The Lion and the Lamb

I was the last of the millennial generation. 2007 was the dawn of social media and also womanhood. It was of the era, and probably many eras before, to seek attention from older boys, even if it initially was just a friend request or a “like.” 

They were supposedly harmless. Just pimple picking, just-average-at-guitar playing, boys. 

But they weren’t really boys. They were men, men in our community theatre group, our church, and sometimes in our families.

I blame the men for being predators. I also blame a specific teen vampire franchise for letting us be victims. We were blood sucked by Hollywood, gobsmacked by shirtless glittery men, and we ravenously devoured every sequel of the author’s billion dollar saga. Twilight taught us to crave a powerful man’s affection. It taught us to submit to him, no matter how dangerous he was. It taught us age doesn’t matter. It taught us to be distant from our friends and family because they’d “never understand” and if they tried to stop it, it was just “forbidden love,” which was sexy.

I’m not going to revisit the trauma older men have caused because that’s better suited for the dear woman I pay to speak to once a week. 

I don’t know what kind of tragic sexist literature teens will have access to in the next decade, but I do know my daughter will have a lot to read before she picks up this book. Most importantly, she will be told that no matter how grown up she may act or look or feel, if she’s under 18 she isn’t mature, he’s just a predator.