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It was as though I was being punished, and I had no idea who was trying to take revenge on me or why. He called me sweetie and sent me selfies and pictures of his dick.* * * s weeks turned into months, my boyfriend and I settled into our new place, but the harassment didn’t stop. I searched Craigslist and Google for anything related to my phone number, but my contact information didn’t appear anywhere. I want to lick your pussy and ass before I smash it,” one man texted. ” “Not in the slightest,” I responded, before blocking his number. After dozens of unanswered texts, I told him he had the wrong number, that I didn’t have an ad.It’s the perpetuation of rape culture through technological advance. Laws that I had begun shutting down my online presence.I removed my picture and professional information from Linked In, and made sure my other social media profiles were set to private. Build it up.” Slowly, I began to take social media accounts off of their private settings and got back to work creating more content to help bury the Craigslist ads.n November 22, 2016, the two-year anniversary of the day I met my boyfriend, we celebrated by spending the afternoon apartment hunting – searching for a place that would accommodate the life we were beginning to build together. Three more aggressively sexual messages appeared on the screen. “Just delete it.” I took his advice, quickly deleting the messages and blocking the unknown number. Instead, they continued coming from different numbers from different cities all over the country.With a small list of properties to view, we stood on the front porch of my parents’ house, ready to set out into the late-November day. In the following weeks, I received assault threats, pictures of genitalia, and countless degrading messages, all responding to Craigslist sex ads I never posted.When I tried to politely call it a night, he blocked the door with his body. That night, the man fucked me beneath two rifles hung on his wall in a giant ‘X’ above his bed. Snow outside was piled even higher and the frigid temperatures were well into the negatives, but I walked the two miles home anyway – the smell of blood trailing me the entire way. I didn’t even tell anyone it happened until eight months later, when I tried to love someone new, but cried every time he touched me.

When we spoke on the phone, she was tough, but stern – the kind of woman you’d always want on your side.“He’s never physically threatened me, so there’s nothing I can do.” It was comforting to speak with someone who understood that these Craigslist ads weren’t just words on a screen.That cyber sexism isn’t just verbal abuse, threats of physical assault, and privacy violations; it’s a complete undermining of everything women have worked for.The epidemic of online harassment is out of control.I have no idea who dragged me into this, but as a survivor of sexual assault, the unstoppable barrage of lewd messages has been especially traumatic. It was quickly followed by another: “I want to fuck your ass.” I could feel the blood drain from my face. “I have no idea who this is,” I told him, showing him the messages.Though there are 34 states with laws in place, policies have simply failed to keep up with technological capabilities.

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