Author’s Note:

These comics are for anyone who lives in, loves, or has a connection to the Golden State. Here’s what 6 feet looks like for physical distancing in California. (These comics are available in poster format. Download for free or order copies here).

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Read PART ONE

Read PART TWO

 

Nothing prepares you for having your butthole touched by a child.

The day I got my butthole touched, I’d been racing around Jaipur, happy as a clam in my zebra-stripe yoga pants.

*(When we walked by, this monkey was staring at us with an erect penis. Unimportant to the story, but I needed you to know).

Since I get nervous after dark in new places, we planned to return to our hostel before sunset.

But when the time came….

The problem with watching sunset is that once that sun sets, the sun has set.

That’s my “I’m being calm” face.

Back on the streets of Jaipur, we decided to Uber. Uber would be faster than taking the bus.  

Or not.

Like an empanada, I was starting to sweat. Past assaults crossed my mind—would I get punched? My breast grabbed?

My anxiety is deaf to logic.

Waiting for Uber, two kids flanked us. With my pre-worries, I felt ready for anything.

Cloudy with a chance of assault?

One hundred percent chance of butthole-touching.

More than that, this kid had swiped right on the entire length of my crotch, ending at my butthole.

Say it tain’t so.

Uber arrived. Five stars?

During all three assaults, my husband was right there with me. What happened to safety in numbers?

With butt-touching children amidst, I decided to obscure the target zone.

Luckily sweatpants are very on-trend.

Like I did after the face-punch and the boob-grab incidents, I shared my story.

Punny.

Eight-year-olds are sexually repressed in India?

Ok.

To be fair, I had thought the same.

For future safety, I asked my husband a favor:

That’d be great. 

Summary: What to do…

When you get punched in the face by a stranger, go to dinner. Eat even if you’re crying. Afterward, go to a show (it doesn’t have to be about post-partum depression).

When you get a boob grabbed by a burn-victim tween, keep riding your bike. Take selfies.

When you get a finger up your butt by a child, take an Uber home and eat curry for dinner. Order something special—treat yo’ self!

Spend time with people who make you feel safe, secure, and loved. Laugh, joke, and cry at the situation.

Be kind to yourself. I always believed that if threatened, I would fight. After reading more about the psychology of fear, I now understand that humans often freeze or flee when threatened. We rarely fight. My reactions, although foreign to me, were normal.

Your trauma is your trauma. Assault can happen in different forms and intensities. Finding terminology to describe your experiences can feel awkward. I still struggle to categorize mine. Sometimes, I feel like I am overstating if I use the terms assault or sexual assault—seems unfair to people who have experienced more serious trauma. Ultimately, there’s no sense in comparison.

Bottom line: life is weird. Talking with someone you trust about the weird stuff helps. Talking helps even if it’s embarrassing, even if it’s hard to categorize, even if it’s having your butthole touched by a child on the street.