I was walking through dark streets one time and a drunk approached to ask a question, like "do you know the time?"
I flinched and they noticed, touched my arm and said something like "it's alright mate, I'm not here to hurt you."
I remember brushing it off at the time, like 'nah, I wouldn't be scared of you' but, afterwards, I realised how frightened my body had been.
It was like when I touch a hurt and mentally tell myself to heal, since I have been assaulted on the street and at the time no one cared.
That flinch made me appreciate the trauma of being assaulted.
Apparently young men are the most common victims of assault and, because they're usually hit by other men, there's often an attitude that it's boys being boys or something.
I remember the police laughed at the idea they would find my assailant and a journalist dismissed my story, saying "it happens all the time."
Well, let me say, it sucks being hit and finding that no one considers it seriously.
