Taboos- V
Sex- II

Sex in Iran, concealed and hidden

Whatever related to sex is hidden in a way. In my country, you rarely can see the opposite sexes hug or kiss each other in public. When I can not put the blame on Islamists in this regard, I can say that the conservatism in this regard has deepened after the revolution; they even rarely shake hands in public.
When these issues never are discussed in public, that's not strange that in sexual crimes cases, you rarely hear the stories from the media in details, let it be alone any education regarding it. I am sure many who have been abused in a way, never tell anybody about it, because they know that the society blames them rather than condemning the abuser:" …there has been something wrong with the girl surely….". And well, "...who is willing to marry an abused girl?"

When I was 9, I was abused by my teacher in an afternoon class I took part (my father loved to bring up a genius by putting me in different classes after the school). Well, the abuse lasted for about three months as far as I can remember the incident. My reaction was like many other kids in their early ages; I didn't tell anybody about it, but even now after years, the shame and the anger kills me. As the issue never was mentioned by anybody else and there was no education regarding it, so unconsciously I buried the bitter memory deep into the endless layers of forgetfulness. For years, I even didn't remember it. I denied it and never brought it out even with myself. This sad event came out of my mouth, 21 years after that at a psychiatrist. I don't know how I recalled it, but I remember that after sessions of discussions with the psychiatrist, I let the imprisoned outrage burst out.

In the streets, as a female we repeatedly face different kinds of abuses, whether it is verbal or touching. When I am not young any more, I feel terrible crossing the street when I know men's gazes around are fixed on my body. It's a daily experience. Unintentionally I shrink my body in such circumstances and I feel that I am shrinking my personality, I am shrinking my identity, defeated by the insult. When standing at a corner for a taxi, I can hear the drivers honk in a meaningful way or flash to invite me to their cars. The strange thing is that among the inviters, every imaginable age can be found. When speaking to a man, it is not rare that despite looking at my face, his eyes slide from my face to lower parts of my body. Well, I feel I can kill him when this happens. I wonder is it different from rape or less insulting when somebody –despite your willingness or your negative answer- persists on what he desires, so proudly and so outrageously? And I can see women, just pass by the insults and let it go because they are afraid of the reaction of the people around. They feel they never are supported if they object, so they prefer to keep suffocated and push the anger and the insult back and forget it as soon as possible. I myself usually object. I can't stand it. I can not swallow it easily. Whether it is because of my childhood experience, or my personality, I feel terrible if I keep quite. Sometimes, when such an absurd thing happens to me, the story ends with some boxes into the ears of the abuser. I don't care if the people may judge me but even me, always wonder is it the proper way to act when I know that these very people –the abusers on the streets- are the byproducts (and even victims) of a sick society which can not handle this simple natural need? When speaking to my female friends, I hear horrible stories about the abuses they have experienced.
Yes, I believe this country is sick when it comes to consider sex and sexual issues. The beautiful natural and human need is not relieved through the natural channels, thus it explodes unnaturally and changes the shape, the form and the content to something so ugly and extremely inhuman, stinky and dirty.