What was it to be raised in a patriarchal society? Growing up felt stifling from a young age; I, as a girl, was often restricted from pursuing my interests. For instance, I wanted to learn karate, but my mother believed “it's a boy's thing to do,” not a girl's. When I wanted to play soccer (called football in my country) boys would never let me play with them. They’d say: “you're a girl you don't know how to play.” However, I persisted, refusing to be sidelined.

 Being a girl in a patriarchal society means walking back home from school in the late afternoon when it's 2004. There is still a power shortage, causing darkness in the street. One time, a man suddenly came out of the darkness making the sound "Tsk tsk tsk” to get my attention. His pants down and his genitals out, as if to unmask himself. I looked at him, shocked. I didn’t know what to do. I was scared and continued walking, not faster, but keep walking, not showing him you're afraid. I was 11 years old, and five minutes from home. It was dark, and I started looking around, ensuring he was not following me. Then I started walking faster, and once I got to the yard, I entered the yard and my neighborhood, and I ran closer to the entrance of my building. Then I become hysterical from being scared. It was hard to go into the building because it was dark in the entrance of the building, and now you think, that same man could be here, or it could be someone else waiting; we had a lot of drug addicts in the neighborhood; I remember. The entrance that you had to go through, you had to go one floor up to get to the elevator that's going to take you to the eighth floor but hold on, there's no power to take the elevator. You have to walk eight flights in the darkness.

There were no cell phones to quickly call for help, but I finally got home safe. Pressures of society made me feel the need to show that nothing happened. Naturally I was thinking: "Should I tell my mom or not?” I hesitated to confide in her, with these thoughts running through my mind: “My mom is strict. She's overprotective. She's already not letting me go out much. She's not letting me go far, see friends, or go further than this yard, this neighborhood. how can I tell her I saw a man genital (that time I couldn't even say the word)? I'm not supposed to know that; I'm a girl. What a shame what people would say. My mom's gonna worry. I'm not going to tell her. I'll be OK.”

This became a thing for years because, after that, I became friends with two girls who were also walking back home after school with me. We would see him, then just laugh at him and call him this sound that he made: "Tsk, tsk, tsk man.” 

Growing up in a strict family also closes you up. It shuts you down. When your parents are overprotective, controlling, and don't let you out much or too far you stop sharing everything with them. I began to lie about locations, activities, or anything just to get their approval for my plans.  I learned to keep certain things a secret, like the Tsk Tsk Tsk man in order to avoid becoming a house prisoner. 

When I was a Teenager in Tbilisi, there was this behavior trend among teenage boys: they would lift girls' skirts on the subways or in the streets and bully, make jokes or touch their thighs. I didn't want to wear a dress. I wanted wear clothes that enabled me to play soccer and basketball, and protected me from the boys on the subway. Still, my mom always disagreed with me about my tomboy outfit: "Wear something that girls wear." I didn't want to be like a boy; I just wanted to wear what was comfortable.

A few years after the Tsk Tsk Tsk man, when I was 14 or 15 years old I was on a “marshrutka” (transportation, a van in the city) sitting in a back seat. A man took his genitals out of his pants, which made me feel so ashamed. Not knowing what to do, I just sat and made believe that I didn't see it so other people in the front had no idea what was going on in the back of the van. I wanted to scream, I wanted yell at him, I wanted to beat him. I don't know. I just wanted to do something to him— but I couldn't. I didn't have the strength because I was used to suppressing my emotions from the shame and the guilt of being the girl who was not supposed to do things or see things. After all, inside of me, I knew or thought that if I said something, the man would say that I was a crazy teenager. I looked different with my hair colored different colors. I wore different clothes, like a mix of punk and emo. So, inside me, I knew he would blame me for lying, and I knew the man would be considered right. All I did, stopped the van and got off it and walked to the destination.

Standing in a packed bus also stained the past for me. A man took advantage of how filled it was, and started molesting, leaning, and moving his body against mine… there is much more to tell, but the main message I want to deliver is- that we were not able to share these stories because of  the shame and guilt of societal pressure. It comes not only from the male perspective but also from women, wives, mothers, sisters, lawyers, etc. People love to write their own versions of fiction books about others like you (yes, everywhere, but mostly noticeably and every day in patriarchal societies), not knowing the real story. The best you can think is not to let anyone know and live with it by yourself. You think you suppressed it enough to move on to your day-to-day, but apparently not, because it affects certain things, like trust, relationships, thoughts about that or another person, and simple everyday things like taking public transportation. Some friends and colleagues speaking out about their experiences, but you are holding back, still ashamed that such a thing happened to you. This has been my experience.

Coming to the US, a few rich much older men tried to take advantage of me being an immigrant and thinking that I would fall for money. There was no force, but as a woman, you feel offended; you feel like you are nothing, like you are just an item or a piece of meat at the butchery that someone can just pick and pay for—objectified. When you deny it, they are surprised that you chose the hard path for yourself, but deep inside, you know it is yours, because you have a self-respect.

As I’ve gotten older, harassment has become more obvious to me. My experience as a woman is that it starts following you more, and hopefully you know how to defend yourself. However, there is this quiet harassment that is happening at work where you feel it, but it is not fully obvious. Or when you go to a wedding as a babysitter, just a few hours gig, and the groom starts touching you, molesting you, and trying to have an opportunity for closure with you. As someone who is not confident, you don't know how to behave. Should you make a scene and destroy the wedding or just stay and deal with that somehow.

Men in patriarchal society want to marry a virgin female but also cheat on them and have kids from mistresses. Men want to have, as they say in Kartvelian პატიოსანი გოგო— a decent girl or decent woman (which is changing nowadays but is still present in most of the areas in Sakartvelo). How simple is it to be a decent girl or a woman? It is not only about sexual life; it is a life in general, to be a daughter who is not going to put a stain on her parents სახელი არ გაიტეხოს. Or to be a good daughter-in-law who cooks for in-laws, cleans, and does everything for them and their entire family, relatives, and beyond. A woman who gets beaten by her husband and others blame her that it was her fault, so it was okay; or her mother-in-law says she has to endure and not destroy her family; or she doesn't have an income, so-called independence to leave the abusive partner, because her parents won't take her back since she is not virgin anymore. Women get mentally abused, not just by men but also by women. One woman can be another woman’s harshest critic.

 After I separated with my ex-husband, at a birthday party, I met with an uncle from my father’s side whom I hadn’t seen for a long time. He asked, “what was the reason of your separation?” There was no time for me to answer before he said: “I think it is woman’s fault when the family falls apart.” I didn’t say anything out of respect of his daughter, but would mention it here, he and all other men need to take the responsibility and admit their mistakes and failure. Women should not take accountability for the actions of men who are alcoholics, drug addicts, or physically and mentally abusive. Men in patriarchal society disrespect their female family members, abusive and cheat on their wives, and the list goes on and on… And yes, it is our choice and right to come out, speak out, leave toxicity, and seek safety!

Unfortunately, these types of unpleasantness mostly happen to women from people they know and trust, saying nothing about traumas that already had been caused. It also adds trust issues and troubles to starting a new relationship or having a healthy relationship, or many develop other mental problems.

What I like about women is how tough they are. They endure all these for years until they free themselves and even become stronger.