Now older and jaded, I look back at my experiences and think, “Did I really do that?”
In the last year (due to the common topic in my FB and Twitter feed), I have read the sadness that comes with rape cases. Plus all the controversy generated by male politicians.
My sister always believes that the question What’s the craziest thing you have ever done says a lot about a person, because it’s a sign of their adventure, their risktaking sensibility, evidence of what is outside their comfort zone, their storytelling ability, etc. etc.
I have always told two stories. The time that I met someone from an accidental phone call in Berkeley, which ended up more awkward than dangerous. And the time that I got sidetracked into almost a dangerous alley with a middle-aged stranger while I was licking an ice cream cone.
As I tell those stories, I describe it with vivid detail. The way I felt. The adrenaline of discovering something new. And yet, I would never recommend it to anyone else. Because now, I almost think…I probably was close to something dangerous. But I always thought that I was rather powerful in my youth—that the news never happens to me (and it still hasn’t). But what if the guy changed his mind and pursued something malicious instead of me walking away thinking only well, that was awkward.
Is it because I refuse to be intoxicated? Is it because I don’t wear makeup? Is it because I never dress provocatively preferring comfortable clothes? Is it because I can have a shrill voice and can at will, assert an aggressive personality (and bite) when something doesn’t go my way? Probably not, because based on all the stories out there, it doesn’t matter. It matters that violations of personal boundaries are not committed. At the very least, I hope that all situations are handled delicately and properly. Without stupidity. And most importantly, that such cases just do not happen.