One of the first times I experienced something I knew in my bones was wrong, I was a child, like 10. But, by instinct, I knew the person doing it was hoping I would react, I would look, so I did not react.
It was summer. One of my siblings took my bike that morning without asking so I trekked into the neighborhood to find it and get it back. It was just an old, ugly orange thing with bend handlebars, but it was mine. When I managed to locate it, I found it had a flat tire. My sibling was not apologetic and refused to take it back to the house themselves. I was incensed. And now I was going to have to walk it home. As I did so, I caught a glimpse of a grown man, guessing he was in his late 20s early 30s, tall, white, natural brunette, standing in his front doorway in a house just across the street (parallel to me). He was behind a full-length, unscreened storm-door. He was completely naked. It was the middle of a bright day and he was pressed upon a completely clear door. So I was not mistaken in what I was seeing. He was not taking a casual peek outside. He was proud and still and aware of what he was doing. But I knew enough not to turn my head. Instead, I was catching this peripherally. I marched stoically, dragging my useless bike alongside, eyes straight ahead. 30 years later, I can still remember what he looked like and I was disgusted, even then, at the type of monsters who live in the world. It was nothing new, just a sick reminder.
I didn’t tell anyone. I didn’t consider calling anyone. Had I, I’m sure he would have been arrested for exposure. What sick f* exposes himself to a child like that?