Me too

If it makes you uncomfortable, it counts.

If you cringe when you think about the story, if you can still feel [his] [her] hands on you[r butt, your waist, your chest], if it makes you afraid to be touched,

it’s your truth.

If you don’t want to go running at night anymore because you’re afraid to be chased [again],

you’re valid.

If I don’t like being touched in the dark because it reminds me of the four college-aged boys in the side streets of a ski town,

don’t you fucking touch me.

Sorry, was I not supposed to take offense?

When was it your choice, whose hands left bruises?