Age is Just a Number

We live in a society that makes a big issue of age, and make a lot of judgements and assumptions about people based on how old they are, and it's something I don't understand.

If you want to be taken seriously, you need to be an adult; don't expect society to really pay attention to what you say if you're a teenager or younger, or if you're elderly. Society will collectively smile and nod while you're talking, but roll their eyes once your back is turned. It's atrocious that teenagers are patronised and the elderly are thought past it, as if age is some sort of indicator for intellect or ability to understand, and you're only able to do so once you're no longer a teenager, but before you're - what, 50? 60? 70? What is "old", anyway?

I have two examples of you to show that these ideas, these stereotypes that we seem to take as fact, are complete rubbish. Malala Yousafzai, now 18, was shot at 14, and since recovering, has been campaigning for female education. Yousafzai started to really use her voice, which led to being nominated for the International Children's Peace Prize, before she was shot. The very reason why she was shot. Would you patronise her? On Thursday 21st April 2016, Queen Elizabeth II turned 90. Whatever you think of the Queen and the monarchy in general, you cannot deny how tirelessly this woman works, how informed she is, how her opinion is sought after. I don't think anyone could listen to the Queen speak and think she is past it. Yes, these women are two very public figures, they're not your everyday teenager or elderly person. But that doesn't mean that people in similar age brackets aren't just as smart, aren't just as worthy of being heard. Just because they're not on the TV or in the news doesn't mean they should be dismissed. Teenagers will have fresh ideas and a unique viewpoint for living in this world right now as young people, and older people have experience on their side. We should be listening to what they have to say; their opinions and views are just as important as our own.

I also want to touch on society's obsession with youth when it comes to women and beauty. It's such an incredibly sexist idea that as women age, they lose their beauty. This is something we see a lot with celebrities, with more women having plastic surgery to appear younger, yet it's perfectly ok for men to age, because they become silver foxes. It's a completely ridiculous idea because it simply isn't true. Ageing doesn't make women unattractive. Look at Helen Mirren, Maggie Smith, Celia Imrie and Julie Walters, for example. These women are beautiful. Not in spite of their age, but because they just are.

Because of the stereotypes and ideas about age, we also make assumptions about people and decisions based on how old we think they are - based on their appearance. I am 29, but most people still think I'm a teenager. I am constantly patronised because I look so young, and sometimes have my opinions dismissed if I disagree - because I'm just a teenager, and obviously, teenagers don't know anything. You have no idea how frustrating it can be. I don't mind so much people thinking I'm younger - except for when people my own age see someone much younger when they look at me, and so dismiss me - it's how I'm treated because of how old people assume I am that really winds me up. I feel like I constantly need to tell people how old I am, but I shouldn't have to; yes, I am 29, but even if I was a teenager, my views deserve to be heard. Don't shut people up because they are - or look - young.

On the other side of the coin, there are those who look older than they actually are. This is an idea EastEnders is currently exploring with Jay Mitchell, in his early 20s, who discovers that his girlfriend Linzi is only 14. This is a very delicate situation, and I'm really interested to see how it plays out on the soap. But it shows how you really can't make assumptions of age based on how someone looks, and how it could be dangerous territory. This is a grey area and a scary situation, and not something I have the answer to.* My point is that you shouldn't just assume.

Situations like this just further prove that a teenager's age doesn't necessarily mean anything when it comes to maturity, and the same can be said about any age. Except when it comes to the law, age simply doesn't matter; it's no indication of personality, intellect or level of maturity. Nor is it really any indicator of intent. There is so much judgement on the intentions of people where there is a bit of an age gap in a relationship. If a woman is going out with a man who is considered old, she's a gold digger taking advantage of the old fool - no matter how much money he has. If a man is going out with a woman who is quite a bit younger, he's a perv. Or possibly going through a midlife crisis, depending how close he is to being "old". If an older woman is going out with a much younger man, she's a cougar - which has an air of sexiness to it - but she's also a fool, because obviously her boyfriend is just taking her for a ride, also wanting to get money out of her. No-one considers that there might be real, genuine attraction on both sides, let alone that they might genuinely be in love.

Age is simply an indicator of how long a person has been living. It doesn't tell you anything about who they are, what they think, what they can add to a conversation, what their presence in your life could mean. So why is it so important? Age really is just a number, and we don't all show our age on our faces. We need to start remembering that.

*As I write, it is the morning of Tuesday 26th April 2016. I don't know how Jay's story has progressed over the week, and so this is not a comment on episodes shown after Monday 25th April 2016.



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On Sexual Assault & My Triggers

Trigger Warning: Sexual assault, rape and the triggers of, are discussed in this post.

As I've mentioned before, I was sexually assaulted on my way home from school when I was 11. It's something that has affected my life in numerous ways; for years, I was constantly scared. My attacker was maybe 16 or 17, and so not only were men possible threats, but the boys at school, and so I would mix with very few of them. The assault made me scared to go out on my own, so I wouldn't unless I absolutely had to (for school, etc), which led to not only a lack of a social life as a teenager, but also missing out on numerous experiences that I either didn't have until later on in life (I didn't have my first kiss until I was 20) or have yet to have at all (I've yet to have a boyfriend - these are just two examples, not all are boy-related), and also means I now find it difficult to make friends.

These are the long term affects of an experience that, in all, lasted maybe 10-15 minutes on my journey home. I can look back on my life since it happened, and wonder how different it might have been if it hadn't happened, how much I've either lost or never got the chance to have because of the fear. It makes me angry, so angry that my attacker was in my life - in person - for such a small amount of time, but has affected everything that followed. There is a part of me who thinks it would be good to be able to confront him, to rage at him about how much he took from me. Yet I know I could never do it. I know, because of one of my triggers; on occasion, I will walk down the street, and there will be a guy in front of me walking in the same direction, and for a moment, I'll think it's him. Even now, 18 years on. The debilitating terror I feel in those moments as I freeze in my tracks, and the relief so immense I could cry when the guy in front turns slightly and I realise it's not him, make me absolutely certain I cannot face him, even if I was able to. I simply couldn't cope.

Which is why I filled with an incredible amount of awe when I read on Wednesday of how Carmen Aguirre confronted her rapist in prison. This is an incredible edited extract from her recently published book Mexican Hooker #1: And My Other Roles Since The Revolution, and it covers not just her experience of meeting her rapist, but also the details leading up to her rape. Reading it, I found it astounding how Aguirre found the strength to sit across from this man who violated her. Aguirre is an enormously brave woman. I got goosebumps - the bad kind - reading her story, and imagining doing the same, meeting my own attacker, and I was triggered, though on a smaller scale, again. The idea made my blood run cold. The dread of just thinking about being anywhere near my attacker, I can't even begin to explain.

I'm not generally easily triggered into remembering my assault. When it comes to movies and TV, I get very emotionally involved if a character is sexual assaulted or raped. I know it's fiction and not real, but this happens, and so I watch and keep myself watching, so the character isn't so alone. I know that might sound strange, but I'm not there while people are actually assaulted or raped, so there's a sense of solidarity, a sense of shared experience, to watch a sexual assault or rape storyline played out over several weeks or the course of a two hour movie. I have been hugely invested in Linda Carter's storyline in EastEnders for well over a year for this very reason. But I'm not triggered, mostly, by what happens in movies or on the TV.

Until recently. At the moment in Emmerdale, Aaron Livesy is going through the court case to get his father, Gordon, convicted for raping him as a child. Most of the storyline has not been triggering, but what I found was, surprisingly, was the scene where he was giving the details to the police of what happened in a room that looked much like a front room with sofas and a table, with a camera on the wall, filming the whole thing. I was brought right back to when I reported my assault and had to do something similar in a front room setting, being filmed as I gave the details of my assault. Despite the fact that watching the confrontations Aaron had had with Gordon and how he finally told people the truth of what happened didn't have any affect on me other than being emotionally involved in his story, that scene in that faux front room was deeply upsetting. I sat watching with tears falling down my face, knowing exactly what that moment was like, knowing how Aaron was feeling. It was shocking, having such a vivid flashback. I'd never been triggered by TV before, but this small scene brought back that moment for me, when I, a 11-year-old child, had to go over the most horrific experience of my life.

When Lady Gaga's performance at the Oscars of Til It Happens to You, a song about experiencing sexual assault and rape, was all over Twitter, I looked it up on YouTube. I was profoundly moved by the song - that being the first time I had heard it - and the survivors who stood around her at the end with self-blaming and victim-blaming words written on their arms. I was talking about it with the other Safe Space team members on Twitter, and Jess mentioned how powerful the actual music video was, and so I went to watch it. It has got to be one of the most incredible, powerful pieces of acting and performance I have ever seen.

This video can be triggering. Please look after yourself and do not watch if it's going to hurt you.

It was also massively triggering. It didn't trigger the assault itself, but the emotion of that day and the days that followed. I was sobbing while watching, reliving the fear, the anger, the sadness. All these emotions rushing through me all at once - for me, for those who have also been attacked. Again, I didn't think I would be triggered when I watched it. As I've said, things acted out aren't normally triggering for me, so yes, I chose to watch, but I didn't expect to be triggered.

And that's the whole point about triggers, of any kind: they're not something you can control, nor will you necessarily know what they will be until they're right in front of you. I know Stephen Fry has apologised for the remarks he made about trigger words and safe spaces, but I feel the need to respond. If you know your triggers, and can create an environment where you can avoid them, doing so is not self-pity.

I've been lucky that my triggers are few and far between, and I don't necessarily have to avoid much, but what I have learnt from being triggered is you can't control what triggers you, and you can't control how you react. It's not self-pity that has me freezing with fear, makes my blood run cold, that has me reliving events or emotions. It's not self-pity that has people wanting to avoid things that debilitate them, but "an example of self-care," as Harriet Williamson said in a recent article for The Independent.

Trying to cultivate a life where triggers are few isn't self-pity. It's survival.



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