A few weeks ago, an article I wrote went viral. It was
written in a form of open letter to my ex-husband’s mistress, detailing what I
lost and what I felt thanks to their, ah, ‘innocent dalliance’. It wasn’t about
her or him, though, it’s about speaking up of what actually happened during an
affair, in hope that somebody who is toying with the idea of conducting an
affair could understand the possible consequences of their action.
My geographical location (in Los Angeles, writing for
Indonesian readers) and the virality of the article – to the point when there
were several days where my face and article was all over the Indonesian online
news – assured my safety. Had it not gone viral and had I lived in Indonesia, I
would have some serious explaining to do with the clan/my main family. As a
matter of fact, had I lived in Indonesia, there is no way I would have penned that
article. It would be considered a horrendous act; one should never tell what’s
behind the closed door.
A few days ago, another Indonesian woman wrote about the
sexual attack she experienced. She wore Hijab, the all-covered Muslim wardrobe
for women, and she still got assaulted. She was trying to raise awareness that
clothing is not the reason why women get sexually assaulted, as she was pretty much
covered from head to toe. She is currently located in UK. I can’t imagine how
extra difficult it would have been for her to write and publish it had it happened in
Indonesia. Even written so far away from the prying eyes and judgmental accuses
of our country, she still received the advice: ‘no need to go into detail’.
April 2, 2016, a 13 or 14 year old girl by the name of Yuyun
walked home from school, gang-raped by 14 drunken men and teenagers (half of
them are aged 18 year old or younger) to the point where her vagina and her rectum
melded together, killed, and dumped in a rubber plantation nearby. Her body was
found 2 days later. The outcry didn’t start until early May, triggered by
female activists who picked up the story. Some of the perpetrators face 10 years
in jail. We are quickly approaching a year later of when she got raped and killed,
yet no updated news and nothing has changed.
March is Women’s History Month here in US. According to
Wikipedia, “Women's History Month is an annual declared month that highlights
the contributions of women to events in history and contemporary society.” Face
it, we women are badasses. But do you know that your support towards women here
in US can go a long way? Do you know that your little kindness here in US can
be the butterfly wing that causes the storm in the land beyond the sea? Do you
know that you can be bigger and more important than what you think you are?
Living as a (South) Easterners in a Western world is scary.
I may look bold and audacious, but I will still be the obedient woman who
looked away in shyness when you compliment me. I will still be the nurturing
woman who tosses a blanket over your body to make sure you don't catch cold. I
will still be concerned if I know you haven’t eaten or are in distress, even after
you do vile things to me. We are taught, nay, programmed to nurture, to be
obedient, to ensure well-being of our nuclear family: our kids and the partner
we are with.
But that doesn’t mean we can’t be free or that we can’t have
our own thoughts and preferences. Being nurturing and caring doesn’t mean that
people have a pass to walk all over us and doesn’t mean we can’t tell people: “go
F yourself”. This is something that I have secretly believed when I was in
Indonesia, but dismissed it as me being brainwashed by Western ideas, that I was
just lewd and raunchy and cheap and naughty. Even though I was married to
an American, it wasn’t until our divorce and my singleness in Los Angeles that
I finally ‘get it’ that as a woman, nay, a person, I am allowed to be who I
am.
It’s the newfound freedom of being able to do anything,
everything I want without having to ask permission or worrying what other
people would think. It’s the understanding that I am worth it, regardless of
what people might say or think of me. It’s walking back home after a long
commute from work and stop to admire my reflection in the city’s window. It’s
knowing how independent one could be, while still being true to herself. And
you all did this for me.
Sure, I took the first step. I was the one who decided to
step out of my shell to face this big, scary world, but I was never alone.
I read numerous encouraging articles and posts online. I saw so many women that
I adore and admire, be it for their style or their seemingly indifferent ways.
Those women won’t let themselves get hurt, won’t let the world beat them down.
I too thought I could be one of those women. I've learned that it is not ok for
somebody to hurt me. It is not ok for somebody to talk down on me. I can
say no to physical contact; that just because I agree to go on a date I don’t
automatically have to sleep with them. I learn that I have the right and
control of my own body and mind.
Fast forward to my viral article. I passed that knowledge to
my fellow Indonesian women back home. It is ok to leave a husband who is not
kind to you. It is ok to choose to use birth control until you are ready. It is
ok to live by yourself without having to rely on anyone. Your choices do not
define you. Your past does not define you. It is not your fault when sh*t
happens, despite being told sh*t happens because you are not ideal enough. Yeah, you are allowed to have fun and loving yourself and at the same time love
and take care of partner.
Nothing changes though, nothing quite visible at least. This
is a continuous process that will take a long time, if it ever going to stop.
But having somebody in the community who will stand up for herself, who knows
how to respect themselves, helps. It can be your friend, your aunt, your sister,
your long lost cousin, it doesn’t matter as long as you can see them appreciate
themselves and be confident with themselves. Ideas are dangerous because they
set us free. If so, combinations of ideas and role models are lethal.
This is what happens when we women help each other;
especially us who live in a place where we can grow ourselves, protected by
laws and surrounded by supporters. Our kindness, your kindness, towards other
women – more importantly those who are new in the country or go back home to
their own country often – ensures that it can and will be spread globally. All
we need to do is not be a judgmental prick and start to love all women, nay,
all people equally. All we need to do is to be a person who is comfortable in their own skin, which will prompt others to seek that comfort.
And maybe it could spread wide enough so no more 14-year-olds get raped so horrendously, and more people will speak up against it. Maybe it could
spread wide enough that people like me and the Muslim girl can write our own
feelings and thoughts without having to be thousands of miles away from home. Maybe
it could spread wide enough that even in the remote area where electricity is
scarce, women can still stand tall and claim: “This is our body and our mind”. We
are rewriting history here, and you can (and should be) writing it with us. Now
tell me, will you write with us, and what will you write?
PS: Men, this is also for you. I have met and read and
noticed so many amazing men here in US, young and old, who protect and helped
and understand women, who allowed and encouraged women to reach their full
potential. These men made me understand my value as a woman, and I believe I am
not the only one who can see the worth and benefit of a good man in a person’s
life. Thank you, and come join us to rewrite history.
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