I woke up this morning and went on my Instagram, as normal.
Every now and then I scroll through the extra DMs bit, where anyone can message you, and send you anything they wish. There are often lovely messages from fans and nice people who simply want to reach out and say nice things. And I try to show my appreciation by replying or answering questions they may have, mostly relating to work. I see that as part of my job. And I’m happy to speak to people who support me.
Since I came out of the [I'm A Celeb] jungle almost two years ago, I have noticed a huge increase in sexually explicit messages I’m sent. I’ve screen-shotted a few, laughed at them with friends, shared them on my story with silly captions so we can all have a good old laugh at it.
But it's not always a joke. It seems to be getting worse, as well as noticeably more disgusting and sexually aggressive.
This morning I woke up to 12 messages from the same man. A 53-year-old married man with children. One of his messages was this: ‘Come on baby let me fuck that pussy til you cum all over my married dick I know you fuckin' love it you filthy slut I’d slam you so hard till you cry let daddy impregnate you and ruin that gorgeous cunt.’
I genuinely used the least offensive message I could find because I don’t want to upset anyone reading this. This is the sort of stuff I receive daily. I know I’m not the only one. I know that it's not all men who behave in this way. But whether you are in the public eye or not, I feel like there is some kind of sexual harassment blind spot which is going completely under the radar.
As we know, the world of social media has now made it possible for people so say whatever they like to anybody. Twitter is out of control. Public trolling is out of control. And it’s all out there for us to see. I feel Instagram has now become a place where this is also happening, but quietly.
My Instagram DM section has now become a realm of sexually abusive comments, pictures, videos (yes- videos!) that I have absolutely no control over. I’ve tried blocking people, they create new accounts, and blocking one person doesn’t stop 27 new reprobates from joining the dick pic queue.
I hate to admit it, but the awful thing about it is that it has started to make me question myself and the way I speak, act and behave.
I’ve always been a very open person. I’ve been described as ‘flirty’, ‘naughty’ and ‘cheeky’ even ‘erotically charged’. I talk about sex in my shows, I talk about my own personal sexual experiences. In fun and comedic detail. Because that is my choice. I enjoy sharing anecdotes and I want to make people laugh. But this is always in an environment where I am comfortable to do so: it's my choice.
Somebody commented on a photo of me the other day that I’d uploaded, saying that I show too much cleavage and I’m 'asking for the wrong kind of attention' and then complain when it happens.
It’s the age-old thing of, 'Well if you wear a short skirt, you’re asking to be sexually assaulted'. Women have been dealing with this FOREVER. And now these sexual predators have a whole other ground they can cover. They can come online and silently, and anonymously, sexually harass us without receiving any consequences whatsoever.
Throughout my life, in the real world I have also found myself in uncomfortable situations. In the street, men have: exposed themselves to me, grabbed my arse, and followed me home whilst telling me what they’d like to do to me. I have called the police and it has, pretty much, been dealt with. There’s been concern and at LEAST some reassurance that this person won’t be bothering me again.
Whereas with this, I haven’t even thought about calling the police - and that’s interesting. When it’s happening physically in front of you, there are more grounds for a complaint. So when it comes to words written and sent to my direct messages, words like, 'I am going to fuck you with the telescope I’m using to spy on you', or a video of a man wanking and ejaculating, why does my brain automatically tell me I need to just ignore the knot in my stomach, and forget about it?
If someone said or did that to me in the street, I wouldn’t think twice about following it up. That's a terrifying message to receive and yet here I am just thinking of a funny caption for it to stick it on my story so we can laugh at it in some way. That's my coping mechanism.
This is a sexual harassment blind spot that’s being ignored and tolerated. It's a new form of harassment we now have to just get used to. The boundaries have been obliterated. Although I’m not sure there were any in the first place?
My life is full of wonderful men who look out for me, respect me and champion me. So maybe I’m one of the lucky ones who actually can often just pop an emoji on the photo of a shrivelled old bell end I've received and pop it in my girls WhatsApp group and get on with my life. I can, most of the time. But I know there are women out there who are crippled with anxiety worrying about this, and worried when the next disgusting dick pic will emerge in their inbox.
Enough. Life is hard enough for everyone at the moment. And we don’t need another pic of a floppy dick to prove it guys. If we wanted it, we’d ask for one.
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