoing unconsciously, is the reason why I'm yellow, female, Indonesian, third world, unsafe.

I am the only daughter. I've been protected by my parents and they have kept saying how safe I should be. Apparently, which I responded in laughter, is to know the real reason why my mum dressed me up with polo shirts, knee shorts and oxfords - very boyish looking and she bought it in the boys section sometimes. It had nautical themes of bears and embroideried anchors and stuff.

"So if there's something wrong, it's easy to just run away. If it's a skirt it is difficult," she reasoned.

I was kept in a bubble of real reality. When people lurk around to kidnap. To target a girl. A girl, a female is always a degrading figure. A soft spot to target to. An instant mistake. Whatever we did, whatever THEY did, it will STILL BE OUR mistake. Not theirs.

One night stands for example? Females get pregnant, males say g'day and bye. Gotta take it to our own hands as always.

That was how I was brought up.

_

No, you don't judge me. I know a lot of things, girl. Didn't anyone tell you I was the Tinder Queen between 2015-16? I was there for my UIUX research + finding new friends in the capital city.

Do they exist? Yes they're perfectly normal human beings. Men who are swiping in front of their wives, children, outing, meetings, office hours (they replied to me in those hours too, asking for the number, sometimes I give them my e-mail instead so I can trace their profile),

The ones who are looking to get laid and 'sell their business' or simply just looking for ONS FOC, also the ladies side. Sometimes a couple who's looking for threesomes partner. Plenty.

Which ones did I get to meet? I asked them 'I don't chat and I prefer to meet' and some did respond to it. They told me stories of their marriages and why they're around on the app; others looking for love and why their past didn't happen, my meetings are like veritaserum.

I don't need to watch another sappy soap opera; the soap opera is in my head, real stories with honesty. It's completely normal - love dies out, find a channel to revive oneself and keep the marrige intact while satiating the other senses. I think our parents' times were almost the last of its kind in Asia. Now, you have to be open-minded to accept and be aware that open marriages is what keeps marriages alive - it's a concept that I get and understand, multiple layers of affect and impact.

In conclusion, these apps are a wake-up call. It's incredibly easy. One can cheat on so many other apps, including Growlr, Grindr, Crawlr... they all have these cute UIUX too and I can't help but learn how to flirt from my friend, reading from the way he does it.

He does it so much better than me.
_

Today, my girl friends and my guy friends always keep saying to "use my assets" to get future boyfriends or just anyone to enjoy myself; I only reply, "oh thanks for being nice friends guys, ha ha ha ha I'm enrolling myself to a nunnery, obviously I cannot!" and to they reply to even say "well that's an even better excuse, do it now then enter the nunnery later!"

I dress like manrepeller.com instead or with a One-sie. Or ninja gears. I have realised, they're my natural defense mechanism.

Animals. Mating seasons. Can't help themselves. Where did humane consciousness go to self-control? Nada.

This also explains why I wrench my heart in pain when my girlfriends do that to themselves. It's their right but it's like cutting my wrist over and over to see them with their clothes of choice - I know they're smarter, but I guess that's that. From female to female, it personally disheartens me. But it's their choice and well, life goes on.

I think I'm pretty forgiving. I'm aware of my position that I'm only second to male. I was ugly, I was forgettable, I wasn't a goddess oozing of incredible beauty and prowess but what I didn't forget is that I was still a female - same for all men, they're a partner to waste their semens into. Created to be their costae in the first place.

You know, they'll always be boys. We're animals. We're mammals. We have that drive like of animals. So, they'll always behave like animals. End of story. It is expected.

Humans who are smarter than animals will use their brains to control their dicks, scrotums and balls and use their energies and neurons to think of something else - world hunger; conserving nature and ecosystems; preserving endangered languages and systems; anything besides that 99% of the time (cue in E.L GRAY'S Mr Grey version. Dicks do think and speak).

I hope that my friends can understand where I now talk from. How my views were shaped. How I'm comfortable in my own bubble. The world right now is not worthed enough for my stature.

I haven't sworn off men, I am straight af and I know that completely. I fawn over idols - it's healthy because if I don't like anyone my life is rather empty and boring. But I only like you. So, the bottom line is that I am scared.

I can only like you. Further than having a posture I adore and perhaps conversations, the dream ends there because I cannot continue further - you're still that very men I know that can cheat within a swipe in front of my face saying "business chat" over dinner at a hotel or booking that getaway to Phuket every weekend saying "clients are there".

I'm not stupid. I know men. I hangout with men, doing sexual jokes from S to X to the bed and techniques - which are the best jokes really, and I also agree open marriages is the glue of today, it's the most adult and responsible decision any married couple can make and I respect them. At the same timg because of this very thing exist, I have lost trust in our own kind, subconsciously.

I am scared. I think this is why I've never felt like I could to have a relationship with a heterosexual male. I wish and I yearn, but to take that step means I put myself in jeopardy. I don't have the time to deal with my own depression against break-ups and failures because it will take half of my life. I think quarters have been killed when 2 friends I consider them as Best, rejected me in the same month.

I was left in the sahara for 2 months. It was excruciating. I was swimming nowhere. I felt our years of friendships meant nothing. I couldn't trash it the same like them. So now, imagine if it was a possible boyfriend Y.

I cannot do the Trust Game yet and depend on someone. Maybe, if there's someone I can really trust. Once I give that trust away, that's my end game if he's on an App or two.

I think I'll see the Han river, or river Thames for my end. If I'm not strong enough.

I haven't sworn off men - I still love you, please don't be sorry for me. Can you please do me a favor?

Like those feminists how females hurdle together and fight for justice, can you also round up your kind and tell them to please CONTROL, THEIR, ENTIRE, SYSTEM, TOGETHER AS ONE ENTITY AND NOT ONE GENITAL? You guys, teamwork yeah. We did it, now you gotta help your own kind, thanks.

So what's the solution? Who's a potential mate for me? Easy: Anyone who's not thinking of using their dicks 99% of the time but trying to solve societal, environmental, and political issues by day and a gungho street fighter by night (I still love ninjas and fighters because I fight so...). And a beautiful voice... handwriting... manbun hair... hot dudes who reads on subways and public transports or wherever (Cue in that Instagram handle that appreciates these fine specimen)... see? I'm easy. My knees are weak thinking about this, ha ha ha.

The good thing about this exercise is that embracing and unearthing this very fact - something I didn't realised until today - can mean that, I can unlock some bolts now. Perhaps.

This is my #MeToo story. I am ugly, I am forgettable, I'm not a goddess oozing of incredible beauty and prowess but what I didn't forget is that I am still a living female - same for all men, they're a partner to waste their semens into. Their so called significant other half. Now, replaced by males too.

But I'm better, well-equipped, well-versed, well-thought, well-trained, and living well. I hope that your #MeToo experience only made you rebound back for the better to find the meaning of your life. Mine is to show that I can, despite all obstacles.

PS. No, I don't take martial art classes because I want to protect myself. Everyone knows whatever we do in our dojo will get us killed in a street fight. I just love the feeling of becoming a ninja assassin, my ultimate dream. But I'm too fat to jump across roofs, you see.


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Disclaimer: I'm a journalist. We have a code of conduct to only report the truth. This is not a work of fiction. If you think this is a blasphemy or aggrandized or I took your story, share your thoughts below.

- Rice (25) is a creative consultant, lecturer and social entrepreneur. She divides her time in Jakarta and Bandung to keep herself extremely occupied and not think of anything else but for a better address of tomorrow for everyone.