Today a little boy about 8 years old ran to me and grabbed my butt. I felt so agressed that some agressivity started to flow into my veins. I truly wanted to slap his him on the face and give him ‘a lesson’ , but for some reason, I didn’t.
Back home, I took a shower as if I had been sexually abused or humiliated, turned into an object. It was chocking to me, seeing a child who looked at women in such a perverse way at that young age. Turning women into an object at 8 years old? That wasn’t a problem of that particular boy, this was a mirror of our sick society.
After all the anger felt for nothing, I started calming down and realized he probably wasn’t even conscious of what he did and just tried to interact with a woman who seemed unaccesible ( due to the age difference) and appealing to him.. a sort of innocent game to captivate my attention… or a way to learn his own limits.
I felt grateful for not having slapped him, and for being able to see my inner-monster, the agressive/reactive ‘me’. I don’t hate him though, neither the boy nor the monster.