Androphobia

"Don't talk to any boys, okay? Just play with the girls."

I had nodded my head at my mother without argument on my first day of school, all dressed up in my ironed grey pinafore and blue cardigan. I could remember that day quite vividly as I was released into the world of other schoolchildren, ready to make friends and take that next step to adulthood; of course, I had only been five years old so I didn't really know what adulthood was.

But I did know that I had to listen to my mother or she'd get angry at me, so I kept my distance from the boys in my class and only talked to them if needed. Even though a few of the girls in my class weren't the friendliest and cared more about the latest gossip than anything more stimulating, I tried my hardest to befriend any girl who would take me into their friendship group. I wasn't supposed to hang out with the boys.

I didn't really know why.

And so I grew up with fake friends around me. They were girls who would talk behind my back or leave me out of games or forget to invite me to group outings, but I kept smiling. It was alright if they wanted to meet up on their own. They weren't obligated to spend time with me if they didn't want to. As long as I didn't hang out with any of the guys, that was all that mattered.

Of course, not all the girls were like that. Some were absolutely lovely to me but when I tried to play with them, they didn't like the games I liked. They didn't have the same interests as me and they'd look at me with sympathetic smiles as I babbled about how I loved doing puzzles and suggested that they'd come over sometime; they never did.

All that time, I avoided the boys as much as humanly possible. It was quite difficult considering that I'd have to sit next to them in classes and participate in group activities with them. Some would even invite me over to race them in their garden or help me start decorating my finger puppets that I had been so excited about, but I had to stay away. Even though they were sweet and funny and crazy and made me want to play all the games they liked, mama wouldn't like it so I listened to her.

If only I hadn't.

Before I knew it, secondary school had arrived and I was sent to a separate one to the others. While all my friends had attended a mixed public school nearby, I was placed in an all girls school far away from them and never had to see them again. In a way, I was thankful that I had a fresh start and didn't have to fret about any boys approaching me, and it didn't take me long to make a friend almost instantly.

My best friend, Ember, was the complete opposite of me. She was comfortable in her body and confident about geeking over Korean music and even though she didn't do the best in her studies, she had me to help. We balanced each other out, with her fiery hotheadedness only being cooled by my soft words in her ear before she snapped at another girl for insulting her hair. She brought out the best in me, the carefree me, and I brought out the best in her.

But not everyone was as nice to me as she was. I silently listened to their cruel words about my appearance or work ethic while wearing a gentle smile. Despite that, I never confronted my classmates about it. I assumed that maybe they had their own insecurities and didn't know how to release that pent up frustration, or maybe they were going through troubles of their own. I had no right to judge them when I had no clue of what was going on in their lives. And so I stayed quiet and just smiled. I hoped the best for them.

Unarguably, being brought up in an all-girls environment meant very little exposure to boys. Even though I had my papa and uncles, the people around me were freely mingling with those of the opposite sex while I was kept sheltered from the world of men. I had truly thought it was a good thing and that one day, I'd finally meet a man who would take me into his arms and never let me go.

But I didn't expect to develop a fear of them.

It happened so slowly, over such a long period of time, that I had alienated myself from them. Even passing a man in the streets became a struggle for me as thoughts conjured up in my mind at what they could do to me. I'd stiffen, freeze, stare.

When I was a child, I had wondered why my parents told me to stay away from them. The only possible reason for doing so became apparent as Ember told me how a boy forced himself onto her at a late-night party.

I was scared because they could hurt me.